I didn't tell you this, but I had a bit of a disturbing dream a couple of nights back, and I woke up borderline-terrified, and it was reassuring in the sense that I knew very well then what I've known all along: what I didn't want.
In a funny way, you have become my comfort zone. Go knocking at your door at 1am because I don't mind watching half an hour of anime or because I have to rant about what happened two minutes ago or I'm falling asleep reading Chinese philosophy because it's 1am. Thank you for being my comfort zone, for letting me barge in and take up all your time. Thanks for your trust, for telling me stuff, and for letting me tell you my hour-long stories that don't even really have a point. Thank you for the way you curl up with your pillow and explode in laughter over how Xun Zi sounds like he's writing a self-help book. I'm bored when you're not around, you chillax bro you, because I have to wait all of five minutes to tell you that I stepped on a beetle or that someone said something funny in class. By the way, there's bird shit on my window and some sort of insect shit on the ledge. i don't know what to do about it.
Thank you for letting me laugh at you. You're my big brother but I look at you and I see that lanky geeky brilliant hilarious kid. Thanks for showing me your insecurities, which I still cannot fathom, because everything I see in you is amazing. Thank you for letting me bare my own insecurities that I find so stupid and childish but that are safe with you.
Thanks for letting me be your little sister - giving me the right to be immature and say irrelevant things and be dumb and bug you every minute. For allowing me to laugh and squeal over you and say anything and tell you you're too cute and come into your room to sing you a michael jackson song.
I hope I creep you out less. B)