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Meet Nikka.

The other Pointy nose, pointy chin, blonde hair girl in those family pictures. She pretends to dislike Cheesecake except when she's with me. She loves watching me shop. She doesn't kick OR talk in her sleep. I'm worried about her because she is too much like me, but I know she will be great because she's enough of herself. She's not jealous, needy, or boring. She's mature enough to bring her around my friends, but immature enough to be loved by everyone. She thinks I'm crazy. She sleeps in.

The list of boyfriends who've loved her more than I is embarrassingly long. I should have been worried. Especially about that beautiful, tall man and every time we went shopping he would say, "We should get Nikka something". Leaving him was hard for both of us.

She makes me a better friend. She makes me think clearly. She makes everything okay. She makes the best crepes and peanut butter cookies. She gets sick of me telling her I miss her. She wears my clothes flawlessly. She appreciates leather and fine jewelry.

She let's me talk in the morning because she knows I have to. She forgives effortlessly. One time she told me I was pretty and I believed her. She makes fun of me kindly. She quotes my blog to me. The day she was born I got to skip school and we had Chicken Pot Pie for dinner. That was a good day.