Cigarette butts littering the bedroom and yard, I can see in your eyes the alcohol and drugs. No, I don't mean the legal stuff... I mean the stuff that will get you locked up for possession as soon as you turn eighteen. I mean the dangerous stuff.

Those highs you love so much? The escape from reality? I hope you love them as much or more than your life, because they shorten, and sometimes take, it.

Trust me, my older sister, Short Shit, I understand wanting to escape, but you have to face it someday. I wish you would have figured it out before now... I wish you didn't have to hit rock bottom to do so, but the farther you stray, the more likely that is seeming.

It hurts to watch, you know. You've been my best friend thirteen years running... I wish I could get through to you and stop it- be helpful- or drop you like everyone thinks I should- be heartless. I can't though... no one will understand why, but I can't.

I'll compromise- I'll stay away. Only when you decide to change will I be there... but you're family, so I can't just cut off everything and forget that you ever existed- you were there for me through everything, always there when needed.

I hope you figure it out soon, sis. The clutter of worry and the sense of a hole in my heart is not a pleasant way to go about the day let alone a year or more.

Love ya, and I'm always here- when you're willing and ready to change.