The Kind of Love That Breaks You

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There’s a kind of love that’s deeper than words. The kind where, when they hurt, you’d do anything—anything—to take their place. You see them in pain, and somehow, you start apologizing… saying you’re sorry for what they’re going through, even though it’s not your fault. Because they don’t deserve an ounce of it.


That’s the love I had for Empress. My sister. My best friend. My person.

When she first fell ill, it didn’t seem serious. It was “just anemia,” they said. We all thought she’d be fine in a couple weeks—she thought so too. But weeks went by, and she didn’t get better. I remember the day she left home to get admitted. I cried so much, I made myself sick the next day. I cried with one prayer on my lips:


“God, if anything is going to happen to her, take me instead.”

And I meant every word. A world without my sister wasn’t a world I wanted to live in.


We argued a lot—don’t get it twisted—but no one had my back like her. No one knew me like she did. We were chaos and comfort all at once.

When things got worse and they said the anemia had affected her heart… when she struggled to breathe, to think, to even speak clearly… I couldn’t handle it. I hated seeing her that way. I stayed busy—ran errands, picked up test results—anything to not sit there and watch her fade. I regret that now. I should’ve held her hand more. I should’ve told her how sorry I was that this was happening to her… how much I loved her.


I didn’t know I was running from my last moments with her.

She’s been gone for eight months now. And it still hurts like yesterday. I can’t escape her—she’s everywhere I love. She picked the devices I’m using to type this. Every shirt I wear, every cream, every scent—she picked it for me, always with a glowing “yes” and a smile, picturing me with it.

She built so much of my world.

And now I’m left with what’s left.


For Empress, always.

— Jaes

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