I remember nights when I was so petrified, you'd sit outside the bathroom door for me as I'd shower. I remember nights you'd climb in my bed to soothe my sobs and stop my tears from wetting my pillow. I remember when you'd hold my hand and teach me to be confident with my shoulders back. I remember the nights of endless secret telling and shushes to keep quiet. I remember it all. Yet those sweet pea memories are slowly drifting away back to sea with the memory of who you used to be. I can't seem to get you to look me in the eyes anymore, I can't get you to hold me when I have an episode. I can't get you to spend time with me, your baby sister, and maybe its a big sister thing; growing tired of being your litter sister's keeper. I dont know. But I know there are no more nights of secret telling, there are no more nights of being held while I cry. There are no more nights of you sitting outside the bathroom door for me. There are none.