Sister Suck

        Sisters are the worst thing in the world, at least in my experience. While some sisters come to a compromise of give and take, being best friends forever, my sister and I have never found that balance. My sister, Megan, and I have always (as my mom says) had "strong" personalities. Consequently, our heads bump frequently. Actually, who am I kidding? They always do.
       While I just typed that I believed the balance is delicate, I quickly backspaced, sure that it is in fact not very sensitive at all. Megan, though, happens to be a jerk who is two-faced, putting on separate acts for everyone save my parents and me. Everything I do, every accomplishment, every outfit, goes under her silent speculation. At times, I will muster all my courage into telling her to stop, that we need to meet in the middle. Feeling similar to the protagonist and hero, I am only shot by the villain who retorts dumbly, playing innocent, denying crime in her actions. I am forced to step back, know that I am emotionally the bigger person, overstepping her sly tricks.
       I really enjoy ending my entries with solutions, realizations, revelations... whatever they may be generally referred to. Sadly, I do not have one. While I wish I did, I wish that fourteen years would be enough time for us to work out the problem, wishes are just balls of gas blazing through the sky or glimpses of 11:11 as we steal peeks at the clock during class. There is no solution and I doubt that we may ever come to one. The desire of a justification still exists, as I can honestly say that I would be more elated than distressed if Megan were to be gone and I don't want to go on feeling that way. After-all, she is my sister. I may have learned to apologize for her when I meet someone who knows her, but she is my sister. Elucidating on what that truly represents is difficult for me, more probably because it has a more negative connotation than positive, but being sisters counts for something. Looking back upon this blog, that is her redeeming grace: we are sisters. It may not stand for anything pleasant, but it cannot be changed and sounds about as precious as pink bows and polka-dotted ribbons. And, perhaps, one day it will be legitimate, a significance of friends tied by blood that endured and shared life together. But that remains a huge perhaps.