This is a picture of me and my cousin Abby. It was originally taken in 2012, but I found it yesterday. After looking at it, I realized how much we have changed over the years. I also realized how she has always been there by my side, through all my ugly phases in life.

She is like a sister to me. Growing up, she was always by my side. Even though she’s my sister’s age, we were always closer. I actually think we’re closer than my sister and I. I believe that it’s not blood that makes family; it’s the relationship that you have with them that makes them family. Some might say that that’s a strange way to think, but I really don’t care.

Abby is the perfect example of that. She is my family. We went through so many things together. When we are down, we pick each other back up. I think that’s why I consider her my sister. Also, her parents were basically my parents even though they’re my aunt and uncle. Her dad was my favorite person in the entire world. He was such a goof ball. If someone was down in the dumps, he would do something incredibly stupid and funny to lift up their spirits. That’s what I loved about him. It will be two years since he died in October, and I still can’t physically talk about him or even go on the road that leads to the place where he died.