That Sinking Marshmallow Feeling

The sun was setting as I poured the hot water and mixed the brown powder into it. Hot chocolate emerged from the swirling chaos. I absent mindedly dumped a package of tiny marshmallows on top. The floated with glee, while I watched in despair.

It seemed like so long ago that I had been with her. That I had chosen her as the one that I loved. But it seemed like just yesterday, too. She was perfect for me in every way that I could think of: smart, funny, terribly awkward and odd, endearing, thoughtful, and trustworthy. She seemed to wear a badge when I saw her that screamed ‘I’m yours!’

Even though she wasn’t.

She has been dating him for over a year now. The other guy. The one that is so perfect for her that it hurts me inside every time I think about it. Because he’s more talented and funny and clever than me. And more perfect for her than I can ever dream of being.

She gives him hugs and kisses and holds his hand. Silly and small things, perhaps, but he also holds her heart. What I wouldn’t give to be him. What I wouldn’t give to have her. What I wouldn’t give to just be a little cleverer, a little better. A little more perfect for her.

The sun had gone down. My marshmallows were a creamy layer atop a pond of chocolate, slowly sinking below into the dark liquid. They didn’t look so gleeful anymore.

The water rose over my eyelids, and rolled down my face.

All You Need Is "Love"

I honestly and fully believe that all you need to survive in life is love. But unlike my younger sister, I know that there are more than one type of love to feel.

My sister came home with her new love interest for Thanksgiving. She doesn't call him her boyfriend, just 'a special friend', which is stupid because they make out and hold hands. She only met him 3 months ago, and already they are supposedly 'life partners'. This wouldn't bother me except for the fact that this is her 8th love interest in 2 years.

She is moving too fast, and forgetting that to figure out who you really are, you have to spend some time alone sometimes. It's so important, and a lesson that I am so thankful to have learned early on in my life.

So my little sister, who now goes barefoot, doesn't shower, wears the same pair of clothes every day, and smokes because of this new man, came home for Thanksgiving. But it wasn't to see her family - that's too much to ask! She refused to sleep at the house, repeatedly saying that she has a new family... AKA her friends. I suppose they're more important now than even a breezy conversation with her mother, father, or younger brother.

Or even me.

My sister and I used to be best friends. This guy is changing her and breaking my heart.

There are many different ways to love. It's too bad my sister has forgotten all but one, and it's the one that hurts the most people the fastest. It's like a race for her to cut down as many trees in the forest as possible in as short a time as possible, all while waving the chainsaw gleefully in the air and shouting to anyone who will listen that she's proud of it.