Big sister,

I met you when I was in the seventh grade. 

Your hair was twisted so neatly into braids, your glasses sat calmly on your face.

When you opened your mouth your words would tell a story, each sentence rolling so smoothly off your lips.

You danced over wooden floors in knee-high neon socks and decorated boxers, not caring that all the other girls had their eyes glued to you.

You said "kids at my school think I'm too weird. I watch children's cartoons in between writing stanzas of poetry at night, they call me too smart and whisper that I'm the stupidest kid they know. I'm caught in between, and nobody loves the in between except when they're in between as well."

I guess I am in between as well.

In between is the most beautiful place, I think.

Your heart was bigger than earth itself and yes, people tried to shrink it, but don't flowers need rain to survive?

Big sister, in between is the most beautiful place.

 

Big sister,

It was a year before I saw you again.

Your hair fell loosely in a ponytail, resting softly on your back.

When you opened your mouth your words bounced off of your tongue, singing a different song within each syllable.

You ran over wooden floors wearing colorful ankle socks, patterned with content, and you didn't wear boxers, only screaming shorts, the other girls watching you out of the corner of their eyes.

You said "kids at my school tell me I'm a good actress. I smile at them in between running scene after scene after school, they call me funny and whisper that I'm also kinda pretty. I'm getting to know more people in a good way, that has to be a good thing."

I guess it was a good thing.

Everything has good things, I think.

Your heart skipped over a beat here and there because something else caught your attention, but I guess sometimes it helps to lose yourself.

Big sister, everything has good things.

 

Big sister, 

I couldn't count how long it was until the next time I saw you.

Your hair was cut now, it was too short to be twisted or tied back, you switched out your familiar glasses for contacts that hide in your eyes.

When you opened your mouth your words tumbled over your teeth, sparking fire for a second before they turned to smoke.

You walked over wooden floors with feet that were covered in white cotton socks, your black leggings looked blank against your formerly glowing skin.

You said "kids at my school are always texting me now. I laugh with one guy in between making out with another in the hallways, girls call me gorgeous and whisper that everybody wants to date me. I have friends, isn't that so wonderful?"

You had friends before.

Now all you have is people, and messages, and blank sheets of paper, and kisses that taste like another girl's lipstick.

Big sister, you had friends before.

 

Big sister,

Yesterday I heard you won a poetry contest.

There was a picture under your name, a girl whose hair was tightly twisted and whose glasses framed her face oh-so-perfectly.

She wore knee high socks and a dress that sang with exuberance,

And a face that said "I don't care that all the other girl's eyes are glued to me".

I recognized that girl the second I saw her.

Big sister, I once again recognized you.

I guess you found yourself in between downing drinks on Saturday nights just to forget about the girls who call you bitch and say that you only got with him so that you could get into his pants. I guess you found yourself in the in between.

I am in between as well.

In between is the most beautiful place, I think.

Your heart is bigger than earth itself and yes, people may try to shrink it, but don't flowers need rain to survive?

Big sister, in between is the most beautiful place.