My little sister may not be so little anymore. But to me, she will always be that tiny little girl in diapers that I would play with for hours on end, growing up.

She was the one person that was always there, through it all. My accomplishments and my mistakes were all very visible to her, and even though the latter might not have made me look so great, she was still so proud of me. She looks at me with her big brown eyes and won my heart over every time.

Growing up, like any other pair of sisters, we had our ups and downs, but we always made up. She has taught me so much about myself and about true, unconditional love. She is passionate, strong, and sensitive, which are things that I would not use to define myself but still trying to learn.

I moved four hours away to the sunny, hot, and dry land of Phoenix. This city is much bigger than my small, comfy hometown. I thought I was more than prepared for college, with two cars full of supplies and a head (that I thought) was full of knowledge and wit. What I was not prepared for was how homesick I would feel.

Family always meant so much to me. I had two parents who loved and supported my sister and me, who I never thought I would have to say goodbye to. There are some nights when home is all I can think of and I think of how I would trade anything to rewind ten years back and be eleven years old again. I wish that I could go back and relive all of the precious memories that are now only thoughts that I have in my heart and in my mind.

My sister is the one person who truly gets me, and who knows me better than I probably know myself. She is a fearless leader, who has such strong passions and pursuits that I know she will reach someday. If there was any way that I could have her with me everywhere I probably would.

As funny as it sounds, I feel that moving away has brought us closer together as if living together for 18 years didn't do the trick. She is constantly on my heart and on my mind and when that little girl pops up on my social media or gives me a call, my throat grows a lump in it, because I guess I miss her that much.

College does some strange things to you. You stress more than you ever thought humanly possible and your childhood home stops feeling like a close stop nearby. You miss family dinners on weeknights, where you all talk about random events that happened throughout the day. You miss busting into your sister's room and asking if you can borrow some eyeshadow.

Those days that you dreaded going to high school, bumping music with your sister in the car doesn't seem like such a bad memory anymore. In fact, it's a memory that you cherish and hold close to your heart because days like those are long gone.

My sister was the one part of growing up that I could never forget. She hugged me through the tears, talked me through some stuff, and listened to me rant about stupid, pointless things that meant the world to me at the time.

The only wish that I have is that she looks at me and she is proud who I have become and supports whatever decisions I make. She will always be my day one that I know that I can call if I need someone to talk to or even just share a Tweet to. It's nice to know that you're not alone in this cruel, unforgiving world, especially if you have someone like her in your corner.

I hope that in those precious 18 years we shared living in the same home, she learned from me, because I know that I learned from her. She's a force to not be reckoned with and a light that will shed on the darkest parts of this world.