I hate this.

I hate when we fight. Like we're enemies. Like we're complete strangers and irrational, ruthless human beings. Like we don't carry the same blood in our veins or aren't created and born from the same gene pool. Like we aren't sisters.

I'm sorry for being a brat. Truth is: you're a brat, too. And that's probably how I've mastered it so well. I'm sorry for the times I've tried to parent you or correct you, I was just trying to help. I'm sorry for when I've tattled (yes, it was me) or hoped you got in trouble. I'm sorry for when I've talked about you behind your back. Or to your face, for that matter. I'm sorry for driving your car last week and for wearing your favorite Nirvana tee. I promise I'll wash it - the shirt, not the car.

I'm sorry for when I have just downright sucked at being your sister. I'm sorry for when I've judged you. You deserve a sister who can be your rock; you deserve to feel her unconditional support, regardless of what's going on in your life or hers. And I haven't always been that girl for you. But I promise I'll try harder, because you deserve better. And because I can do better.

If you put aside all the tiny details, the pointless banter, and the incessant bickering, there's one constant through it all: I love you regardless. I love you when you take my stuff without asking. I love you when you eat the butt of the bread before I even notice it's gone. I love you when you take my towel when I'm mid-shower and use the last roll of toilet paper.

I love you when you outplay me in sports and when you put me in headlocks. I love you when you interrupt me, steal my punch lines, and take control of the conversation. I love you when all eyes are on you, as they should be - because you're prettier than you know.

I love you when you say horrible things to me. I love you when I say worse things to you.

I love you when you hurt my feelings and when you devastate me like no one else can. Because I have to love you immensely for you to have that sort of power over me. And I do - so, you do.

I used to feel like siblings were forced to love each other. Like we're corralled into this confined space (known as a one-sink bathroom), and forced to coexist - peacefully or not. Lauren, we're so inexplicably different. From our hair color to our pastimes to our deepest passions, purposes, and hopes; innately, we are two repelling, mutually exclusive human beings. But despite the odds, we make this work. I love you because I want to, not because I have to. I choose to not only coexist in this life with you, but to enjoy it with you, appreciating our shared gift of family and the countless blessings around us.

I commend your ability to always see the good - even in me, especially when I can't. You have an unwavering allegiance to positivity and optimism. You have an undying faith in the human existence and a tender humility for humanity. You find hope despite overwhelming discouragement, and you always, always side with goodness.

This life, quite simply, wouldn't be the same without you. It would be unbearably quieter. And extremely tidier. But mostly it would be dull and desolate: a devastatingly stark contrast to the beauty that it is today.

I admire you, I adore you, and I appreciate you.

If it ever feels like I'm going to walk away, know that I won't. And if you feel the urge to do the same, please don't. Things will get hard, and then they'll get harder. But that's never stopped us before. Look how far we've already come, from those whiny and annoying little babes we once were, to the whiny and annoying brats we are now. No matter what it is, we'll get through.

We always have, and we always will.

Keep shining, sis.