Tonight I had yet another conversation with my sister where in she tells me how she is being ground down to a useless nub, and she mused openly about dying prematurely because my mother is wearing her out, which leaves me to wonder what exactly is expected of me given that I live 125 miles away from everyone.
Sis claims she's not resentful of the fact I live so far away, but actions speak louder than her words, and I cannot help but feel nothing but resentment coming from her.
Perhaps my role for her is to just be a person to whom she can vent? I don't know. All I know is I feel powerless to help her in any real, tangible way.
My life is here.
Her life is there.
And it feels like a galaxy of geography separates the two.
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