by Mother Knew
Journals are meant to help. I need help. I sound crazy, don't I? But as long as I don't look crazy, there's no problem. Mother had always taught me that. Maybe she knew that eventually something would happen, and I'd crack.
Lodie wouldn't ever crack. Mother had always known that, too. Lodie always finds a way to be happy. She always finds a way to see the good. How does she always find a way to be better than me? I mean, she knows how to make everything better. I'm meant to be the one who's supposed to do that- and I can't, and it's killing me inside.
Lodie should be the responsible one.
In Canada, all I did was mope. I didn't help her, she helped me. She was the stronger one. She always has been. I was the weak one who had to return to France. Mother knew.
It's like that when we were born, all of our happiness was poured into her, and everything else was dumped on me. I'm the bad half. The half that people prefer to ignore- the half that ruins the other.
I envy her so much.
And Mother knew I would.
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» A poem ^^
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