It seems strange to say I don’t even know how many Valentine’s Days have passed since the worst one… a lot… but not enough to wipe my memory clean, not even close. We used to talk about how it was the worst day for both of us, for years after we would get together, get wasted, and cry and talk and cry.
My first memory of that year is getting into the car in the Spring and you telling me that your Mom had a bad cough, they thought it was asthma. I could tell you thought it was something else. Fast forward to June, my 19th birthday, we found out it was cancer. You came over and I made you cold washrags for your eyes and we cried for days. This is where time starts to jump around for me. I remember so many nights of trying to keep you sane. I remember you disappearing that one night, when we packed up all of the empty bottles to go break them on train tracks. I found you crying in the middle of the street trying to get hit. I kept trying to convince you that they could take it out. You were in school, you just stopped going, I convinced you to try again. The day we got you accepted back we found out it was in her brain. Nothing will ever take the sound of your sister’s scream from my mind.
I sat with your Mom that night. It was almost Christmas. She asked me to promise to take care of you, and I did, and I tried.
I don’t know what happened to the time after that. December? Your birthday passed in January. I’m sure I tried to make it amazing, and I’m sure it didn’t help. February. She was in hospice. You called and said you needed me, I was on the bus home from work and I jumped off at the next stop, the bus driver yelled at me for not pulling the cord and I started to cry so hard I thought I was going to throw up in front of these people. I was so scared. I was so sad. I needed to be there.
Days passed slowly then. I think I went to work a couple of times, but mostly I slept on the couch in the waiting room while you tried to decide if this was it. I protected you from the endless streams of friends and family. February 13th, you were taking me home, everything was a little better so we could breathe. Her friends called me and told us to turn around. That night, I fell asleep on that same flowery couch, and woke up at 4:23am. I sat straight up and met eyes with her best friend. We knew. Something in the air had changed. She was gone. You came out and curled up in my lap, and didn’t want to talk to your sister. You just wanted us to go home and watch TV. We did.
After that, you got thrown out of the house we were living in. We fought. You tried to kill yourself and I found you. I was so angry at you. I was supposed to take care of you, and it was killing us both.
Every year, no matter what, we’d get together on Valentine’s Day and remember her. Laugh about when the cat got out in the middle of the drama. Remember how beautiful her hair was. We’d put her urn in the middle of the table and talk to her. All I ever tried to do was take care of you. Years later in marriage counseling, Tony and I were supposed to celebrate Valentine’s Day together, you called, and I left. That’s when I knew my marriage was over. That’s when I started to realize that taking care of you, might mean letting you learn to take care of yourself.
Dear long lost friend, I hope you spend tomorrow with someone who loves you the way that I always tried. You deserve everything. You will always carry a piece of my heart, Happy Valentine’s Day.
Update May 2026. This girl has been back in my life for over a decade now. She got sober and then helped me get sober. She has done incredible things with her life and just graduated from school as a therapist. She’s using everything she has been through to give love and hope to kids like her. We still spend Valentine’s Day together when we can, but now we go running in the sand. It turns out this was the entire point, this kind of love. I had it the entire time through my friends and family. I don’t think I’m meant for anything else and I’m at peace with that.
More to come.
Professional Driver, Closed Course 