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You know that person who you call to tell everything? That person that you know that you’re going to call when you get married. That one person that you know that will always have your back no matter the ups and downs of life. No matter how much of an ass you are. I’m lucky to have had that person my entire life. I’ve always thought that I was someone who loves easily and loudly so I love harder. But I’m wrong. I’m so wrong I could hit myself. My sister loves harder than I’ve ever known. She might not be wrapping you up in the tightest hug known to man like me but she shows it. And she shows it to me more than anyone. On her birthday, she’d always open my gift first. On my birthday, she’d always know what gift to give me. Every time we slept over in each other’s room, it would always be mine despite the mess around me, because I, for some reason, could not get comfortable in her room. I don't think I could ever love like her. But I’m lucky enough to be loved by her. To experience her love like no other will ever be able to. Because I am her sister. Her only one. Her little baby sister who thinks she grew up even though she most definitely didn't. I’m also the one that yells at her to get out of my room when I’m mad. I never realized how lucky I am until I watched a movie about losing a sister to cancer. I don’t think I would survive it. I don't think she would either. And if she does end up losing me, are all her memories of me going to be ones of me walking upstairs and staying in my room? I might not love the same as she does but god I should try. If not for me, for her. Because a sister like that deserves to have a much better sister than me.