Dear Teddy Bear,
In one month, you will be eight. At that age, you can’t possibly understand how much you mean to me. You see, it goes a little something like this, you are the reason I breathe. Without you, I would have probably landed myself in a dump by now, or ran away. You are the reason I stayed. You make me look at life with a whole new view, just because. You’ve been through a lot, too much according to me, yet you still have so much to go through in the future. Five surgeries later, you still have a smile on your face. You’ve dealt with more pain than I could ever imagine, more pain then I would ever want to bear, and you are still the happiest kid I know. That makes me so happy on the inside. It hurts, though, to see you lying in a hospital bed crying out for help because your pain medication doesn’t work anymore. It hurts, so bad, to be standing there and not able to do anything for you. I can’t lean on the bed because your back has to stay straight from the spinal cord surgery. I can’t even hug you, only kiss. It hurts terribly not to be able to take it all away for me. That’s my role! I’m your big sister; I’m supposed to protect you. I failed you.
The scariest thing is not knowing if you might have a form of Autism on top of your Spina Bifida Occulta. All of your blood related cousins have a form, all but two. That’s a very large probability that you, too, might have it. That worries me. You, my child, are stong and can handle everything, but I’m afraid one day it’s all going to be too much and then you’re going to snap. I just want you to know that you can face anything that comes your way dead on and win every time.
You are a star in the making, and you don’t let anyone get you down. You might wear braces on both your legs, but you still dance like it’s nobody’s business. You dance, run, skip, jump, and fall all the same as everyone else. You might still wear diapers, but you know who you’re real friends are at the end of the day. You might have to cath yourself every three hours or so, but you do that on your own; you’re independent. You might have a terrible voice, but you love you sing. I love to hear it. You may have separation anxiety, but when you’re in my arms, I know you feel safe.
You are so much like me, it’s weird. You want to wear make-up like me. When I straighten my hair, you want to straighten yours too. You are obsessed with the Jonas Brothers, which I got you into, and Taylor Swift. You want your bangs to sweep to the side like mine do. You got into peace signs, and now pretty much everything you own has a peace sign on it, just like me. You have my style, my everything. You love to take pictures, and sing. You are my mini me.
The hardest brick I have hit has been you. You annoy me and want so much of my time. I look past that and push you away. I’m sorry. You are everything to me little one, and I wouldn’t have you bothering me any other way. I know I bicker, and slam my door so you can’t get in, but I’m your older sister, it’s what I do. Whatever the case may be, I love you to death.
Sincerely, Scooby Doo.
QUESTIONS:
1. Do you have any siblings? How many?
2. If you have a Tumblr, will you follow me? (/causeskyesaidso) I follow back!
3. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?
4. Have you ever had a cat just sit and stare at you for hours? 0_o
5. What is your favorite energy drink?
6. What about your favorite subject in school?
7. Are you getting tired of questions yet?
8. Single, taken, not giving a shit?
9. Happy? Content? Mad? Sad? Irritated? Joyful?
10. Recently got any piercings or tattoos?
ANSWERS:
1. Yes, I do. I have six, two brothers and four sisters.
2. I love Tumblr.
3. Going home for the holidays. I hope it does good.
4. Seriously, she won't stop. -__-
5. Monsterrrr!
6. World Civilizations 112.
7. No.
8. Taken, and madly in love.
9. Perfectly content.
10. Neither, but I changed my industrial bar and now it hurts. Pooh.