I can’t tell you how many times I heard this growing up – “When you get older you will be best friends.”
“Yeah right, seriously, give me a break,” was all I thought.
Years of hair-pulling and fighting over dolls and messing up my side of the room just to bug my sister led me to believe we would never ever in a million years be friends.
I used to hate sharing a room with my little sister, much less the same house. And when I graduated high school and moved out to the dorms at my former school, I was elated.
I never had to share a room with my sister again. I could organize my desk without her telling me how to do it or where I should put things. I didn’t have to listen to her music anymore or wait until she got off the phone so I could call my friends.
After sharing a room with her for 16 years, I was ready for my own space.
But then things started to change. Margo was all grown up and headed off to school on the East Coast. “That’s great,” I thought. “I’m happy for her.”
I really was happy for her, but then it sank in that I would only see her at Christmas and maybe in the summer.
That was when I really started to miss her loud music and the way she used to reorganize things for me, and even the way she used to really irritate me.
I don’t know if it’s just a sister thing or a sibling thing, but there is no one else in the world who can get under my skin in 10 seconds flat and who I love so much at the same time.
We used to drive each other crazy and have the silliest arguments.
My favorite was when she made me so mad I flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes at her and it hit the wall. She started laughing so hard I forgot I was mad. I think my mom was about ready to pull her hair out.
Now I don’t remember all the bad arguments and fights as much as the good times.
Like how we used to stick up for each other so we wouldn’t get in trouble.
And how we used to laugh over the dumbest jokes.
I remember the forts we used to build in the living room, the races we used to have on our bikes and all the adventures we used to have in the mud in the backyard.
Mud pies and mud puddles are the best.
Margo is my best friend. She still gets on my nerves, but I have learned to really appreciate her.
Over the past three years Margo has been on the East Coast or in Europe most of the time. She is quite the world traveler.
Last year she decided to take Italian and so she traveled to Italy earlier this year to better learn the language.
She has been in Italy since January with a study-abroad program and won’t be back in the States until the end of the summer, which means we probably won’t get to see each other until Christmas.
And next year we will both be graduating and who knows where we will each end up.
I hope we get to see each other sometime this year.
I really miss her.
But if we don’t, the one thing I know for sure is that I will always have my sister and my best friend. Even if we are thousands of miles apart.
Susan Acker, a senior journalism major, is Web editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.