I have never felt alone on this planet, not even during the first moments of my life. Aside from my mother and father, I also had my sister Amanda. She was only 1 year old at the time, and still she loved me without even knowing the person I’d become. Upon meeting her for the first time, I’m sure my young mind couldn't grasp the idea of how much of an impact she would make on me. As we grew older together, I got to know her better. We both got to know all our quirks and all our flaws but still that didn’t change the trust we developed for each other. Two years after I was born, our family grew. We added a new baby boy named Thomas and then another little girl named Neyda. Many would assume, that because I am a guy that my best friend might be my brother. In my life this is quite the opposite. My sister is my best friend and I wouldn't change that.

Although my sister is family, I do still really consider her my best friend. Some might find this odd because typically a best friend is someone that you meet in elementary school during recess but that wasn't the case for me. There really isn't much that I would not tell her and I know from experience that there isn't much she wouldn't share with me. We have been through a lot together and we’ve both witnessed each other at our finest and at our worst. We have both shared many memories involving joyous family events and tragic family arguments. I vividly remember the moment I realized she was my best friend and I was her’s.

It was a warm summer day during my senior year of high school and I had just arrived home from school. I walked into the house and down the stairs and headed to my bedroom. I threw off my book bag and laid on my bed and focused my attention on the nice coolness of the basement and suddenly, I heard a banging and the muffled voice of my sister coming from above where I lay. The sounds I heard were coming from my sister’s bedroom that sits right above mine and again I heard the same banging on the ceiling and the muffled voice that said, “Come here.” I sighed in disbelief that this could be anything of importance and walked back up the stairs.

I approached her room and knocked on the door. I immediately knew something was off but I had no idea what to expect. I opened the door to her bedroom and found my sister crying on her bed in the dark. Basically, it felt like I had just walked into a typical rom-com and I was playing the role of the supportive best friend who relentlessly tells the victim of the broken heart how special they are. I immediately turned the light on and gathered my thoughts and searched for the right words to say. My sister explained to me that her boyfriend of four years had just broken up with her and this, to her, felt like the end of the world. Even though I had my own problems going on, I had to quickly learn to put that all aside and give my focus to her. We sat and talked for hours, laughing, crying, eating and mainly just dealing with the situation at hand. Towards the end of the talk we hugged and cried together like the two saps our mother raised. When I hugged her, I felt important and like I had just fulfilled a job that not many can do. At this moment I reaffirmed that this is my best friend and this really broke the barrier of what we share with each other. Although this wasn't the ideal situation, it brought something good with it.

Today, my sister and I still remain the closest of friends. She was of course able to get over the heartache of the relationship and as cheesy as it sounds, she learned to love again. Again and again, I find myself constantly surprised with the amount of strength and honesty that she exhibits. She has influenced the things that I do and how I go about maintaining relationships with other friends. I suppose some may find it odd that my sister is my best friend, but I honestly don't. I hope that our relationship will stay solid, just the way it has been for the past 21 years.