I have no sisters. And what I mean by that is simple. I am the oldest of three girls, but I do not have sisters. Have I confused you yet?
The middle sister hasn’t said or typed a word to me in months. A change which coincides with her getting back together with an ex-boyfriend. The same ex-boyfriend she used to call me and bad mouth, at the very least, on a weekly basis. She has also said that me being pregnant “is weird.” My theory is that she always thought she would be the miss Susie Homemaker of us three girls; the first to be married, have kids, the whole shebang. Only I beat her to both of those, purely by chance.
The littlest sister just started college, and I know I won’t be hearing from her for months. She might surface around Christmas time, like she has to some degree the past four years. Living life as the young, the blonde, the misguided. Seeking random hook ups and pursuing the sorority life.
I sometimes hear of siblings being as close as friends, but that definitely is not the case in my family. I had sisters growing up. We bickered and fought and suffocated each other. And now we’re all out in the world on our own. I bet you (I bet you so much) that I’m the only one of us three that realizes I don’t have sisters anymore.