The Land Split by Sea

England

 She said she didn't like the city, that the busy streets and rows of skyscrapers always seemed to taunt her, mock her.

She said the city reminded her that she was only one person, one small, insignificant being, never to leave a mark or make a change.

She hated the city in a way I would never understand. But I respected her opinion. I did not fight her when she said she would be moving away, leaving the noisy streets of New York City behind.

She found a small cottage in England that she fell in love with. It would be perfect for her, she said. But not for me. I disliked living in the country, the middle of nowhere. It made me feel isolated from the rest of the world, like I was alone. So I opted to stay in America, and dropped her off at the airport when the time came, waving her off to her new home.

It wasn't until then, standing in the JFK international airport, that I realized I would have to go on living without my sister, my rock, for the first time in twenty four years.

And so, five months later, I found myself standing outside of the little house with the blue door in Rye, England, suitcase sitting beside me on the gravel.

I had let my sister, Evangeline, know I was coming, but the look on her face when I arrived at her door that day told me she hadn't believed a word I said.

She was dressed simply in jeans and a knit sweater, grinning from ear to ear as she embraced me. I let my cheek rest on her shoulder. The soft material of her sweater tickled my nose but it smelled like her. It smelled like home.

"Mitchy," she breathed, holding me closer, tighter. I had not known how much I missed her during those five months until her arms were back around me.

We stood in her doorway until the cold air became too much, forcing us to separate and gravitate towards the warmth of her living room. She had practically dragged me to the couch, plopping down and handing me a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream on the top, my favorite.

"How long are you staying?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. I shrugged, setting the half empty mug onto the coffee table and cuddling further into the plush fur blanket.

"I'm not sure," I spoke quietly, "I was thinking maybe two or three weeks?" Or more? Two weeks seemed too short for me, it had been almost half a year since I last saw my sister, I needed time.

The reaction I got from her was nothing less than expected, a sigh of defeat and disappointment.

Evan looked at me then, loneliness showing evidently in her blue eyes, "You don't want to stay longer? I only just got you back!"

I felt guilty. From her perspective it probably looked like I didn't want to spend too much time with her, that the five months apart didn't affect me as much as it did her, because it most certainly did. When she left I was alone, save for my parents who still lived back in Texas. But unlike my parents, who felt it necessary I move out after college, Evan had always been by my side, always there when I needed her, giving advice and holding me like a mother would. She was the one solid thing in my life, and then she was gone. And I felt betrayed.

But that didn't mean I resented her.

"I don't know if I can ask for more time off from work, you know how tight they are with my schedule, and I'm not exactly unimportant there." I spoke, choosing my words carefully.

I worked at a record label based in New York City as one of the main producers, it was my job to oversee and manage the sound recording and production of an artist's music. The job itself wasn't what I wanted to spend my life doing, but it paid well and created a name for me. I wanted to make music, my own music, not someone else's, but getting "noticed" wasn't as easy as some celebrities made it seem. You couldn't just have a good voice, you needed the whole package, the voice, the brain, the body. I didn't think I had that.