She's been next door
since my birth
and you may wonder how that
is even possible
when I am four or five years older than her.

I met her at a time
in my life
where my world changed,
and in this change
I tried to live--
to live for anything.

In my futile attempts
to find purpose
to conquer the beasts
of mental illness,
she's been at my window
to see this eternal struggle of mine.

She's wonderful
completely and utterly--
of course this doesn't mean she's perfect
and even more of course she's far from it.

But maybe it's that imperfection
that has allowed
her and I
to have open windows,
open hearts,
and open conversations--
no matter the
Time zones, languages, or illnesses
we always come back
understanding each other
just a little bit more.