And we laughed...and had a really, really, really good time.

I can be serious, guys. I can talk about serious things. I know, this is a huge shock to like, all of you. But hear me out a little bit.

Life moves so swiftly. It's like life is a huge, coursing river, and it's all I can do to stay afloat as I'm rushed past amazing people and experiences.

It's funny the little things that stick in your brain. It's funny, knowing how far you've come, how LITTLE we used to be, and to see yourself as the person that you've grown into.

I'm growing up. And it scares the crap outta me. Don't get me wrong, being a grownup is awesome. I'm moving out, going to college, no curfew, just me. It's awesome, having all this freedom and knowing that the world is at my fingertips and that I can FINALLY pursue it, no questions asked. And then I really start to think and it's scary, because LIFE is literally RIGHT around the corner. If anyone knows what corner that is, let me know, and I'll avoid that corner like the plague.

Recently, my sister got married. Okay, like almost two months ago. Still, semi recent. This summer has been absolutely crazy and absolutely FULL of wonderful experiences that I will never forget, that I will hold near and dear to my heart for years to come. But my sisters wedding was the best experience, hands down. Now, she's not the first of my siblings to get married. She's the third. And I love all my siblings equally (right...ha ha ;) ) but Rachel and I are so so close. There have been times in my life that I have called her my best friend. And by that I mean, my sister is my best friend. Absolutely. The best part about having your sister as your best friend is knowing that, no matter what, she'll never go away. Friends come and go, but family is forever. That doesn't mean that there aren't some non-family friends that I adore and love to pieces, but my family is first, ya know?

This is where it's gonna get kinda mushy. So you can skip ahead a few paragraphs to some slightly less mushy stuff if you'd like. I'll let you know when that is. ;)

Rachel and I didn't always get along. In fact, when we were little, we hated each other. Life was a competition for us. She was the creative tom boy, and I was mommy's little angel. In her eyes, it seemed that my mother thought I could do no wrong, and that she always took the blame. If you ask her, she'll confirm this. So please don't ask. ;) In my eyes, I wanted to live up to her. I wanted to be like her. I admired her so much, so I would follow in her footsteps, driving her up the wall in the process. I remember, specifically, one day, her trying to compete and see who had woken up first. We were sitting at the kitchen table and she says, "Now, did you wake up right as it turned from 5:59 to 6:00, 6:00 right on the dot, or right before it turned 6:01?" And I answered with "Right on the dot," and she jumps up, triumphant, and basically yells, "I WOKE UP FIRST!" That's how our life was.

I remember my mom saying to me when I was about 10 or so, that her friend so-and-so used to hate her sister when she was younger, but now they were super close friends. I didn't believe her. I was pretty sure she was lying to make us be nicer. I was POSITIVE that was impossible.

I was wrong.

Starting at about age 15, my sister and I became friends. It was slow, and there were a couple things (always involving boys, duh) that made it hard to get along. Last summer, mid-August, she comes home from a trip to Utah. I'm showing her some pictures of a photoshoot I'd done recently, before we went to go get breakfast at Wecks. All of a sudden she blurts out that she's going to go to college. She was 19 and had opted out of college and was waiting for a missionary. I had to try really hard not to cry as she explained how soon she'd be leaving(a few weeks) and why she was going. And I missed her terribly while she was gone. I would cry every single time she left from her visits home.

In February, she brought a boy home. When she announced that he was her boyfriend, I was dumbfounded. She had told me, previously, that she had no feelings for him. Which turned out to be a lie, because they're now married. But, she brought this boy home and it scared me. I wasn't ready for her to get married, and he asked my parents for permission to marry her while he was here. They got engaged less than a month later. It wasn't that I didn't like her fiancee, cuz I really did. He's awesome and such a good match for her. I wasn't ready for Rachel to step out of the life I was comfortable with and step into a new life, with someone else. It was hard for me. And I know you're all sitting there like "get over yoself gurl. It's not yo life, it's hers." Thanks, I get it. Allow me to feel.

June 7th, 2013, Rachel and Dustan Copeland were sealed for time and all eternity in the Mt. Timpanogas temple. She looked beautiful, her hair strung in pearls, her cream colored sash over her lace dress. And she looked so so happy, which is part of the reason that I think she looked so beautiful. We went to the reception and shared zebra popcorn and lots of ice cream. And we danced. And we laughed. And we had a really, really, really good time. (Macklemore reference, for anyone paying attention. ;) ) Well, there was the Father Daughter dance. My dad always cries. At my last sisters wedding it was like "FINALLY SHE'S LEAVING THE HOUSE". Not that I don't love my oldest sister, but she was a bit of a bridezilla. Rachel was pretty calm about her whole wedding and she wasn't living at home. So at my oldest sisters wedding, zero tears were shed. At Rachel's? Let's just say that yesterday, when going through pictures from the wedding, the photographers got at least 34567323434 pictures of me crying. Mostly during the daddy dance. It was real emotional, kay?

My sister has been married for almost two months now and is so so happy. And in a few weeks, I'm moving to downtown SLC, about 5 minutes away from her.

Which brings me to the real point of this whole post. Life is fast. And life is crazy. And I'm not always sure how I feel about it. And as I sit here, on a Sunday morning before I go to a Singles ward for the first time, life scares me. My room is filled with boxes and things waiting to be packed. My inbox awaits the arrival of an acceptance letter to George Wythe. My heart aches with the change. I'm excited, but I almost feel like I'm not sure if I'm ready. It scares me, this whole growing up thing. It really scares me. I leave in less than two weeks, and things are beyond hectic. But I know this is the first step in the beginning of the rest of my life. I'll move to Utah. I'll go on a mission. I'll meet a boy. I'll get married in the temple. I'll have kids. I'll get old. My kids will have kids. And life will beautiful. And life will always be a little bit scary. But that's what makes it worthwhile, right?

(Note: I wrote this post on Sunday and didn't post it til now. So, don't be confused about the dates and all.)