Little Sister

sisters who talk, finally, years later. sisters who desperately want to apologize to the other, and just doesn’t know how. how does somebody apologize for torment, for making someones life harder, for making her life worse, just by being around.

sisters who open up. over weeks, about things the other would have no idea about, about things the other should have known. passions, friendships, past partners, work and issues and therapy and all the rest. sisters who laugh about it all, who cry for each other, who venture even to hug and hold and be there for the other.

sisters who can’t help but wonder just how much they still don’t know. does she still let dishes pile up in her room? does she still sing in the shower, or talk through movies? does she still get grumpy in the mornings? sisters who ache to ask. sisters who keep wondering. sisters who never let themselves wonder why they’re thinking about the other so much lately.

sisters who can’t ignore all the little things anymore. sisters who have committed the look of their lips to memory. who find themselves admiring the other, their hair or their eyes, who burn the image of curves and moles and peach fuzz into the back of their minds. sisters who, lately, see so much of the little girls they once were in eachother.

sisters who, one night, so far away from each other, both realize that it’s more than what they thought. sisters who feel this tug in their chest when they’re apart, who burn and ache and want, and can’t stand it anymore.

sisters who realize they’re fucked. so, so fucked. she would never. she’d hate me. it’d go back to being just like how it was before.

sisters who resolve to meet in cafes, restaurants, bars and gardens, to hold on to whatever they can until it falls apart.

I'm old enough to remember when every straight person was convinced, CONVINCED, that gay couples were into it for exclusively sexual reasons! Despite every second of the AIDS crisis displaying the lengths of love these couples would go for eachother, reactionary narratives maintained the majority. It wasn't until much later that the "love is love" narrative finally caught hold, and now...to say gay people are in it exclusively for sex is considered as backwards as can be.

And honestly, even if it is sexual for some, I don't see why that is deserving of disrespect. Sex is a normal part of life. What matters is if anyone is hurt, and in consang...nobody really is.