IN HER SHADOW
We shared the same womb. We’ve been attached at the hip since birth. We shared each other's clothes. We were in all the same classes until middle school. We had all the same friends.
I watched her walk first so I knew it was safe. I watched her play soccer first so I knew it was safe. She’s my little sister (by seven minutes), but I look up to her. She was always braver, not because that’s how she felt inside, but because she knew she would have to be for me.
When I was in the hospital, in a coma, it wasn’t hard for me—I was asleep. I can’t even imagine what it was like for her. Wondering if I was going to live. Wondering if she would ever see me alive again. Wondering how she would go on without me. But I woke up. She came and visited me in the hospital. It was the day before she moved away for college. The day before we’d be six-hundred miles apart.
We were apart for the seven days I was in the coma and three more after I woke up—the longest time we’d ever gone without seeing each other. But once she left for college, seven days would feel like a second compared to the amount of time we spent apart.
Forty percent of twins invent their own language. My mom said we would talk in gibberish together when we were little, but I don’t think we even knew what we were saying. Now, our only way of communication is through Facetime or text. We probably talk more than a lot of other siblings do, but it still feels too far and few between for us.
We both count down the number of sleeps it’ll be until we see each other again. I daydream about the day we’re next door neighbors and our kids grow up together. Until then, I’ll have to keep counting sleeps.
Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing her texts or Instagram posts of what she’s been up to. She’s living her best life in Utah; hiking, climbing, and camping with her multiple groups of friends. I can’t help but be jealous. College hasn’t exactly been as easy for me. I roomed with the Devil freshman and sophomore year, and I trapped myself in her posse of a sorority. Now, I live by myself in a studio apartment, and my only friends are my coworkers and classmates. All I do is work or homework. She’s in her glory days, and I’m just waiting for mine to be over.
She decided she’s spending another year in Utah to get her master’s. She’s always been the smarter twin—a mechanical engineer. I’ve always joked that I’ll live in her guest house one day, but part of me worries that it’s not a joke. ‘Starving artist living with her sister’ isn’t exactly the title I want to take on. But if she’s by my side, I’ll gladly be in her shadow.