Unlike most girls I never tend to cry. Never did, never will. I grew up jealous of how much my sister seemed to cry. Salty waterfalls always seemed to be pouring from her eyes, with everyone's attention on her, pushing me to the side. Over friendships, even a guy. Perhaps I was just too different to mourn over silliness like hers. Though she is two years older than me, she had much more to cry about than doing math work at the dinner table with dad. And that mathwork I once cried over is seemingly predictable compared to the hopeless equations thrown at my face in High School. 

Starting this new chapter in the same shoes my sister once did, my life is following beside her footsteps. Remembrance of her reappearing cries from her freshman year. Friendships crumbled within moments, her whole existence replaced as I peered through a crack in her door, she still isn't the same. I made a promise that day that I wouldn’t let myself end up the same way. Her footsteps were far too small, I stood beside her, hoping she would catch me if freshman year caused me to fall. Predictably my fall started off hesitant, First: getting broken up with a couple days into summer, multiple lost friendships due to disagreements, and the thought of going into a new school, with new people, new teachers and possibly no friends. That’s what consisted in my summer of poetic torture. The safe haven of my own room unexpectedly transformed, High school was not the dream that I saw pictured in the movies. Realistically, it was a toxic pit of relationships pinned against boys and girls, teachers who just don’t understand, feeling like a failure on a team where everyone blamed me and the endless rumors that spread massively. 

As the grass went dark, autumn faded, school progressed with frequent piles of homework and soon, Freshman year became the words I hated. Every day a repeat of the next. Pushing people away; digging into an endless hole. Moping around school became my new normal, and still I managed to keep my thoughts subtle enough where no one questioned my new way of existence. A few months passed of my odd behavior, and my mask of emotions started to peel away, My sister started to notice. I used to go to Bria for everything. Boys, Friendships, to tell a joke, pushing her buttons because when she gets mad her cheeks create a purple film on top of her usual natural flush. And yes, like all sisters there's things we don’t agree on, one of those is the statement of me living in her shadow. I have always struggled being second best, but somehow we would always find a way to look past this. With the exception of our unwritten rule. You can never look past this. Tana doesn’t cry. If I cry our communications shifts, I would never cry infront of her, Exposing myself in that way felt inhuman. The sort of thing only a crazy person would do, but at the same time the only thing I wished to do as this endless mocking rang in my ears for months on end was to have the comfort of my sister.

 I pondered about if I could tell her all I have been though. The details no one had known. The words engraved in my brain from ex lovers and friends. I knew she would understand, yet again, It's a well known fact, the youngest always gets the short end. “You're too young to understand,” “It's part of growing up.”  I couldn’t help but choke on everyone else's words. I had hoped Bria would believe me, but how could I be sure? A month of procrastination and bottled up fear. I caved; crying waterfalls of tears into her pillow as she comforted me. Validating my woes, finally letting it all go. Freshman year gave me a reason to cry, truly for my first time. Though It had taken blood, sweat, and Tears, happily I say, I am almost done with my freshman year.