It took ten years for my sister to tell me. That she hopes her son, my nephew, doesn’t go to the shitty state college I went to. That he scores higher on his SAT’s than I did. That emotional intelligence means nothing. That happiness doesn’t earn a high paying job. I listen. It’s been ten years since we spoke. I listen. Drinking rosé. Glass after glass. Until I can’t hear what she is saying. Saying Um hum between sips. If only I could erase what I did to myself. I never hurt anyone but me. My sister hurt everyone but herself.
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i am a first generation italian-american who grew up in southern new jersey. Life is amazingly beautiful and devastating. Sometimes in the same day.
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