Dear Aapi, 

The credits roll to “Frozen,” synchronized with the tears down my face. 

You make fun of me. I make light of it. “It’s just a really happy ending,” I say. 

But the tears don’t stop there. Now we’re watching “Little Women,” and at the five minute mark, the tissue box is empty. Don’t get me started on “Secret of the Wings” —  when Tinker Bell reunites her long-lost sister, I am in shambles. 

Growing up, we fought like sisters often do. You were mean; I was annoying. You wouldn’t include me, and I wore your clothes without asking. In truth, I admired you so much. I wanted to be just like you. This wore off as we got older, and in turn, you became my best friend. We became inseparable, and you were my closest confidant. 

Now, there are very few days where the thought of you doesn’t leave my heart feeling heavy. When you left home, a part of me left with you. And even though you eventually returned after a few weeks, it feels like part of you was left behind. You keep a part of yourself out of my reach.  

Most days, it feels like I’m mourning the living. We’re just a phone call apart, yet you feel light years away. Our conversations sometimes feel forced, and when we argue, my emotions are intensified ten times greater. After your mental health diagnosis, I tried to understand you leaving within the context of it, but the hurt still lingers.

This pain manifests in almost every aspect of my life. In relationships, I am clingy, insecure and anxious. I am overcompensating and confrontational to a fault — in an attempt to sort out issues before people leave — which can lead to me being a “suffocating” person to be around. I get overly emotional, I dread the month of November and, of course, Anna and Elsa make me burst into tears. 

But maybe the longing is greater than the hurt. I miss belting Shawn Mendes together in the car. I miss glancing at one another when our parents lecture us. I miss the smell of our shared bathroom after you shower with soap you would never let me use. 

I miss your smile. I miss you.

Despite everything, I am certain of this: I want you in my life. Maybe we’ll never be as close as we used to be, or maybe one day we’ll come together even closer, but I want to try. To try is to be human, as is to love, and I love you. I always will.

Maybe I’ll never be able to get through “Frozen” without crying, but maybe one day you will be there to comfort me.

With all my love,

Your sister Maryam