To Lose a Soul, To Lose a Sister
I remember, what it felt like. To have a soul. To have that life. But now, it seems, that a part of me is gone. My other half, my better half; it’s all gone. I still remember, what it felt like. To just talk for hours about everything and nothing all at the same time. We would laugh so hard, and so loud others would wonder what was so funny. And it was usually nothing. We were just having fun. But it was always something with us.
I remember, what it felt like. To have someone to share my deepest and darkest secrets with, so I would not have to feel so alone anymore. I no longer had to bear that burden. I could trust you with anything, and not be afraid of incurring any judgement or shame. I could be honest around you. So honest, I don’t think there was one single thing I kept from you. I could say whatever I felt, and I could be myself in all my entirety, warts and all.
I still remember, what it was like to listen to your stories. Give you advice when you wanted it, and advice when you didn’t. To really listen when you spoke and understand your meaning. To talk for hours on end about the people you liked and the ones you didn’t. To learn from you and be inspired by you. That was one of your greatest gifts of all.
I still remember, what it was like to have your back, unequivocally. To fight side by side, for our very own prides, but to have someone there who wouldn’t back down. To have someone that fought with a loyalty so fierce it could instill even the greatest respect in the smallest of minds.
And I still remember what it was like to have that innate connection and bond. To be the Thelma to your Louise and to have the Grace to my Frankie, standing back to back. You were my conscience, and my gab buddy. My supporter, and my rock. We were so opposite, so different, you and I, but so very much the same. We had the same core, the same truths. We looked out for one another, and we understood each other like nobody’s business. I remember all of that.
You were my soul sister. But I loved you as if you were one of my own flesh and blood. You meant the world to me, and now… you’re gone. I don’t know where to turn. I don’t know where to go. I lost my sister. I lost my soul. But even now, I am just so grateful for the time that we had. Those moments were precious, and ones I will not soon forget. So, I would like to thank you… for everything I know. Thank you for the memories and the time you let me go. Thank you for the best friend any girl could have ever hoped for. And thank you for the supporter every bookend would have wished for. And finally, thank you for just being you. Because wherever you are, wherever you may go, I wish you all the best down that unfamiliar road.
Athena Millet is a teen writer from the San Francisco Bay Area with a passion for creating and a streak for rebellion. She is the co-founder of The Oxford Comma, as well as the acting Editor-in-Chief. A free-spirited adventurer at heart, she has traveled extensively and continues to share her love of storytelling through her unabashed spunk and creativity.