Three long hours away

This+image+was+taken+in+2009+when+my+sister%2C+Elana%2C+was+three+and+I+was+one+year+old.

Emery Bishop

This image was taken in 2009 when my sister, Elana, was three and I was one year old.

Emery Bishop, Staff Writer

A built-in best friend: one where you have been given a unique opportunity to create closeness with someone already in your world. The second I was welcomed to the world I had already gained my built-in best friend, but what they don’t tell you is that it changes after 18 years.

5,835 days of living within the same walls, constantly being in each other’s presence, sticking our ears in the vents to listen to conversations and spying on the other when one has a boy over, after 191 months and three weeks it will change to a three-hour drive.

It started off as you sneaking into my crib at night to name our stuffed animals; Clyde was my favorite one. 13 years later and it’s fighting over a stolen sweatshirt from the other’s closet. But even after all of the arguments we’ve had, both of us are stubborn and never want to admit we’re wrong, there have been times when you were the only person I wanted to talk to. 

There was one memory in particular where I was hurt by a situation that affected my view on self-worth. Being two years younger, some older sisters would yell at them to get out, but you made an effort to listen to every word that came out of my mouth. This altered my perspective on not only being sisters, but having someone to rely on during the hardest of times. 

Despite the fact that neither of us ever had the choice to grow up with one another, I wouldn’t want it any other way. Pretending to be a zombie late at night in our twin beds to the point where you would start crying, our late-night drives blasting Big Sean and our McDonald’s runs when one of us is having boy problems are a few of the many moments that make us sisters. 

This Sunday you will be walking the stage at graduation in your cap and gown while they announce, “Elana Bishop.” I’ve always made fun of others for crying in situations like this, but the second reality hits me, grab a box of Kleenexes. Although I have already brought up the talk about getting your room once you move out, I would let you wear anything in my closet if it meant we could relive our childhood moments together.

We stopped receiving the twin comments and that’s how I knew we’ve grown up. Our sleepover nights watching “10 Things I Hate About You,” may have to pause for some time I make the three-hour drive to Northern, but that’ll never affect the title of being named sisters. As much as I am overwhelmed with the sadness of seeing you go, I am a proud sister of everything you have accomplished, striving through the struggles and never giving up.

To my older sister, role model and best friend in one, you inspire me every day to be a little more like you. You will always make the three-hour drive worth it.