for the last 22 (i wanna savor the last month i am able to say this) years i have been a lot of things - an enumeration of which would make this post way more convoluted than it actually is.
but there's one thing i haven't been: a big sister.
when i got home tonight and took out something in my bag, i caused my pack of ciggies to accidentally fall out and i looked up to see the utter disappointment in my sister's face and as always when i get this look, i felt 2-inches tall.
see, i had promised my family i'd quit after my operation and i sincerely tried. but obviously, miserably failed as well.
no news there. i am the worst model of behavior there is. and as if constantly struggling to obey my parents is not hard enough, all my mistakes also resonate to my sisters. i've got three people looking up to me on what to do and what not to. in every thing i do, it's always at the back of my mind to worry if they might do it too: my dysfunctions are almost theirs to inherit, which is why i have to be in a different zip code.
well, in my own warped way, i AM serving as an example, i am showing them what NOT to do.
so far, it's working. my sisters are waaaaaaaaaaaay more mature, more responsible and on whole, less dysfunctional than me, if at all. and no one is prouder of that than i am. even if, i am completely aware that i have nothing to do with this.
or i might. either way, i cannot take credit.
and i have accepted this.
but on some days, i wish i could be a big sister to them, to have more than just the age gap as a reason for them calling me 'ate'.
yet as always, when the choice is between who i am and who i should be (the two never being one and the same), i am loath to pick the latter.
some big sister i am.