The Missing Sister

by Elle Marr

I smile because you are my sister. I laugh because you can’t do anything about it.

Angela was born a mere two minutes before me, but she took with her the creativity of the womb, leaving me to steep in pragmatism.

Abstract art and the indefinable have always seemed like a waste of time to me. Give me reason. Give me finite.

The best way out is always through—one of Angela’s favorite quotes, and I don’t have a choice now.

To not seeking happiness in others’ opinions. To finding stability from within.”

“Je suis là, ma belle.” The poetic sound distracts me as he pulls me to his lips.

Siblings, for better or for worse, are the only people in the world with whom you share so many experiences, who outlast friends and lovers, who understand you because they witnessed your formative years firsthand.

Winston Churchill—if you’re going through hell, keep going.

don’t have enough bandwidth to care as much as I would like. Maybe that does make me callous.

I can take care of myself—it’s okay to. Setting healthy boundaries and expectations is okay.