I cried tonight for Hannah.
I cried tonight because I heard her laughing at the angels flying above her head, and to make her feel better I had to pretend to see them too.
I cried tonight because I used to tuck Hannah in goodnight when I was little. I would read her books. I would sing songs to her for hours. I would think up funny words so she would laugh.
I cried tonight because I thought of something I used to pray every single night for over eight years. "God, please touch Hannah and heal her." I wanted to see her walk and hear her talk. I wanted to play with her, teach her how to ride a bike and put on makeup. I wanted it for me; I wanted it for my parents; I wanted it for Hannah.
I cried tonight because I couldn't feel any angels in that room, but there were plenty of demons waiting for me in my room. Like predators hiding in the shadows.
I cried tonight because of a truth I know deep down but I refuse to accept. Hannah's slowly deteriorating health. Time ticking by slowly. Her thirteenth birthday in just a couple weeks.
I cried because of the very thought of saying goodbye.
And I cried tonight because I realized I have not emotionally and mentally braced myself for that day.
And I don't want to. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to brace myself for anything. I just want to keep singing to her and sharing laughs with her. I don't even want to consider an inevitable future where I will no longer hear Hannah's laughter.
I...just...refuse to let the thought enter my head. I brushed it tonight and it almost crushed me.
And I cried tonight because I am my least favorite person on earth, and I can feel the demons in my room right this minute, and I can't shake off sin's grip on my shoulders nowadays, and my throat is slowly closing up. And I cried because even someone as wretched and unworthy as I has been given the incredible gift that is to know my little sister. I cried because of my darkness, and Hannah's light.