**Diary Entry 15th March**
*”You’re in the way,”* my sister said, then stopped answering my calls.
*”You’re in the way,”* Olivia snapped over the phone, and Emily felt a chill run through her. *”We want to live our own lives, dont you understand?”*
*”Liv, but I just”* Emily began, but her sister cut her off.
*”Cut the ‘Liv’ nonsense. Im forty-five, Ive got my own family, my own life. And you? Always on the phone, complaining, asking for one thing after another.”*
*”But were sisters!”* Emilys voice trembled. *”Weve always helped each other.”*
*”Helped?”* Olivia scoffed. *”Who helped whom, I wonder? When I was going through it with David, where were you? When Jack ended up in hospital, did you even visit once?”*
Emily gripped the phone tighter, a lump forming in her throat.
*”I was working then, you know that. And I had my own”*
*”You, you, always you!”* Olivia exploded. *”Somethings always happening to youyour blood pressure, your nerves, the neighbours. But when others have problems, youre too busy.”*
Emily sank onto her old sofa and shut her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
*”Liv, why are you being like this? Were family.”*
*”Family, yes. But that doesnt mean I have to listen to your complaints every single day. Ive got enough on my plate.”*
*”Fine, I know I can be… clingy. But right now, Im really struggling. After the divorce, I”*
*”Enough!”* Olivia cut in sharply. *”Its been a year. Still moaning about it? Got nothing else to talk about besides your misery?”*
Something inside Emily shattered. Forty-two years, they hadnt just been sisterstheyd been best friends. Olivia was three years younger but always seemed stronger, more decisive. Emily had run to her with every problem since childhood.
*”Liv, please dont be angry. Ill call less, just dont push me away.”*
*”Not less. Not at all,”* Olivia said coldly. *”I need space. We all do.”*
*”‘We all’? What does that mean?”*
*”Davids tired of your calls too. The kids complain Aunt Emilys always crying down the phone.”*
That hurt the most. Jack and Lily, her niece and nephewthe ones she adored, spoiled with birthday cakes and presents.
*”The kids said that?”*
*”Yes. Jack asked me yesterday, ‘Mum, whys Aunt Emily always sad? Did something happen?'”*
Emily bit her lip. She *had* cried often during callsbut wasnt that what family was for? To be weak with?
*”I never meant to upset them.”*
*”But you did. All of us. Were exhausted, Em. Exhausted by your depression, your endless problems, your refusal to pull yourself together.”*
*”Im trying! Ive got a new job, Im seeing a therapist”*
*”And you tell me about it every day. How hard work is, how expensive therapy is, how lonely you feel. Im sick of it!”*
Silence. In the background, Emily heard laughter, musiclife moving on while she sat alone in her tiny flat, fighting tears.
*”I see,”* she whispered.
*”See what?”*
*”That Im in your way. That Im a terrible sister. That youre sick of me.”*
*”Emily, stop being dramatic. We just need space.”*
*”How much? A week? A month? A year?”*
Olivia hesitated. *”I dont know. Until you learn to handle your own problems.”*
*”And if I never do? If I always need my family?”*
*”Then find someone else. Friends, maybe.”*
Friends. The irony. After the divorce, her so-called friends vanishedturns out theyd been *his* friends, not hers. At forty-something, making new ones felt impossible.
*”I dont *have* friends, Liv. Just you.”*
*”Then make some. Or see your therapist moreyoure paying for it.”*
Rage and pain twisted inside her. Did her sister really not understand?
*”A therapist isnt family.”*
*”And family isnt your personal crying rag.”*
Emily hung up. First time shed ever done that.
Her phone rang immediatelyOlivias number flashing. She watched it, numb, until it stopped. A text followed: *”Dont sulk. Im being honest. You need to stand on your own feet.”*
She deleted it.
The evening dragged. Normally, shed call Olivia, chatter about her day, their plans. Now, the silence was suffocating.
