I love her like watching peach-colored clouds against a baby-blue sky.

I love her like going back to sleep after waking up at night.

I love her, because she gets me, even if I can’t.

She’s the reason my wrists are clean, my neck is sound and that I don’t have an extra hole peeping through my skull.

She’s taught me to try things I may not like, and to like things that make her sigh.

If Cain had had a sister, the world would be all right.