Older Sister’s off in La-La-Land (Las Angeles) and Me? Well, I’m emo.

I seem to be loosing whatever slight “edge” I had.
I remember telling myself some years back, in a mantra of sorts, that “the middle-child is strong, the middle-child has no emotion, the middle-child does not cry,” but I seem to have left that mantra in the ditch some years ago because I am loosing my “edge.”

So, I tried staying up as late as possible on the 28th. I tried, but she (my older sister, who was packing all of her worldly possession and was preparing to move away the next day to California [to go to UCLA]) was getting really snippy and stuff, so I went to bed.
The next morning was, for me, eerily quiet. My little sister was at work. Dad was on his computer in the basement. My older sister was in her room putting the final touches on her luggage.
So I ate breakfast and waited for mom to come home from London (eye appointment).

It was still so quiet.
My little sister came home early and my older sis and my dad (who was driving to the airport with her, and was going to fly there with her to help her get set up) were carting luggage upstairs to the front room.
Still, for me, silent.

Mom came home around 12 and we helped her unpack the stuff my grandmother had forced her to bring home, then mom broke first. I knew she would cry. She always does. She tried laughing, tried laughing it off. I hugged her and went to the next room to tell my older sis that mom was crying, so she went to see her.
I had told her the day before that mom would probably cry all day. She had said “What? No. Really?” So I told her “Oh, definitely.”
I was only half right.

So, we all pitched in moving the luggage to the van, then dad and my sister started getting ready to leave.
Mom started crying again, and I could feel that hard, stereotypical lump form in my throat. I had to keep turning away, pretending I was fixing my hair that was being blown by the wind into my face.
My little sister hugged my older one and said “I’ll miss you.” And my older sis laaaaughed and we all laaaaughed ‘cause those two just do not get along.

Though, when my older sister phoned today, she asked mom to tell my little sis that she was really sorry she laughed at her for that.

So then, laughing, I hugged her and I think she knew about the damned lump, because she held on to me. Maybe it was just my imagination, or maybe it was because I was hanging onto her for dear life. I don’t know.
I turned away form her and said “Aw man, now I’m gonna start crying!” and laughed as I “fixed my hair” again.
Then they drove away and my little sister ran inside to go back to conversations left in limbo on MSN and mom and I stood there, waving.
She turned to me and said “You’ll be okay. Right?” And I just…broke.
I threw my hands up to my face and just started sobbing. In between sobs, I managed to cough out “I just don’t know.”
Mom put her arms around me and started saying something along the lines of “She’ll be back for Christmas. Christmas isn’t that far away.” She then told me to go lay down. So I did. I closed my door, sat in my computer chair and just sobbed.
I knew, and still know, that she’ll be back for Christmas, but it seems like forever-away.

I know I usually just complained about her, but even though she was beyond bitchy most times, she truly cared. She made me laugh SO HARD the last two nights we spent watching movies. When I had posted on DeviantART that poem about knowing a girl who was raped (in first year) she called me at Omi’s and tried to explain everything, tried to calm me down. Last year, when I felt so damned alone, she called me repeatedly to cheer me up. She sent me a hilarious book to help me. She took me to Alberta with her. Me! The tee totaling, 80-year-old in a 20’something’s body. Sure, she was a stereotypical older sister: smarter, “cooler,” more independent, more free, more sure of herself than I could ever be, envied beyond belief, and so god-damned annoying most of the time, but she’s still my sister…


Today, around 3PM when I was in the house alone, dad phoned and told me about the trip down and the plane and the city and how “horrible it is, so many flowers and palm trees, haha!”
When I hung up, I went down to the basement (I still don’t know why) and went into the fruit cellar and sat on the cold, concrete. Mocha came over and started doing her silly “I’m-a-gonna roll around on the floor and look like a fuzzy-cute-idiot” thing. Then she stood up and started purring and headbutting my knees. I just looked at her and said “Do you know who that was? It was your mommy. And she’s never coming home.” Which I know is not true, but it just feels that way. I started crying again. And Mocha just sat there and purred.

I know, I know, I know. She’s not gone forever, but it just seems like…if I need her to talk to, or to listen to me, she can’t just call me up, or hop on a bus anymore. Sure, there’s MSN and email, but with my older sister…I dunno, it just doesn’t “work” the same unless she’s right there, in front of you, or right there, on the other end of the line so you can hear her breathing.

Maybe it’s ‘cause we’re only two year apart. I dunno. Maybe it’s the fact that I won’t physically see her again until Christmas combined with the stress of school starting again. I don’t know.
I’m just…I’m crying again! God!

Remember when I said I was only half right? Mom wasn’t the one who cried all day.

JIt’s not that I don’t care about my little sister, I do. I really do. It’s just…I don’t know.
It just feels like she’s gone forever and it hurts so much.

So, ya. That’s the end of my silly-emo-ramblings. Sorry about all that.