To my brother, 

In my head, I understand the reasons why you did what you did.  I have been there many times myself.  Parts of me admire the fact that you had the guts to do it, but then I get so sad that you felt that was the only option you had. Why didn’t you just pass out?  I know you have a million times before.  

I wish you would have told me goodbye.  You told other people (in your own way) and you acted like you didn’t even have a sister.  I know we haven’t really talked in years, but you were my twin brother.  We were together in the womb.  You have always been in my world.  I don’t understand why you waited till I got to town and then killed yourself without ever contacting me.

Was it my fault because I didn’t call you right away? I think it might be less painful to believe that I had something to do with your decision than to accept the fact that for you, I didn’t even exist.

Have you any idea of the wreckage you left behind?  You think your life was a mess. Your death was way worse.  I worry about our little brother. Yeah, he’s 44 years old but he’s the one that got to clean out your place. He’s got the cap with the .22 hole in it.  He dragged bags and bags of your shit out of your house.  He’s also paying off your credit card bills because he wants to keep your house and build a legacy.

I love you so much, but I am so mad at you.  I already forgive you and I miss you. 

Your twin sister, age 53