You

You. You have always been the strong one. You have always been the beautiful one. And we all looked up to you. You were the first one to go out into the world, and whenever you came back to visit, we all sit enthralled by the stories you tell us of your adventures, of the things you have seen, and experienced, and as we wait for our turn to go, we find strength in the thought you will be with us.

You have always been my fiercest rival. Our quarrels, our disagreements – these weren’t because we hated each other, but rather it was a way for us to learn to have our own voices, our own identity. You were an ally, you were also competition.

This I remember: we rise early in the morning, and walk. I would be scared. Nameless fears would terrify me. But you would hold out your hand and I would grab it, and together we will cross the field, and I would feel secured.

But the tenderest of memories cannot ease the pain of seeing you like this. You who had always been strong, you who had always been beautiful – do not give up. Do not let go. Come back. Whatever it is that scares you, whatever it is that disturbs you, allow us to help. Let us into the private wars you have been fighting. We are here for you.

I love you. For you I knock heaven's doors.