It’s my final semester in college, and needless to say, it’s been an emotional roller coaster. While on one hand, I’ve been trying to figure out “what next?”, on the other, I don’t want to move on, not one bit.
My little sister had been planning to visit me in college for a few years now, but all our plans had been like a house of cards in a hurricane. But this year was different, our plan did work out, this year was different.
I don’t know what it is about sisters, or just siblings in general, meeting them is like spending time with a bit of “home”, a little package of love, the unconditional and unwavering kind. And spending time with them is like going on a boat ride in the river, it’s calming and serene with frequent gusts of breeze disguised as inside jokes, coupled with a breathtaking view of what surrounds us, the sights we see together, the perspective we share, the similarity of thought accredited to our upbringing, and not to forget, profound conversations about our highs and our lows with ea
ch ebb and flow.
It was while I stood with her at the airport, smothering her with kisses and enveloping her in everlasting hugs that I realised what I hated most about
It had been a while seven months since I last saw her. The person I’m used to sharing
every irrelevant musing with, the person who knows what’s
on my mind without me having to elucidate it, the one who thinks words just undermine what we feel, the one who’s been a constant, is the one who I now crave to meet. Tell me, isn’t it unfair?