We, us, she, me.

We were close once.

The age difference was not an issue for a short while. We had a relationship; we just don’t any more.

The two of us have never looked alike. People often mentioned how different we were not just physically; our personality could not be further apart.

She was an intellectual, quiet and gentle in nature. My mother oddly looked up to her when surely she should have really been her role model. She could talk to adults from a young age showing high levels of maturity as a child. Her school years were easy and she flew through exams, achieving high grades and scholarships everywhere she went. People liked her, adults admired her. I admired her. As an adult she grew in confidence and power. She and my mother formed a tight unit – unbreakable and robust, I could not get through it. I wanted to be included and be a part of her life. Her personality began to alter the older she got. She is a total stranger now. This is not what I ever wanted for us.

As for me, I want her in my life.

Of course I do.

Although I do not want criticisms or attacks. I do not want my character tarnished any more. I cannot cope with it. I endured it for years from all of them. We could have a relationship and find the love we once had for each other all those years ago. The two of us could unite once again and become a true family. She doesn’t have to do it alone.

Come back to me.

Sister.

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