You, sister, will never see this. You will never get to see who I have become, and who I am yet to become. It hurts everyday. There hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought about you. Mom says that you're probably happier with him than you were with us. I am not the only one hurting. Your dog and your daughter, remember them, they sit by the door and wait for you to come home at six-thirty every night, just like you used to. I leave them alone and do my best not to say your name so I don’t get their hopes up. Your half of the bedroom remains untouched. Every picture, blanket, charger, perfume bottle, ring, earring, necklace, and spec of dust stays right where you left it. The rest of the family just pretends that everything's okay and that you'll come back. But I know that your not going to. I hope that your watching me from a far, because I sure am. I know youve blocked me on every social media platform. You wont answer texts or calls. I google you name every single day. Just incase something happens to you. Just to be sure. Your phone number is written in one of your favorite pens on a notecard next to my bed. It lays atop of the rest of these letters. Everybody misses you. You come up in conversation every once and awhile, but then we all go silent for an even longer while. I hope you see this. I just want you to know that I miss you. I just want you to know that Dad was right, you never truly know what loss feels like until you have to grieve the loss of someone who lives down the road, but calls the police when you knock on their door.