It's been almost three months and I still find it hard to believe that she's been gone. She's been by my side since birth, only gone when she's out of the city, country or continent for bird stuff, now gone as in gone. Things have pretty much settled to as close to back to normal as possible, but while I hide my pain well, I still have those nights where the misery, self-loathing and boundless envy overwhelm me.
Honestly, sometimes I feel like I got the short end of the stick when it came to experiencing her, but little brothers don't always have the smoothest relationships with their big sisters. Plus, I had depression, she believed in tough love, and my parents just plain did not understand. Looking at you people's reactions, it seems like you've all had better relationships with her than my own, even if complaining about wiki stuff was as common a dinner conversation topic as my mom talking about my hair and me suddenly getting silent. But she was there when I needed her most, until one very unfortunate Sunday. I remember it perfectly. I was bored out of my skull, watching Markiplier play Yandere Simulator because I had nothing else to do, when suddenly I heard my mom say "David, come down here!"
The last time I saw her was her waiting for me to be done using the bathroom the night before. The last conversation we had was about how I should have listened to the soundtrack of The Muppets more often, and I can't even remember what she said. Even then, I felt that we were drifting apart, she was renting movies for when she had to get knots out of bird nets while I was sleeping, and by the time I figured "Let's watch Mad Max," they were returned.
I know this is kinda disjointed, but finally putting these thoughts to words kinda makes me rambley. I just miss her so much. I always assumed she was going to live to see me get my act together, to be my Japanese interpreter if I ever meet important people from Japan, to celebrate my 90th birthday because my family has longevity genes. But that's not how this timeline ended up.
Nine words have been helping me through this. "Keep moving forward, laugh away the pain, multiverse theory." Infinite universes means there's countless universes where she's still around, and we're all just trapped on this unfortunate patch of infinity. And as much as I would want to swap places with a Pantaro who still has a sister, I just can't shove that Pantaro into a world where he is an only child. We all have to bear this pain so the countless other versions of us throughout the multiverse don't have to, and hope that one of us turns into Rick Sanchez and forms their own League of Ricks. Or League of Davids in my case. Either way, among the league, I'll be one of the ones saying "Wubba Lubba Dub Dub" sincerely.
It's a good thing she managed to catch all of Season 1 of Rick and Morty, and that the many hers of the multiverse got Season 2. Maybe there's some hers who got Season 3 because those universes have smaller between-season hiatuses. It's a big multiverse.
Walkazo was a candle that burned four times as bright and a quarter as long, and we all should have appreciated that light while it lasted, because without it, our worlds got a lot darker, and I realized just how dim my flame really was. I'll spare you from most of the self-loathing, but I'm 99% sure that the only areas I was better than her at was penmanship, making OCs, and watching non-Japanese cartoons. I still need to get my act together, and hopefully the otherdimensional mes who follow the same path with her by their side will make her proud.
I miss her. I miss having someone to bounce ideas off of, I miss having someone to talk Steven Universe with, I miss having someone offline within my age group that I don't have to work up the courage to make a phone call to, but most of all, I miss those rare bonding moments that I'll never have again. At least we still meet in those lucky dreams where my persona remains oblivious to what has happened.
Those lucky countless sister-having me's in the multiverse don't know how lucky they are, and I envy them for it.