And here’s to my sister. You’re still on version 1.0 in my heart, and you’re still, unequivocally, PS: If you have a sister, call her. Don’t text. Don’t send a voice note. Call her and say, “When is our v2025 month?” If she says “What are you talking about,” just send her this article. She’ll get it.
You just need one person who will sit on the floor with you at midnight, drink the last oat milk, fight about the thermostat, and still call you “ya best” when you walk out the door. spending a month with my sister v202501 ya best
But here is the truth I learned after 31 days with my sister: And here’s to my sister
We talked until 2 AM. About money. About fear. About whether we are proud of who we are. We didn’t solve anything. But we didn’t need to. We just needed a witness. Don’t send a voice note
She picked me up from the airport holding a sign that said “Welcome to Chaos, v2025.” We laughed. We hugged for too long. We immediately went to Target and spent $80 on snacks we didn’t need. This is the dangerous part of sister time—the delusion that you are still the same two teenagers who could stay up until 3 AM watching The OC on a school night.