She doesn't have many friends but she's okay with it. She always thought she needed somebody to fill the blank space in her life, wanted somebody's fingers to perfectly intwine with her's.
She looked  everywhere  for him but couldn't  find him, what is the definition of the ideal man for her ? Well she herself doesn't know.
Being an aesthete has made her realise  that the moon and the nature are her only companions. No matter how good or bad things are  they will always listen to her and the glistening light of the moon  somehow calms the thunderstorm of her  heart. The moon made her realise that the happiness that she's trying to look for is already there all she has to do is love herself a little more and he also made her realise that it's not necessary for a man to hold her hand and make her realise her worth sometimes holding on to somebody can suffocate you.
When she cannot find and love herself, nature caresses her in unexpressible ways like the wind  kisses and holds her hand whenever she's  in turmoil, the grass let's her  breathe the freshness of life whenever she walks barefoot on it,  she forgets about all her worries for a little while when she hugs a tree and the tree makes her feel loved by shedding a few leaves on her arrival , the way the waves touch her feet makes her realise  that it's not that hard to let go of things that have held her back, chained her thoughts with fear and regret.

Now she is happy with everything that she has and this has made her fall freely in her own arms.

Initially I never liked her because she was mischevious in her own ways, ready to unravel the secrets that she knew about, so I thought it was better if I maintained some distance from her because my secrets didn't feel safe around her. As I grew a little older and I got to know her a little better I understood that my secrets were always safe, embedded  deep inside the ocean of her heart. We spent some time together and got to know that I can never dance better on any other tune except hers. Riding the bicycle together and calling for each other before we lost control, laughing when one of us fell down. Being there whenever I cried a river, making me see the brighter side by clearing my blurry vision. A part of me is in her and a part of her is now a part of me. I spend most of my time with her and she's aware of everything I do. I know that I annoy her and I also know that no matter how much I get on her nerves she's always going to welcome me with open arms. We hardly have a picture of us together because she hates getting clicked so I have learnt to collect all the moments in the camera memories  that's in my head and  play it whenever I talk to my lover at night. There is no one who can love me better not even my lover. After all a sisters love is unconditional and better than all the other definition of "love".