You know who you are.

Bon voyage, mon ami.

Don't be sad. This is not goodbye.

This is you finally spreading your wings and flying. Starting on a new chapter after what felt like the longest foreword ever written. That first step, finally moving after so long a standstill.

This is not goodbye. You are not leaving. Leaving is actually an impossible thing to do. A part of you will stay behind and attach itself to everything and everyone you have made contact with. You will always be here, in the form of memories and thoughts. You will never really be gone.

And I will go with you. Maybe not physically accompany you, but I will be there. As you narrate the passages from that new chapter in your personal chronicle to me over the phone or through the social network--the challenges of job-hunting, the flak you are bound to get for making this decision, or maybe even complaining about how nitpicky your new boss can be, not unlike mine--I will be there.

You will lament the absence of a support system, which is another way of describing me--but take a second and think again. Every time I threaten to violate you with a fish scaler, or nod in agreement to just how crazy our society is, even if it's just in cyberspace, that's me being there with you. With you and for you. The means of communication may change, but we'll stick together all the same.

There is always Skype anyway. Feel free to look for me.

I'm grateful every day for having known you. That afternoon at the beach, with that horse we thought was tied to a tree, and the freaking out that followed when it went for the apples on the table...still the most memorable bro-bonding time to date. It'll take something of epic proportions to convince me to think otherwise. 

One thing has changed, though. The hilarity of that totally-random instant when someone suddenly asked 'Donde esta la biblioteca?' has officially trumped my attempt at imitating that Australian university rep from KDU. I suppose I have the Sauvignon Blanc to thank for my spot-on Ozzie accent.

So here's to hoping life would be kind to you, and to me too. In an alternate universe, you and I would be rearing cattle in New Zealand--then planning our umpteenth trip to the Canadian Rockies during our free time. Sadly enough for us, we exist in a different universe, and beggars can't be choosers.

Godspeed, my friend. I shall find an excuse to go and visit you in the future. In the meantime, I'll just fill this void you left by practicing the NZ national anthem...in Maori.

Lots and lots of love,

Your sister from a different set of parents.