Notes

i was thinking more about my sister and i remembered how before i saw her i predicted id hate her and i was shocked when i didnt. but i was right, i just needed a minute and becasue we never spoke about my dad it was easier to ignore but i cant not hate her. i dont blame her per se, but he just infects everything good and hearing her talk is like watching her fester and i hear his voice echo through hers and it makes me hate her.
i dont know how he does it how he convinces and blinds everyone and it makes me feel crazy. she talks like people who think they understand but they dont, as though they cannot comprehend an experience that differs from their own. i hate her distantly on principle for that. she will tell me she understands; he can be mean! she will recount a shared memory identical to my own, and in the same breath speak of him as generous and kind and loving. not once has he treated me with such care. all ive ever known is violent and aggressive and explosive. she thinks she is better than me for seeing past simply his mean side and 'accepting his flaws' with a self asserted maturity as she regards that 'family is everything'.
but really i hate her with a close and burning rage because i cannot shift the belief that she is stupid and naive and idyllic and when she talks about my mother she spits my fathers venom. it stuns me to silence the way he did when i was nine. verbatim i hear her malign my mother and grin at me as though we are comrades and now i am confronted with the fact that he plants seeds inside everything good and poisons it from the inside out. my biggest regret is turning to her to talk of my mother for she is her vicious fathers daughter and merely a fountain for his evil. oh so naive was i to ever consider her a neutral observer, here to love me. she does not understand and i have caught her to late to explain. but it was never my job anyway.
contaminated, i have to keep my distance, i pity her really, being lied to and used and taken advantage of, a warped view of the world, chiorgirl to fathers hellish gospel. (and yet i envy her, an illusioned world is much more beautiful, a childhood intact, a world full of people, where i am alone)

and then i cried
she didnt believe me
she never would