Enjy and Anjy, that would have sounded so good.
Of course our parents wouldn't have called you that. They would have chosen an ordinary name, not too much like mine. They were like that in those days. Maybe, they'd have called you Thomas. I always liked that name and he was a twin, the disciple of Jesus who bore that name in the Gospel.
Sometimes I call you Kaleb. That's when I need you as my older brother. You are that, you know? Older by five months. Sometimes I need you to tell me what to do and where to go. You are so much advanced compared to me.
But my favorite name for you is Enjy. It used to be just short for Enjolras. Big name. Look it up in a heavenly dictionary. But it became a name of his own. Of YOUR own, really. And id WOULD have sounded nice. Angela and Enjolras. Anjy and Enjy.
We didn't have much time together. Not much quantity but, oh, so much quality. It was the time when our hearts started beating, remember? When we grew from a bundle of cells into human shape within a couple of weeks. We have never again changed so much in such a short time. Well, I haven't. You have changed a lot in those moments when you were torn from the womb much too early.
What have you changed into, Enjy? I'd so like to know. An Angel? A spirit? A soul?
But I do know you're still my twin, and since you have no other place in this world I made this for you. I shall come here to write about me and you, or about twinship in general, or about the special case of an early loss twinless twin. Wait and see what it will turn out.