The Floor

Bub,

I have a place on my bathroom floor, I often called you from that very spot. The place I go when life has me at my absolute lowest. I feel safe in a small place, so I shut the bathroom door, and I break down. I'm sitting in that exact spot right now. Sobbing, barely able to catch my breath. I don't even know what to say. I feel empty, alone, miserable and more sad than I have ever been in my entire life. I feel hollow all the time. I walk around as a shell of the person I use to be, the person you knew. I never thought I'd bury you. Never. I thought I would go first. It didn't matter that you were 6 years older than me, I was always the more unhealthy one. I expected for you to out live me, but I didn't want you to outlive me by much, because I knew that burying me would take everything out of you. Much like it has me. It still doesn't feel real. I don't know how to make that go away. I still expect to get texts and calls from you. I still expect to see you walk through my door. I pace at night and talk to you like you were here. Because if you were still alive I'd be talking to you on the phone. No one else is a night owl like me. So calling my friends at 1 am isn't something I can do, but I did it with you all the time. I knew you'd still be up. 

I can't believe it's been almost 2 months and we still don't know who killed you. How in the world does someone get away with this? How do they get to walk around on this earth when you aren't? You are better than them, kinder than them, all around a better person than them. Everyday is a battle for me. I have an opportunity to give my kids a good life. A life you and I discussed all the time. You should be here to take them skating, help plan their birthdays and attend them, watch them grow and turn into these sweet girls that they are. I'm so upset they took you from them. The girls don't have family that is local. They aren't going to grow up like we did with all the cousins and family around all the time. They won't have that.  You stayed close so they could have that. We just had no idea that the place you thought was safe and the place that you thought was a good home for you, wasn't at all.

Death is so weird. That's putting it lightly. You were here. And then in less than 2 months, you are gone, your home is gone, and everything that made you, you, is gone. I call your phone, I don't know why, but I do. Sometimes I can't call it. Sometimes it's too much. It's too much to not have you picking up at the other end. Kobi, you always told me when I was upset and really low, "It's okay, I'm always here for you, always" But you're gone. I know somewhere in my head you gave me the tools to get through this, somewhere. I just can't find them. I can't see how to get through this mess. I can't see how I'm going to survive this. To everyone else, I probably look fine. I'm not. I'm struggling. Help me. 

- Sis