sis

i miss having a sister.

not that i had one.

when i was growing up, just me and my older brother, i did wish for a little sister. someone for me to boss around, or at the very least, to follow me around like a little devoted puppy (haha). i had an inborn need to guide and teach, and so i unleashed it all on my cousin sister, willing or reluctant partner that she was. it was rather boring, just me and myself, but i had plenty to keep me amused and i rather enjoyed my own company.

in my teens, i made friends fairly easily and had many close friends that replaced the need of having a sister. i didn't miss having another person to argue about ownerships or hearing the nags of mother to share. my brother and i were so different that we mostly kept to ourselves during those period of raging hormones and puberty.

later, in my 20s, the absence of a sister figure still didn't mean much as i was too busy with my life, too sure of my ownself for the need of any validation from others. what with adjusting to life with another person and childbirth, i had more than my hands full most of the time.

only in my 30s am i missing my imaginary sister the most. someone that i can talk to and pour my heart out. someone who would understand without the need for me to justify the reasons for my feelings. someone who will always stand on my side, against everybody else. someone who will understand what i am going through and empathise. someone who will hurt when i am hurting. someone who will stand up for me. someone who will love me because i am me. someone who will tell me the hard truth simply because it is the truth. someone i can tell everything in the world to and will understand. someone that i can rant and rave to without coming under the criticism of the public eye.

when i was growing up, i never could bond with anybody. parents were simply meant to be censoring tools to over-excessive enjoyment and provision of adequate needs. brother was never around even to be a source of annoyance. friends separated by a wall of geographical mobility....friends whom were often more interested in telling me their woes than listening to mine. when i was growing up, my diary replaced the role of a sister.

sometimes it feels like me against the whole world. one solitary figure standing against it all. whom do i rant to? who can i tell what's eating away at me? who can i bitch to? i don't want to be the nice person always. i don't want to be strong. i want to cry, i want to shout, i want to whine....but who understands?

perhaps i should start writing a diary again.