Books blurred. The telly made no sense. Sleep wouldnt come.
By morning, her eyes were swollen. At work, colleagues asked if she was alright. *”Just tired,”* she lied.
At lunch, she nearly called Oliviato vent about her boss, a rude client. But she remembered yesterday and pocketed her phone.
On the bus home, she watched strangers bustling past. Everyone had lives, people. What did she have? An empty flat. A telly. The crushing certainty she didnt matter.
She tried cookingsomething fancy, just for herself. Halfway through, the loneliness hit. Whod taste it? Whod care?
Her phone stayed silent. Olivia didnt call.
Next day, she tried ringing her sister. Voicemail. Again. And again.
By evening, it dawned: Olivia was ignoring her.
She texted: *”Liv, lets talk. I dont want to fight.”* No reply.
Next day, she rang from workOlivia hung up the second she spoke.
Pain. Real, physical pain.
She tried David. No answer.
A week passed. Two. Every day, she checked her phonenothing.
She threw herself into self-improvement. Yoga classes. Evenings with co-workers. New clothes. But the victories felt hollow. No one to share them with.
She realised Olivia hadnt just been her sistershed been her entire world. Now, the emptiness was unbearable.
Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe she *had* been too dependent. But was that so wrong?
A month later, she bumped into Lily, her niece. Fourteen now, nearly grown.
*”Aunt Emily!”* Lily beamed. *”Why havent you visited? Mum said you two argued.”*
Emilys heart clenched. *”What did she say?”*
*”That you were upset about Uncle Mark. That you needed time.”*
So that was Olivias version*she* was the one staying away.
*”Do you miss me, Lily?”*
*”Course! You make the best pancakes.”*
Tears threatened again.
*”I miss you too. And Jack.”*
*”Ill tell Mum I saw you. Maybe shell call?”*
*”Dont. Shell reach out when shes ready.”*
Lily frowned but nodded. *”Well, call *me* if youre sad. Ive got my own phone now.”*
She scribbled her number. A thread, however thin, still tied her to Olivias family.
That night, Emily made a decision. If Olivia thought she couldnt cope alone, shed prove her wrong.
She chatted with her neighbourMrs. Wilkins, the busybody widow shed always avoided. Turns out, she was just lonely.
She joined work outings, made tentative friends. Life inched forward.
But Olivias absence ached.
Two months after the fight, Emily stood outside Olivias house, staring at the lit windows. Her familylaughing, eating, livingwhile she lingered on the outside.
She buzzed the intercom.
*”Yeah?”* Davids voice.
*”Its Emily. Can I come up?”*
A pause. *”Nows not”*
*”Please. Five minutes. I need to talk to Liv.”*
More murmuring. Then: *”Fine. But make it quick.”*
Her heart pounded climbing the familiar stairs. How many times had she run up here with cakes, presents, gossip?
David opened the door, avoiding her eyes. Olivia sat stiffly on the sofa, arms crossed.
*”What do you want?”*
*”To talk. To fix this.”*
*”I thought we had.”*
Emily sat opposite her. *”You were right. I *was* too dependent. I complained too much, listened too little.”*
Olivias stance softened slightly. *”And?”*
*”Ive changed. Made friends. Started courses. Handled my own problems.”*
*”Good,”* Olivia said quietly.
*”But I still miss you. Not as a crutchas my sister.”*
Olivia looked down. *”I miss you too. But Im scared itll go back to how it was.”*
*”It wont. I promise. Fewer calls, less drama. Just us, like before.”*
A long silence. Then Olivia sighed. *”Alright. Well try.”*
Relief flooded Emily.
*”Thank you, Liv.”*
*”Just dont call me ‘Liv’,”* Olivia muttered, but the ghost of a smile touched her lips.
They huggedtight, real. And Emily understood: family isnt just leaning on each other. Its knowing when to step back, to let each other grow.
Sometimes, you almost lose the person closest to you before learning how to love them right.
