After The Last Embrace

“When an Argument Stole My Brother/Sister from Me”

It wasn’t death. It wasn’t physical distance. It was an argument — one of many. But this time, something broke. Something we didn’t know how to fix. Something left without words, without apologies, without return.

My brother/sister is still alive — but no longer in my life. And that too is grief.

We were roots. We were shared history. We were a childhood woven with games, secrets, and fights that always ended in laughter. But this time, there was no laughter. No reconciliation. No “I’m sorry.” Only silence. Only pride. Only wounds that grew deeper with time.

People say, “siblings always come back,” that “blood is thicker than water,” that “time heals everything.” But not always. Sometimes, time drives you further apart. Sometimes, blood cools. Sometimes, love hides behind pain. And you’re left with guilt, anger, and sadness — knowing that someone who was part of you no longer wants to be.

I miss him/her, even if I don’t say it. I miss the sound of their voice. I miss the way they looked at me. I miss their presence in important moments. I miss knowing that no matter what, they were there. And now, on every birthday, every family gathering, every bit of news I wish I could share — there’s an empty space no one else can fill.

And though I try to justify it, there are days when pain wins. Because I know we both said things we shouldn’t have. Because I know we both caused pain. Because I know the love is still there — buried under layers of pride, fear, and silence.

Loss through conflict is an open wound. Because there’s no closure. No goodbye. No certainty. Because every day you wonder if you should call, write, reach out — and every day, fear stops you from trying.

I write this for you — for all who have lost a brother/sister because of an argument, for all who still love them in silence, for all who keep waiting without knowing if there’s anything left to wait for. Because your pain matters. Because your story deserves to be told. Because your love doesn’t disappear after a fight.

🌿 Another Perspective: How to See This Loss

Not all ruptures are final — but that doesn’t make them any less painful. Sometimes, grieving someone who’s still alive is even harder. Because there’s hope. Because there’s anger. Because there’s love that no longer knows where to go.

Your pain is valid. Even without death. Even without a clear ending. Even if no one understands. What you shared was real. What you lost was too.

You’re not failing by moving forward. Living isn’t betrayal. Laughing isn’t forgetting. Loving again isn’t replacement. It’s part of the process. Part of transformation. Part of how love learns to live with absence.

💌 From Me to You

To you — who lost a brother or sister who’s still alive, who shared life, childhood, secrets — and now share silence.

I want you to know that I see you. That I hear you. That I’m with you.

You’re not alone — even if the world doesn’t understand, even if no one asks, even if you yourself don’t know how to explain what you feel.

You’re not broken. You’re grieving. You’re in transit. You’re rebuilding.

Your brother/sister still lives within you — in your way of loving, in your way of enduring, in your way of remembering.

And if today the pain overwhelms you, if the world feels colder — that’s okay. You don’t have to heal quickly. You don’t have to be strong. You don’t have to prove anything.

You just have to exist. You just have to allow yourself to feel.

Because even in absence, love remains. Because even in silence, the bond endures. Because even in grief, you are still you.

I embrace you from here, with all my respect,

— Luz 🤍