I needed to say these things somewhere, and I'm sick of making my girlfriend listen to me cry. Sorry to anyone who might actually read it, I just had to get it out.
I hate this time of year. I have for as long as I can remember. My family has been so screwed up over the years that xmas just became something I had to get through rather than some fun-filled festive period. This year I thought it might be kind of different though. I have a girlfriend that loves me and a cat that tolerates me and a flat and a job and enough space from most of my family that I am relatively happy most of the time. But then my big sister got Leukaemia. The last two months have been the saddest and most stressful I've ever had. Even when my ex ripped my heart out after 4 years and treated me like crap, even when my beloved gran died, none of the other stuff I've been through has been like this. I love my sister. She has been the thron in my side a lot over the years as in several ways we are like chalk and cheese. We have never been "huggy" or told each other we loved each other but now that this has happened and the treatments are not working I am suddenly faced with the reality that she might not be around anymore. And it kills me. I need her. I need her to make fun of my weird music and my clothes and to moan at me about everything else. I need her to hit me every time I crack my knuckles in front of her. I need her to still act like things have come easy to me while her life has hard, despite her knowing full-well we have been through very similar things. I need this because despite it all, she is the one sibling I can rely on. The rest of them are too wrapped up in themselves or dismissive of me and the life I have chosen. My big sis is the one who accepted my sexuality straight away. She is the one that used to put mix tapes on for me when I was little and couldn't sleep. She is the one who will not let me get away with shutting myself off from the the whole family completely. And she makes me laugh. Not always intentionally, but she does. Our differences are what make our relationship bearable. I give as good as I get, although I am still always more afraid of her than she is of me! She has had horrible things happen to her in her 30 years of life, and now that life might be taken away from her when she was starting to get it together. Two months ago we all thought she had a chest infection, and now she is lying in hospital with the knowledge that the chemo didn't work so any chance of a transplant is slipping away by the second. And I got tested. I did my part. My results will be back soon to tell me if I can give her my bone marrow and it might be too bloody late. Her health, her hair and her dignity has been taken from her, and yet I have to try and find some hope so that every time I walk into that room I can smile at her and pretend like I don't cry myself to sleep at night. She is too young for this disease to take her. The doctors should be able to fix her. None of this is right.