Thursday, September 24, 2009

a new way to say goodbye.

do you remember your first day of college? mine was three thousand miles from comfortable. i cried for hours after my mother left me. sitting on the swing set on sarah lawrence campus, i kicked my toes into the dirt and rubbed my nose raw with my sleeve. that night i had dreams of my parents burning in a falling plane. and the next week i wrote letters. "i don't think this whole college thing is going to work out." the following month, i never wanted to leave.

today, my sister left for college. she sobbed when she got in the car. guttural chokes, red cheeks, orange colored rings around her eyes from pressing hard, trying to hold the tears in.

darling, darling, don't you know i would trade places with you in a second if i could? i would, i would, i swear, give anything to be going where you are going.



i will write you letters, i will come for football games.

i am not the best big sister, but i am trying.

Friday, September 18, 2009

au revoir.

this girl pours water for you. quenches my thirst with her arms. and when she leaves, my mouth becomes dry. this girl holds your hand at the right time, always, and when i say hand, i really mean heart. this girl will hold your feet, too, if that makes you feel better. this girl who cartwheels around me months after a back surgery that i never once saw her cry over. this girl is a giver but will take my tears and take my hugs and take my sighs and my pleas. my pleas that say please please don't go. don't leave me for france. don't leave me for the unfamiliar and the exciting. can't you just stay under the covers of my mother's comforter for a little longer.