The story of Chibi.

This is a tale about a person who is truly special to me, though she doesn’t know it as much, in part because I’ve not shown her anything but lies and deceit in the time that I have, sorry had known her, she will always mark a turning point in my life, mostly because of what she is, more than who she is, having never had a sister, though I had step siblings, I had yearned for a person who I could have the same bond with, like my friends had, with their siblings, and I found two girls who I didn’t know would become something of the sorts, without realising it sooner, than I did.

Chibi was the nickname I gave her, partly because that’s the only way I can show affection, if I give you a nickname, then that means more than anything, because I know the importance of having one, I knew Chibi for years, but due to my propensity to lie to her, about the most childish things, I think she sort of started trusting me less, who would blame her, I was a lousy person, a lousy brother, but what she was for me, that is what I miss, because we were very different.

I loved the western style of things, the way the cinema was there, the lifestyle that was prevalent there, much to her chagrin, she was patriotic, I was lesser so, in part because I had seen things in my childhood, that made me circumspect about what patriotism meant in my country, but she didn’t like my affinity for the world, and disdain for where I lived, not knowing that there were parts of this country that I would cherish forever, in part because of her, and what she represented, but that was a regret, that I tend to only have when I feel that I let her down.

She is driven, to the point of knowing nothing but herself, and doing things for herself, which fascinated me, having never had the intensity that she embodied, being lazy and not driven were flaws that made me who I am, and she was someone who was nice enough, not to say it to my face, but she knew, and that was what made her special, she was wise, but crazy, in the things she did, vindictive, like me, towards those who wronged her, and proud, like none I’ve ever known.

I was sexually abused as a child, and I tend to use it to get sympathy, which I never intended, I only spoke about it, because people didn’t, they would look at me with pity, which I didn’t want, I was searching for others, who were like me, damaged, wanting to find a bond, with someone, anyone who had gone through the fire and hell that came with the instances of being destroyed too young, for even innocent to even be taken into consideration, but she didn’t pity me, or I hoped she didn’t, that was Chibi, she would help people, and I think partly in helping assholes like me, she began to understand what it led to, and went into a frozen ice palace, that no amount of heat could melt.

I’m not good at expressing myself in words so I couldn’t be of help to her, but I knew how to help, my fear of her finding out that I was being too intrusive, would’ve led to a fight, or worse me losing the only person who I could have truly loved, like a sister, like only one other, but that was my fault, another failing in part I believe.

She fell in love, and with a boy who for the most part I was happy to meet, and they are now engaged, it made me happy to see that she had someone, more dependable and far better than a brother who only caused pain and hurt and that she would be looked after, not that she needed it, or that’s what anyone would have you believe, only the truly damned don’t need comfort and love, and being one, I can tell you just how that feels, she though, had the perfect cover, a man who would treat her like a flower, and not like a bull, that only thinks of impaling things, she, for the most part, is happy I think.

I don’t have many redeeming qualities but the only thing that I can be proud of doing, is finding strong women, it didn’t matter how, and it never mattered why, but they were always nice to me, maybe it was that I could listen, or that I was a challenge, but most left, partly due to my inability to make them stay, partly because they didn’t want to look after a boy, rather they wanted a man, who I am now becoming, and hopefully one that would make her proud.

Chibi represents that, now that I’ve marked this year, as the rising tide, that will make me or break me, she and Gigs (another sister, only have two, more important than blood, and no matter who you are, far more important than you.) are the one’s who I want to make proud, Writing is my salvation, but their love is what made me into the person, who can now write, and to some part, write well.

Thank you, Chibi.

Until one day we shall meet again, hopefully, I wouldn’t be a nuisance and a undependable cretin then, until that day.



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