My sister died at 19 after our last conversation ended with me saying, “I wish you were dead,” leaving me haunted by guilt for nine years.
Then I found her old phone and an unsent message saying I was the best thing in her life and that she planned to tell me the next day.
Her words didn’t erase my regret, but they reminded me that one painful moment never defined our love—and I’m finally learning to forgive myself.