Do you still feel numb?

If several years ago I had written myself a letter, then I'm sure it would have sounded something like this:

Dear New Lissie,

Do you still feel like that girl who cried herself to sleep? Do you still have to be someone you don't want to be? Have you learned how to talk to people yet? Do you still feel numb? Are you still like me? I hope you're not. I hope that by the time you've read this, you have become someone else. Living like this feels so lonely. I don't know if I could go on if I continued to live like this. Sometimes I wish it had been me instead. I'm the least-liked sibling, so if the one sick was me, then we'd be better off. That's what I think about a lot. Day-to-day life feels so breathlessly numb, and it's felt that way ever since That Day. I know I won't have to specify what day because whether or not I have changed, that is a moment I could never forget. I hope you're happy. I don't think I remember what it feels like to be happy. I hope you can smile again. When people tell me that I look sad, I smile and say that I was just deep in thought. It's not a real smile though. I want so bad to feel okay. I want to feel something. I don't like having to carry all this. I feel like I'm suffocating. I just have hope at this point. I really hope things get better. I hope you're a different person by the time you read this. I hope you have felt happy. Learn to be happy, but never forget me. I feel so little that I don't feel real anymore, and if you forget me then it'll be like I never existed. I know it hurts because I'm living through it, but when it doesn't hurt anymore, you can't forget the hurt. You can move on, but you can't just throw me away. I hope you're happy now.

Don't forget me,

A Different Lissie