Godsista

Dear W,

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I thought about writing a long, handwritten letter to show you how much you mean to me, but then I realized, for the past 3 years, I have been writing my love letters here on my blog. You’re just as deserving of a public declaration of love as anyone, so here goes nothing.

Ever since we were children, I’ve sought your approval. Even though I was the older, I thought you were cooler and more in-tune with what I needed to succeed as a person society would embrace. You dared me to jump in the water, to scream out the worst curse words, to kiss the boys I wanted to. And even though that pushing sometimes took me over the edge (geeks-nerds-fewls, anyone?), it always and ultimately made me better.

There’s only one time in our lives we haven’t gone longer than two weeks talking, and even then–even with my horrible actions–you still showed me so much love. When we finally started talking again, the first words out of your mouth were not ones of resentment, but concern. You were down to love me in my worst moment, even if you needed a little time to process it.

Every other big moment of our lives has involved one another: family joys and strife, tween woes, teen romances, teen losses, college houses, relationships, marriages, break-ups, successes at work, failures all around, and monumental moments of achievement like this one.

You’ve finally reached the moment I ALWAYS knew you would: undergrad graduation. Others may have had their doubts, but I never had a moment’s hesitation. I watched you evolve from a girl who shirked responsibility (by choice) to a woman who didn’t give a single damn about who recognized the fact she had become an organized, clean, hard-working, academic, and amazing individual. Unlike me, you never sought and still never seek approval; you know how much you put in this degree, and need no one to tell you so to feel accomplished.

But I’m here anyway. I’m here to tell you that I DO approve. I always have. I have watched you sit in front of your computer, typing yet another research paper on Toni Morrison, still stressing about how to make it better; the best. I have watched your eyes glow with enthusiasm as you’ve spoken passionately about your classes, your professors, and your literary selections. I have watched you earn that LSAT score and scholarship to law school. I have watched you shoot down every hater simply by being exemplary.

I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to watch you walk across the May Dell and grab that degree that means so much to you. I can’t wait to cry, thinking about all you’ll become and all we have yet to experience together.

Thank you for being there when I lost everything, for taking me to prom, for taking me in when I got in to App, for being there in every sob-level crisis, for celebrating with me when I needed it, for understanding my need for space, for standing up for me when no one else will, for keeping life interesting, for always being honest–especially when it hurts, when nobody else has the balls–and thank you for being more than just a godsister. You are my friend and family forever.

I can’t wait for the rest of the milestones I’ll get to celebrate with you. I love you like CeCe loves Jess, like Leslie loves Ann (the beautiful, sophisticated, naive newborn baby).

I love you like XO, DJ RHONNNNDDAAAA!

-R

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