Good Riddance

I miss my sister.
When I get sad, and only want to curl into my bed, hugging a picture of her and me and cry, I don't. When I miss how messy her room always was and the make-up and hair gook that flowed endlessly from it, and the loud angsty music that she listened to, I put on some jazz, think about how I want Chivas, and that day in Peru.

Whenever I get really sad, and start to miss her, I think about this one day when I was in Peru. It was right after she'd graduated, and was working as a lifeguard at an amusement park an hour south.
I'd called my mom to check in with her, and it turns out that she was with my sisters at the Target down the road from my house. I ended up talking to Kaci for a good few minutes. I made her a little bit jealous by counting the mountain peaks I could see from the storefront I was standing at. [There were about fifteen. Give or take.] I told her how I'd cuddled with my pixie-esque cheerleader friend.

And she told me a story. She'd been guarding at the lazy rive, and a woman got hurt. She was older, and had a spinal injury or something along the lines. My sister held herself responsible for the woman. She started to choke up on the phone. She told me how she missed me, and she needed me that night.
"I needed my best friend." Was what she said.

There are days, like the day I found out Macey was dating a guy, like the day Des died, like when Katie Jones began following me on Twitter, like when I got home from Peru and Fuge, that I needed to talk to her. I still get like it. When I wanna hug my big sister, and cry into her shoulder, and sob for hours, and not have to worry about looking like an idiot.

I love my mom, but she isn't always comforting. Like when I found out about Macey dating that one guy, I cried to my mom about it. Her words of comfort? "Oh, come on. You honestly didn't think this wouldn't happen, right?"
And my dad didn't say anything, which is how I prefer things. [There are few times when me and my dad have deep kinda conversations. Late at night or in the car alone. (AKA, sans my mother.)]
Kaci would've talked about the guys that had left her hanging. That ended up dating her best friends, or had lied about this and that.

I love my parents, but they aren't Kaci.

My sister will be twenty in November. I'll be seventeen on Wednesday. She left home the first night of my dream job and hasn't spoken to me since. She's been gone three hundred and nine teen days.

If she reads this, and I kinda want her to, I want her to know two things. 1.] I'm still mad at you, but, 2.] I still love you and want you home.

ARTIST: GREEN DAY