When guilt bites you in the ass

There's nothing you can do.

You can act indifferent, sure.

But you also need to break down and just cry.

I am a horrible horrible person.

How I manage to have fun when the monster inside me is kicking and screaming and wanting to party is beyond me.

I've taken everything for granted. Laughed at people with misfortunes. Never caring what others would feel. Just doing the things that I like without thinking of the implications it would cause other people.

I had twenty one years to make peace with one person. To go online, book a flight to Canada and visit her.

I had twenty one years to pick up the phone and tell her I wasn't angry anymore.

I had twenty one years to tell her that no matter what, she was still my sister.

I had twenty one years to have a relationship with my nieces and nephews and my cousins.

I had twenty one years to log on to hotmail and send them an email. A monthly update of what's been going on with me and my life here in the Gold Coast.

I had twenty one years to send them greeting cards for their birthdays, Easter, Graduations and Christmas.

I had twenty one years to make my dad happy by agreeing to have lunch with my sister everytime she asked.

But I didn't even try.

Now she's no longer with us and it's killing me.

She passed away a few weeks ago and I didn't even find out til today. A letter from my dad confirmed that I really am a monster.

She was waiting for you. She wanted to call you, she tried actually but to no avail. We had her cremated the day after she passed.

While I was out quitting my job, getting drunk, hooking up and making a total mess out of my life, my dying sister was trying to call.

I thought back on all the private number phone calls that I received a few weeks back. I just let it ring because I wasn't in the mood to talk. Either that or I was too drunk to even answer.

If I had picked up, it would've changed everything. I would've been on the next flight to Ontario patching things up with her.

But no, I have too much pride in myself that I let it go.

When I found out she was dying I thought I was going to be ok with it. I didn't know her so it wouldn't affect me that much, right?

But I was wrong, I read the letter and my heart died. Thoughts of all the things I could've done came rushing to my head and I was left with remorse.

I hate myself for not being the bigger person. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be a part of my dad's life. To be accepted as one of his children. To have sisters and brothers.

Then I started growing up and I realised it wasn't going to happen. I moved on but I turned into a very angry person.

I started being a smart-ass everytime they tried calling. Everytime they tell me that I need to sort out my life, I had a comment that cut really deep and we ended up in each other's throats.

My dad thought that keeping us apart would be the best way to go. So he did. I lived with my mum and they all lived their lives in Ontario.

A few of my sisters still tried reaching out. But I was too angry.

I found out she had a cancer and I just shrugged it off. I told dad that she'll be alright and that she'll outlive everyone. Dad begged me to come visit her. To just stay for a few weeks and patch things up with her.

I told him I was busy. With work, with uni and with my life.

I was too self-absorbed that I couldn't tear myself away from my life.

Then she died and the realisation that she wanted me as her sister and that she regretted everything that she's done and that she was begging dad to get in contact with me hit home.

Four million times.

This is, in fact, the worst day of my life.