For the first 18 years of my life, I shared a room with my sister. With very-little-to-no privacy in my apartment as it was and an almost six-year gap between us, this was grounds for constant attacks at the throat. Despite all of this, we were still very close. Years of conversations in the dark when we couldn't sleep; scrolling the Internet side-by-side with an occasional, "Oh my god, you have to see this," accompanied by tears of laughter; getting each other painfully hooked on the same stupid TV shows or bands we were suffering over by ourselves.
Yes, I can visit her and see her cats, but I can't steal one of her tops if all the clothing I want to wear is in the laundry on a Monday morning before school. I can text her and spill my feelings, but I can't incessantly bother her about a guy who is not worth my time, or a friend who hurt me. She can hang around at home, but she has to leave early because she has to work in the morning.
Every other day, something will come along that I think she needs to see or know, and it wouldn't do it justice to send via text, but it escapes my mind and is gone forever. We find ways to stay in touch and do things we never did together as kids, like apple-picking, or seeing some of our favorite bands. She'll text me about how she pulled up next to Nick Jonas on the George Washington Bridge (true story) and I'll bug her about how Tyler Posey slaughtered me with his new Instagram post (true story).
My experiences with friends and the people I surround myself with opened up my eyes to how important sibling relationships are. Most likely, we will never live in the same residence together ever again, and that baffles me. The person who woke me up every morning by arguing with our mother (and the person I returned the favor to 😉), the person who gave me that look when I made excuses for a f**kboy, is no longer right there when I need her to be because she's living her life and moving on--and that's just it.
Everyone around me is moving on, but that is where your sibling is different. People are always going to be coming in and out of your life, but you can speak to your sister after three weeks of absolute silence and still pick up wherever you left off. At least I can take a train on the weekends to see her, and she visits weekly to watch "Teen Wolf" (when I said stupid TV shows, I meant it).
(Love you, Sammy. **ricochet/katana**)
