Krystle:

One morning when I stepped out of the shower I noticed - as always - the layers of letters formed in the mist on the mirrors from all the notes written over the last year and a half. You know, no matter how much and hard I clean that stupid mirror, every time it gets foggy in the bathroom, the millions of notes reappear.

This particular time when they materialized, I got my nose right up close to the mirror (didn't have my contacts in yet) and started looking for your handwriting. It was impossible to tell what you'd written, since we'd composed so many notes over notes over notes over notes... Wipe and write, wipe and write; that's how we roll. All I could do was appreciate the shape of your handwriting in layers.

Then, in the lower righthand corner of the mirror, there was this almost magical opening in the gibberish. Four words stood out, clear as day once I noticed them. These were four words you, my sister, had written to me on one of my darker days - using your pen to encourage me and show me love when I felt most unloveable.

The words said, "You are NOT weird."

Remember?