Letters [3]

Dearest, 

I have a letter for you saved in my drafts folder. Every day I open the email, look at your name, and then close it again. 

I stare long and hard at the To: field, my fingers hesitantly typing your email, then slowly backspacing. 

I enter your email. 

I think of all the things I left unsaid, and know they will have to remain unsaid. 

Maybe I only enter your email to remind myself that I haven't forgotten it yet. 

I have a secret. It's the reason why I believed your story so quickly. When I was younger, I made a list of prayers, the majority of them were realistic, but there was one thing I didn't know if I could ask for, if it was even permissible to think let alone pray for such things, and so naturally, that became the prayer I fixated upon. 

I never stopped praying for it, a long time consciously, and then later subconsciously. When you told me the story, I remembered my old prayer, everything else - the realistic wishes - wasn't there, but the one extraordinary secret prayer was. 

I wonder here which one is more marvelous, getting many of your normal wishes granted, or one extraordinary wish. 

You might think the answer is easy - list your secret wishes and see. Rank them in order of how secret they are, the one you've never dared tell anyone at all is your extraordinary wish. See if you would give up everything for a little piece of that magic. I know I wanted to. 

Do you remember what you used to always call me? It starts with S. I never thought I'd hear it being said to me again, but today I did. I puzzled over whether I felt happy to hear it again, or whether I wanted it to remain exclusively yours. 

I didn't decide. 

Look after yourself ok? 

Your sister.