To my girl:

Right now, you’re all there ever was.

It’s my birthday in a few hours. And it’s been said before, and it makes me wince a little, but mostly because it’s honest: I can only wish for you to keep coming true.

Often we’ll be together, and I’ll be distracted by my phone or by the wind and by the time I come back to you; you’re looking frightened again. Life is difficult for you most days, honey, I know. I wish if I wished and wished and wished, that the pain would lift. But I don’t have it in me to move it. That power, it’s not in here. It shouldn’t be about me, I just wish, I wish, I wish…

When you love someone so much, it is worth remembering that when two violins are placed close together, a note struck on one will sound on the other. And I’ve pressed a heart heavy with hope against yours. Do you feel it too? Can you hear me?

I love you. I love the catching curl of your eyelashes, of your hair, of your vocabulary. Your whole precious self.

Once, in a greenhouse, you told me that if you could choose your name you would choose Eden, and I imagined you shining from the first dawn.

Your name isn’t Eden, you’re all there ever was.

Right now, you’re all there’ll ever be.

***

To my sister:

Hey, Harry!

Writing a love letter to you is quite scary, actually! It’s mostly because I love you more than I can tell you, I think. It’s also because when I try to think about how much I love you, it makes it hard to think at all. Right now my head is a net of good feelings. It’s hard to word it, you know? A net of good feelings, and also something like fear.

Even if I were clear-headed, love is a small word that doesn’t fit: doesn’t fit how unshakeable is my belief in you, or how full of pride I am to call you part of me. To call me a part of you.

I know we’d laugh about this if we tried to read it together. You’ve always got this terrific glint to your eye, but never more than when you’re laughing at me.

For that glint: There is no greater part of me than my connection to you. And if people knew you, they’d know this is not a sad thing to believe.

I moved away this year, and we do feel far apart. Missing you makes it difficult to write about loving you. I miss crying, laughing, tripping over our feet to make the 7:36 and I miss belting “Simplethings” to everyone in Devonshire tunnel having a lonely morning, and I miss your strong legs and your strong appetite and I miss, I miss, I miss your smile.

I’m not a good enough writer to do you much justice. But that’s OK. You’re probably beyond most people’s words. I hope that in your heart you know that, that you are pretty much everything.

I spend more of my time than I’d like to feeling like I could probably be a lot better, but when I think of how much I love you, how much I believe in you, how proud I am of you, it fills me right up. You give that to lots of people. You make it impossible for people to resist themselves, that way.

I am what I am, and I am here for who you are, forever.

Truly all of my love,

Your big sister.

Since the beginning, right ’til the end.

—By Eliza, 18, Sydney, Australia