I saw a photo of you the other day... You don't look like me anymore. Or is it that I don't look like you...?
You look old. Has the weight of all of your bad decisions and mistakes finally started to weigh you down? When you lie down in bed at night and go to take that deep, relaxing breath, does it get caught in your chest? Do you cry alone in the shower, but walk out with a fresh face so no one knows? I don't. Not anymore.
You look old... how long will you live? I don't know if I would cry if you died, and that's the saddest part of it. But what would even change? I've never been able to fill the void you left behind. Death can't make it any bigger. But if I died, would you cry? Would you read my obituary and feel sad that you didn't know me or know my life?
You don't know me, but in a way you do... I'm all the things you could never be. I was dealt the same cards as you were - you made sure of that. They were stacked against you just the same as me. But you weren't strong enough. I was. You might think giving in was the easier choice, but nothing about what you've done to yourself is easy. Your life is hard. And I see it all over your face. It's in every line and wrinkle. My lines are ones of laughter.
I've said before that you're involved in every decision that I make, but not in the way that you're thinking. You're my compass, but you're not my true north. Anytime I'm at a crossroads I will always choose the path that leads me farther from you. I used to think that was my way of running, hiding, refusing to face my past. But what I've realized is that it is my strength. It is my gut feeling that tells me right from wrong. It is what I use to set my boundaries. It is a picture of all the things I will never be - and I mean that in the best way possible.
Like a mirror, I see myself in you. There are small little parts of me that I know I got from you. The stick to me like tiny little gnats to a glass of wine. At the start of a night, like at the start of my life, the gnats get to you... You're constantly swatting them away, wishing they would leave you in peace. Finally, after time goes on, you know that the tiny bits of wine they collect for themselves isn't even enough for you to notice. You learn to cohabitate, like I have with my memories of you.
I used to think you brought me down, but I'm beginning to see that you are really my leg-up. Because of you, everything I do is better, but I won't thank you for it. Like an eclipse, I shine better when you're gone.
