Do I follow?

It's coffee at midnight, in the only restaurant in town that never closes. It's the long rides on dark roads on nights when she's laughing and we are singing along to an old song. It's the earthy smokey smell on his jacket, that I've been wearing for far too long. It's the days we remember ladybugs and their stupid little song. It's good morning sunshine before the sun even comes out. It's good night for the fourth time at three am when she has to get up at four. It's mickey mouse pancakes, peanut butter cups dipped in whip cream, and heath bar cake. It's the fair on my birthday, and a night at home alone for her's. I sometimes wonder if I'll be like her. When I split pills and pour the powder down my throat because the sleep comes faster. When I had my first drink at 12 and my second not very long after. When I found that I fall for men older than me. She's done the impossible, double herself in a new body. Then there are things that are different. She had already graduated and aborted my brother by her 17th year. While I, have been held back by her fear. She told me to learn from her mistakes, that she showed me everything not to do. Often it feels like we are equals. She told me once that I had to be better than her. That I couldn't drown myself in men and drugs to make the world fade. I promised I wouldn't at the time, but I feel kindly cheated now. The younger me never knew how hard it would be. How easily I could just drift. One stranger then the next in my bed,  xanax clouding my head. No it was never meant to be easy.