Left Behind by Blood (II)

I used to be inside their laughter. Now I only hear it through phone calls I’m not part of. We’re still tied by blood— but I feel like a shadow trailing behind a family that kept walking without me. They still talk, still share secrets, but now I am the last to know— if I’m told at all. And I don’t blame them. I was on a different path. Not by choice. Just by the way things fell apart. The cousins I once grew beside now feel like strangers in familiar skin. My siblings found their place in that world. But I lost mine. Sometimes I wonder if they miss me. If they remember the version of me that used to be in the circle too. I don’t want the affection I once cried over. Not anymore. I just miss the closeness. The belonging. The feeling of not having to ask, "Do I still matter to them?" But it’s too late, and too far. Now, I just hope— they carry pieces of me somewhere as they move forward without me.