My sister left this week.
One of my sisters. I have a few.
This particular sister is nineteen. I’ve mentioned her before. She has been living with me for the last several months, but she is off now.
I drove her to the airport on Tuesday. We talked about boys the whole drive.
Okay, one boy.
Okay, Colin Firth, in the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.
In other words, we had a great time. After a two hour drive, I dropped her off and left her all alone. By herself. She flew to Austin, Texas, then to Iceland, and finally to Amsterdam, where she was picked up by the staff of the school she’s attending.
A lot of adventure for a nineteen year old.
In case you were wondering, yes, I’m a wreck. She’s been my best friend for a lot of years, besides being my roommate (cabin-mate?) for the last several months, and I’m going to miss her terribly. I’m not saying I cried in the car on the way home, but I cried in the car on the way home.
Just a little.
No one will sit by the fire with me in the evenings, no one will read everything I write and tell me if it’s good or not, no one will make me tea or eat all my cooking and pretend it’s amazing.
In short, I’m devastated.
But I’m very excited for her. She’ll be living in Amsterdam for three months, then transferring to an—as of yet—undisclosed location for the remainder of her school. Thanks to Skype and Facebook, I’ll be able to keep in touch with her, but she won’t really have much time to talk to me. Classes and new friends will take up most of her time.
I went to a similar school when I was nineteen, one located in West Kilbride, Scotland. I spent three months living in a castle on the beach (above), then another two months backpacking through Cambodia. It changed my life to see the sun set on the other side of the world, and I am so excited to see my sister go through the same experiences.
So, yes, I’m happy for her.
Just sad for me, because I have to live without her for a few months.