Between Bruises & Blooms

I have reread our messages
more times than I can count.

Not looking for who was right.

Looking for the place
where we stopped hearing
each other’s hearts.

You were afraid
we were going to lose your brother.

I was afraid
of losing my children,
my peace,
my ability to look at my daughters
without wondering
if I had ignored something
I shouldn’t have.

Neither fear
was small.

You kept saying,

“I just need him to be okay.”

And I kept saying,

“I need to protect my girls.”

Somewhere between those sentences,
we forgot
that neither of us
was the enemy.

I’m sorry
for every word
that felt like another stone
on shoulders
already carrying too much.

I’m sorry
that my fear
became something
you had to carry too.

I know now
that you weren’t asking me
to abandon my boundaries.

You were asking me
to remember
that even broken people
are still loved by someone.

And I hope
you know

I never wanted
to take your brother away.

I never wanted
to give you another reason
to cry.

I only wanted
to make sure
the people I loved
stayed safe.

I wish
I’d said that
instead of trying
to prove it.

Because when I read our words now,

I don’t see two sisters
turning against each other.

I see two women,

terrified,

holding opposite ends
of the same breaking rope,

both pulling
because neither one
could bear
to let go.

If you can forgive me,

don’t forgive me
for being afraid.

Forgive me

for not realizing

you were afraid too.