Her name is Michelle. She’s my sister. My only sibling. She’s younger.

    We used to watch TV together. Her in her apartment. Me in mine. Each on the phone. It felt like there was no distance between us.

    We used to talk everyday and three or four times on the weekend.

    We used to have girls weekends.

    We used to go to Great America every year. After a few rides, we’d admit that we don’t like rollercoasters that much and go out to eat.

    We used to be shopping partners. Her opinions always mattered.

    We used to never have akward silences.

    We used to know everything about each other.

    We used to. Now we don’t. My heart longs for our “used to’s.”

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