My sister, myself

My sister, myself by Purpur: sentimental prose

I have a younger sister, yet I am an only child. She is much younger and has never, ever behaved like a sister to me. Of, course, I had been very jealous of her for some 20 years.Then, I simply stopped because, finally and painfully, I realised that my parents are going to favour her no matter what. I was powerless and could do nothing about it. So I had decided that I should do with the love I have in my family. Since then, I feel better, but there are still times and occasions which throw me back to feeling stupid, betrayed and angry. Angry at myself. 
Few years ago I realised that my sister thought that she was my parents’ pet because of her wonderful or exceptional personality. She expected the world to behave as if everybody should, if not love her, at least like her enough to do as she desires. I was stupefied. I was surprised and couldn’t believe that a mature person can entertain such ridiculous notions. Stupid me. When she got seriously sick, I was shocked; I even made some private wows of which I am not sure I can keep up. I cried for months. I didn’t want to lose her. I still don’t. She doesn’t like me, she is jealous of me (I cannot fathom why, but jealousy is not a rational feeling, they say), she is mean to me…………..We may not see each other or speak to each other, but I still love her. I am in a bind, in a place I do not like to be. Nothing is simple and love does not “overcome it all”.

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