On one hand, I believe that they are family because we were raised together. I love them deeply from the bottom of my heart. They are really all I know in regards to siblings.
We ate together, we celebrated birthdays together, we even shared a room together, catching each other’s dreams between REM cycle and wake.
When my incontinence was bad, I used to sneak into bed with my sister who is younger than me, and she would share her blankets with me. I don’t know if she will ever know how much that meant to me. Or how much it means to me now. I feel we had a bond.
I used to teach the other two just about life since I was the “older” one. They looked up to me. And then things changed.
We grew up.
We created our own memories, or blocked out things that were…
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