My Other Half


I believe she is the greatest Grace of God thus far, sharing the same last name congenitally. The word ‘sister’ and ‘best friend’ is never enough to define her. No matter how obnoxious or pulchritudinous our lives can be, she always stand by my side; my partner in crime.

I feel ashamed for being such a failure as her older sister in these recent times, disenchanting that I am dependent on her back. Both painful and beautiful memories we share are still vivid, too vivid where I scarcely share it with someone else. Having her as my roommate, until the day I graduated high school, even though we both have our rooms may have described a bit the bond we share. She is the reason why I smile, I grin, I laugh, showing my white teeth to the world.

She was the only one who was there when our biological father was uncontrollably in rage, ended up hurting me both inside and outside. She was genuinely willing to bear my pain, partially. She was the only one that mold every drop of my tears when such prevaricator pestered my peaceful life, patching and healing every tiniest bit of holes and wounds in my heart.

She is always there for me within any seasons, until this second. I cannot help thinking how could I (mentally) be without her back, whereas I am the one who is supposed to do such things.

Years ago, people did despise her on account of exaggerating prestigious school matters, unstoppably comparing and judging the intelligence we possessed. Which perhaps have answered why I hate those people. Amidst all such matter reoccurred, her affection toward me never fade the tiniest bit.

I cannot help but condemning myself doing nothing comparable for her sake.

Supposedly I am writing this excerpt as a small unredeemable birthday gift on last December, pardon me for my tardiness. Thereby I dedicate this excerpt specially for you, my other half, because I love you.


Pondering about T.I.


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