love-hate relationship

i remember when you used to run around our neighborhood completely naked with just your curls and your blanket. i remember when you used to hide that same blanket somewhere in our huge house, blame it on me or our older brother, watch us get sent to “the corner” and then magically locate that rag as soon as we lived out our punishment. i remember how you and i used to make an intricate fort in the walk-in pantry anytime that there was a measly thunderstorm because we swore it was a tornado. i remember when there actually was an awful tornado/hurricane and the entire family spent almost six hours in that pantry and you sat right next to me and we shared cheddar whales until the box was empty, or the storm was over, whichever came last. i remember how we used to have two, way-bigger-than-nesscary-for-any-kid-sized rooms, but we always slept together in the same bed in your room. if you had lice, i had lice. if you ate a bowl of noodles, i ate a bowl of noodles. i remember how i would pull you around the neighborhood in that bicycle rickshaw for hours and hours and you would just sit in it, zipped up, sucking your two fingers and smelling your blanket. i remember when our father passed away how confused you always looked. i remember how much candy you used to eat and how little food groups you ever explored. i remember your first bicycle without training wheels. i remember how you became very interested in the equestrian lifestyle and you even started taking lessons and you even set up jumps in our main hallways downstairs and you only let me pass if i did a medium-speed canter and cleared all the “jumps” that were made out of broomsticks and vacuums. i remember your first cellphone. i remember how many times we hopped on our bikes and made trips to that little shack on the beach in costa rica together just to get you an american candy bar. i remember how many stupid videos we made and how late we stayed up even though we had a grueling two hours of homeschool the next morning.

i don’t remember when the quick metamorphosis took place. i don’t remember there being any gradual steps of you growing up so quickly. although you’ve yet to reach the divine age of 18, you went from child to adult in the blink of an eye. i don’t remember when you bought your first bra or started wearing makeup. i don’t remember when you first started texting boys. i don’t remember when you got your first boyfriend. i don’t remember how or when you got so good at being a girl and doing your hair and doing your makeup. i don’t remember the first time you insisted our mother to run to the store to get you tampons because it was an emergency. i cannot remember for the life of me when you started comfortably cussing (which is hilarious to me, by the way, for the most part). i don’t remember when you finally conquered the challenge of saying “specifically specific,” but you did. i don’t remember you getting so good at basketball, but you did and you run the court now.

i didn’t take much time on your birthday to tell you how much i love you. i didn’t put into words how beautiful you are (i think you hear it a lot….everyday….from many different people….but you should know how beautiful you are from my point of view). i didn’t get to verbally tell you this morning how much fun i had these past couple days with you. i didn’t get to mention how much i will miss you this year while i’m at school. i couldn’t find the words to tell you that i hate you and love you all at the same time but i’m allowed to because i’m your sister.

i hate you and love you all at the same time.

happy birthday.


this photo was taken right before i left for school last summer. since then, i have lived in four different states and five different houses. however, “home” is across the hall from you.


say it to my face, dude. (enter your comment below, i love all forms of feedback)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s