My birthday is two weeks away, and I could not have been given a better gift. Cold, winter rain has descended on the university, and the classrooms finally feel warm. My paperwork is lining up, and I have no doubt that the end of the semester is in sight with passing grades within reach. This progress towards a better existence has begun to unfold and the aspects of myself revealing their true nature is a dazzling display of color in my life. Friendship has, also, taken a new form. I suppose I have a sister now. A bosom friend: eighteen years old and so much like me at her age. I grew up the older sister of a baby brother, and communicating with a young man is different than communicating with a young woman. Granted, I am still quite young myself, but I have experienced plenty within my personal footprint. I have decided to pass on my wisdom to her; this is wisdom, I suppose, I gained from the life my choices forced me to live out. My past. I don’t want her to follow my wrong steps; but, sometimes the thought is laughable. I tell myself that this is a ridiculous idea because dealing with eighteen-year old drama is sometimes unbearable. I am sorely out of practice when it comes to being the older sister of a girl. She is wild and headstrong and a dork and beautiful. But, I love her for her quirky nature, melodrama and fears because she listens and she cares and she wants what is right in her life. This quality is my favorite thing about her, and why I love her dearly.
She inspires me.
She makes me want to be a better person; someone who strives for a great life with a great partner and great friends. And, finally, finally, I see it all within my reach. I see budding friendships. A bright future. A growing faith. Tell me… can something this beautiful really last?