The door to my sister’s bedroom is precisely seven inches away from the door to my own. While her door remained closed most of the time, for the last 17 years of my life, I took comfort in knowing that, at any time, I could walk in, be it out of urgency or boredom, and talk to my sister. Now that she’s gone to college, the comfort of proximity only exists when she comes home for the holidays.

I have always been a Christmas fanatic, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You” blasts for the duration of my car rides to school daily starting Nov. 1 and buffalo plaid becomes a staple in my wardrobe. But this year, my excitement for the holiday season stems not from the little details, but from the fact that for three glorious weeks, my sister will live next door to me again.

My sister– whose name is Gabrielle, by the way– is in her freshman year at Michigan State University. Being only 20 months apart, we grew especially close over the years– she’s my built-in best friend, stand-in therapist and future Maid of Honor. And while these labels still and always will reign true, I can’t help but notice a change in the structure of our relationship these past few months.

I think the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is an overly optimistic lie. I miss my sister, do I have to find a bright side? The only true benefit I have noticed from her being gone is that I can actually get to school on time now that I’m the one driving (why are the younger sisters always the most responsible?).

Our relationship has been reduced to occasional Snapchats, texts and phone calls: a huge change to the car rides, late-night binge watches and petty arguments we used to have. The big difference is that we now both have to work to maintain a relationship that, up until this year, simply existed naturally. And… we suck at it.

My most recent conversation with my sister is as follows:

(in response to a Snapchat story in which you can see my socks)
Gabrielle: Hey, those are my socks
Me: Yeah
Gabrielle: That’s my quarter zip
Me: And?

The college/high school older/younger sister combo is like adulthood-lite. We get a chance to figure out what works in a relatively structured setting, and if what we’ve been doing doesn’t quite seem to be working out, we get a chance to regroup over school breaks to figure out a new game plan. Maybe next week we’ll Instagram video chat, and the week after, we might communicate via email; the week after, maybe carrier pigeons are a viable option.

Falling out of touch with Gabrielle is not a huge concern for me because I know I’ll always have a chance to see or talk to her again.

One might think that a sibling reunion is a big shebang, complete with a filled itinerary, tears, slow-motion hugs, etc. but, that really isn’t the case– and that’s the best part. Our relationship picks up right where it left off. We hang out as if nothing has changed, the only difference is that we have more stories to tell (and I have to interrupt her more to ask who the people in her stories are).

Growing up is weird– a year ago, I was horrified at even the thought of my relationships changing as I got older and older. Now that I’m living it, I’m not scared; it’s a hard feeling to describe: somewhere between sadness and comfort. I am not unbothered, but I’m not necessarily bothered; I’m simply O.K. with it– we’re O.K. with it.

I miss living with my sister, I miss seeing her every day and I miss talking to her every day. But I’m not upset at the fact that she’s in college. I cannot wait to see all that she accomplishes, and her being gone makes me excited to go to college myself in a few months.

Soon, Gabrielle will be home for winter break. And for those three weeks, I’ll enjoy the insignificant conversations, late-night Netflix binges, convenient walks to her room and petty arguments. Until then, I guess I’ll just appreciate getting to school on time.