I envy you. I know you made it to the altar and that you and Sharon are still going strong. I might not have written again, but I’ve checked up on what you were doing a couple of times a year, usually right after I’ve broken up with someone. I told myself it was to make sure you were happy, but that’s a lie. I missed you, and ate up those scraps like I was starving to death. I would torture myself for hours imagining the two of you going about your lives. Call it a weird reverse therapy, but knowing that you had found the life you always wanted made it easier to pick up the pieces of mine and try again.
Not that it’s ever worked. Now that Mom’s gone, you’re the last person on this planet who knows the real me, but you’re on the other side of the country, and I’m stuck here. Dad hasn’t sai
