Dread

Sometimes I wish I could be the person my sister needs the most but I know that I can't be that person.  I want to be more "Asian," but what does that even mean?  I want my eyes to be small and not so wide.  I want my skin to be flawless and pale, my lips small and pink.  I used to stand in the shower and scrub at my skin with whitening soaps from Cambodia.  My mom would make me slather on creams that smelled like vinegar.  I wanted to bleach the brownness out of me.  Sometimes I still want to.  I find myself scrubbing at my face too hard, trying to erase the bits of me that I don't identify with being "Asian."
I think the hardest thing for me is not knowing where I fit in.  My sister has her place among old memories of punk bands, livejournal, and now zines and cats.  My cousins have their place.  I always feel like I'm stuck in between everything.  Have I half-assed all of my personality?  Have I spent so much time trying to fit in with either my sister or my cousins that I missed out on the opportunities to fit into my own nook?  I probably spent too much time in the shower, hot water pouring, scrubbing at my legs.  Willing them to turn white.  "How can I be Asian if my hair is so curly?  If my skin is so brown?  If no one believes me when I correct them?"
I want to be beautiful and understanding.  But I am stubborn and brown.  A muddy brown.  A brown that I sometimes hate so much, but most of the time I never notice.  I've learned to be angry.  Angry at everything. Freckles, straight hair, and thin lips.
I wonder how I have survived for so long.
My sister's boyfriend loves her so, and I wonder if I'll ever find someone that will understand me the way he understands her.  They fit so well together, and I pray with every last bit of me that sorta believes somethings happen because someone else says so that they will stay together forever.  I want to believe that love is real, and I want so much for my sister to experience real love.  I want someone to love her because I cannot.  Not with the resentment I have, or the stubbornness I associate with her.  I cannot love her the way someone unrelated by DNA and blood can.  I want for her an eternity of happiness.  I would much rather suffer and lose everything I have if it means that she'll finally be happy.  Anxiety-free.  No more tears.  No more fear.  Just ice cream and crooked teeth.