Sista Souljah

I talked to my sister Brooke last night. She's a little bit down. A stoopid boy broke her heart.

He has to be an idiot. I know she love(d?) (s?) him, but any boy who would break up with my sister is a fool. Stoopid, stoopid boy. And yeah, I know I'm not spelling stupid right. STOOPID is a higher level of STUPID.

My sister is smart. She's beautiful. She's wicked funny. If I was a man, I'd wanna date her.

Foolish, foolish boy. I hope your new Barbie doll has some sort of sexually transmitted disease. Or, better yet, finds out she likes Midge dolls better than Ken dolls.

My sister is younger than me, but I always made her do the scary stuff when we were kids. She always had to go downstairs and turn off the basement light. I always made HER go into the closet where the breaker box was to turn off the pool pump (I was too scared of the camel crickets...wouldn't you be?!?) Brooke always took the blame for stuff, too. (Um, sorry 'bout that, Neener.)

My sister is the one that whispered and giggled with me in the darkness, under those heavy quilts in our double bed. She's the one who would touch her popsicle toes to my leg at night to hear me yelp. My sister was also my accomplice one year when we took 2 small boxes out from under the Christmas tree and hid in our closet to open them weeks before Christmas. And she is the one I missed terribly when I moved into my own room the summer before 6th grade. I missed her so bad I cried myself to sleep every night for a week, even though it was MY decision to change rooms.

My sister has laughed with (and at) me, cried with me, yelled at me and counselled me throughout the years. She's the best sister in the world. There are days when I crave her company. C-R-A-V-E it like chocolate.

My sister has done was I was too chicken to do. She pursued a career. She got her master's degree and uses it to do a job she loves. She helps people on a daily basis, and she enjoys it.

I took the easy way out of life by getting married and having a family. I was too afraid to pursue a dream. I chose the security of a marriage and family over the fear of figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I settled.

My sister soared.

And yet, she tells me she's jealous of my life. If only she knew how envious I am of her solitude. Her serenity. Her freedom.

*I* am the one that envies her. She's got it going on, y'all. One day, ONE DAY, some not-so-stoopid boy will discover the hidden treasure that is my sister, my neener, my bestest friend. And she'll be his. And I'm afraid she won't need me anymore.

And then what will I do?

I was thinking just today
About how we used to play
Baby dolls and make-up
Tea parties, dress up
I remember how we'd fight
We made up and laughed all night
Wish we were kids again
My sister, my friend