I lost a twin before birth and I miss him/her.
Recently this sentence got less of the "but-how-can-you-miss-someone-you-never-knew" responses and more of the "I-understand-we-all-want-a-soulmate" kind.
I understand, too.
I have had many soulmates over the years. Imaginary ones. Book or movie characters. Saints or Guardian Angels. They always understand me, they are always there for me, they always give and they never ask for anything. They are perfect.
I have heard people talk about having real soulmates in friends, siblings, partners, and I don't doubt their testimonies. Funnily enough, though, I very, VERY rarely have heard someone say "I AM a soulmate to someone."
Many twinless twins I know online refer to their deceased twins as their soulmates. Many early loss twins even describe their twins that way.
I don't.
My twin was...
That's the most important thing about to say about my twin. He/She at one time existed. And that time was the most formative period in my life. It was when my software was created, my operating system. The presence of my twin is still a crucial part of me, all of me.
But HOW my twin would have been as a person, how our relationship would have developed had be been born alive together is open to imagination and speculation.
We might have been highly competitive.
We might have rivalled for our parents' attention.
We might have felt overwhelmed by our funamental closeness.
We might have had long spells of not speaking.
We might have felt discouraged by one another, by the other one's actual or imagined excellency.
It doesn't matter. My twin's presence would still be essential to my existence.
My twin might have been severly handicapped, mentally or physical.
My twin might have been non-verbal.
I might have been severly handicapped, mentally or physically.
Or we might have had a happy childhood, doing everything together and being each other's best friend...
...and then fall out with each other at puberty.
Or not. We might have gone on to be inseparable, talk to each other each day, share everything from bills to boyfriends...
...and then be separated by cancer or a car crash in our mid.thirties.
It doens't matter. My twin's presence would still be the core influence on me from conception on.
My twin might have been my soulmate or my archrival, my angel or my nemesis, his/her very existence is what matters. The constant absence of his/her presence is what makes my life lopsided in so many ways. The constant presence of his/her absence is like a bottomless hole I stumble in again and again and spend too much time and too much energy to scramble out again.
Of course I have tried to imagine my twin. To invent a name and a face and the relationship we might have had. That's normal for early loss twins.
But none of these HOWs have had only a fraction of the influence my twin's PRESENCE has had on my life. My twin's ABSENT presence.
I'm not looking for a soulmate. I think it would be exhausting to be so close to another human all the time. If a soulmate would understand everything about me, I'd have to understand everything about my soulmate. What a consuming task that would be!
I am looking for my twin's presence. For that gaping hole in my soul I try to circle, try to cover up, try to ignore, try to explain away, try to celebrate, try to not get sucked into, try to dive into...
It's not about being happy, being understood, having a best friend...
...it's just about being present.
My twin was.
My twin was lost.
My twin's loss is present.
My twin's presence is lost.
My twin's presence is.
The rest is silence.
