She is tall, tan and beautiful; the total opposite of my small frame, pale skin, and sulky glare. Her dark hair curls beautifully down her back, while my lighter locks droop over my shoulders. She sits in the front seat, chatting happily with my mother about her plans, her boyfriend, and how fun things are going to be now that she’s in college.

Going to be. Going to be in college, I think bitterly, as I cross my arms and stare out the window, occasionally glaring at the back of the seat when she laughs at something stupid.

How I have loved, hated, and envied my sister. She is older, apparently wiser, and has ruled over me my whole life. We used to play together as children, arguing over crayons and which color was prettier. Her choice was violet, mine a tickle-me-pink. Years after the long-gone baby fat, awkwardness, and trying to fit in was over, we saw each other for what we really were - rivals.

We battled for attention: Her sparkling white teeth and beauty dazzled everyone, while I used humor and a quirky smile to call subtle attention to myself. She craved the color pink, and Disney Princesses became the theme of her room, as black became my signature color. Our fights shook the house, causing neighbors to question what went on in our family. We could put each other down in seconds and immediately regret it, trying to make it up to the other.

There were so many times when I felt as though I was the biggest inconvenience in her life, and if I weren’t there, she would be happier. There were many good times and so many regrets I would have changed in an instant. Oh, how I’ve loved, hated, and envied my sister.

“It’s going to be really different now that your sister’s going off to college, huh?” Mom asks from the front seat.

I realize we’ve arrived at her college, and everyone is getting out. I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out. I stand awkwardly beside my parents as they hug my sister and other soon-to-be college freshmen swarm around us.

My sister smiles at me and hugs me, catching me offguard. She squeezes me and says, “Bye. Love you.” It’s something she’s said to me almost every day for the past 16 years, but today it means something more. I smile and hug her back for a moment before she pulls away. It’s always been like that. She’s needed me her whole life and she knew it. She held on to my hand before I even reached out. Now she’s finally letting go and I want to keep her beside me. The person whom I have envied, hated, and above all loved, my sister.