Broken Hearted

She just simply opened up the broken white dresser drawers and quickly sifted through what she wanted to take with her. I stood quietly by the bed staring at her blankly, offering her help every now and again. I stood there numbly, I could not believe this was actually happening; my identical twin sister, older than me by one twenty minutes, was leaving me after nineteen years. Nineteen years of us being one unit, best friends, and confidants, she was going to be living with her best friend. Four days before, she made the rash decision to move out on account of her wanting to live her life without being questioned by our parents. Some may say it is a normal phase to go through at our age but I just could not understand. I knew her decision was hers alone and based on her own thoughts and formulated ideas, but I took it personally. I wondered if she didn’t like me anymore. What had I done so wrong that she couldn’t deal with anymore?
I stayed strong and did not cry (of course I had been crying my eyes out for four days at work, on my lunch breaks, or randomly in the bathroom), but did not try to make small talk with her, I knew I would start crying immediately if I did. What was there to say? I missed her already and she hadn’t even left yet. Just the thought of her sleeping in the same house with her best friend, sharing late night talks with her, playing with her hair to make her fall asleep, depressed me. The physical me was standing slumped against my bed observing her move around the room quickly, carelessly throwing things in her garbage bag, but the inner me was clinging to her leg asking her to stay and crying violently. The inner me was pathetic, she wailed and pounded her fists on the floor begging her not to leave, but she was invisible to her. She didn’t even acknowledge my pain; she stepped over it just as she had done to the torn piece of paper from the soap on the floor. She lifted the large garbage bag onto the shopping cart in order to roll it to where she was going to be living ten blocks away.
“She’s done,” I thought. I struggled to find ways to keep her in the room for five more minutes, maybe she’d realize what a big mistake this was going to be and want to stay, but I came up with nothing to say except “I am going to miss you” and “I love you” in between a small cracking voice. She repeated the same words to me which began the natural disaster now forming on my face; there was rain, at times heavy, and lots of wind. I squeezed my eyes tightly together to perhaps calm the storm but I failed at every attempt. Thoughts raced through my mind; I would not be able to come home and tell her about how my day went, I won’t be able to tell her about boy troubles, or my first day of school, but even simpler than that I would not be able to make her laugh. It was a keen felt ability. I made the best jokes and she could count on me to find a roar of laughter in her that no one else could; now I would not be able to complete the only duty I was successful at.
She stood behind the shopping cart ready to leave when she just stopped and stared at me. I gave her a half smile and chuckled a little bit before more tears formed, and even more gasps for air. She opened her arms to me asking for one last embrace. I felt my knees ready to buckle and my legs shook as I walked the four steps to her. I hugged her, held her for a few seconds and felt the uncertainty in her as she squeezed me longer. We were closer than most sisters; twins have a different bond than other siblings. With Lea I could tell her anything. Things people would normally feel strange telling their spouses or doctor; my sister and I talked about without fear. We spoke about our family while I lay on her lap and she stroked my hair usually coming to the same conclusion about them: they’re all crazy but we still love them! We spoke about sex and the positives and negatives of it and how it made us feel about people in general. Once she left, I would be in my room, alone for most of the day. I did not know how I was going to do it. Just thinking about it drove me crazy.
For the past four days I thought she would have changed her mind, realize that even though we had a meddlesome family and most times demanding, she would know that all of it was done out of love and that she could not live without us, or most importantly, me. I did not want to let go of her but eventually I pulled away, she wiped her face with both hands and said “I’m glad I didn’t try and put make-up on today,” she laughed a little bit and I gave her a quivering smile. I helped her push the shopping cart through the door and closed it. The room was quiet except for the sound of the shopping cart in the hallway and around the corner until the sound eventually faded away. I sat on the bed and looked in the bathroom, the light was still on. The room was in disarray; drawers opened clothes everywhere, Lea even left her IPod. I quickly texted her and told her she had left it and to come back to get it along with the charger to her phone. As she was on her way back home to get her things I recorded a message on her iPod for her. I told her that she was my best friend, that I loved her so much and to not forget about me. I told her that even though we were going to be apart most of the time that I wanted to know what she was up to and how her life was going. I also said that I was going to spend so much time in the room with my mouth closed that my breath was going to stink and that was going to be her fault. I couldn’t resist a joke. She came back to get her things and left and the next time I would see her was three weeks later.
As soon as I saw her standing by the train station I knew she was a different person. She had come down to Brooklyn to pick me up from work. She looked different to me, not only the way she was dressed but her as a person. She smiled at me as I walked towards her and embraced me. I was so happy to see her and I could tell what she needed for the past three weeks was a hug from a person who loved her more than anything in the world. We immediately began to catch up, she told me about things she had done and things she had bought for herself. She seemed distant. She spoke to me as if I were a stranger she was just telling a story to. Perhaps she was trying not to get upset and tried to keep her distance, but it made me feel unimportant.
I went home that day feeling emptier than I had the past three weeks I hadn’t seen her. Every time we saw each other proceeding that day it felt the same. There was a part of me that was ecstatic to see her and talk to her but there was another part that knew I would go home without her to an empty room. It took me a while to get used to having my own room. But after having a roommate, a best friend, a soul mate living with you for nineteen years and even before then in the womb, loneliness was the biggest factor in my day to day life. I would make food enough for two people forgetting that I was only cooking for myself, I would close the door to the bathroom worried I would disturb her in the mornings if I was taking a shower, and I would call out to her if I was showering and forgot to tell her something, even though she was not there. She was not there, and I had to get used to it. I still have to get used to it and it does not get better.
The loss of my sister’s friendship has been the hardest thing I’ve had to come to terms with, and although I know she is not here with me, and wont be there every single time I need her like she was before she moved out, I know that life sometimes throws us curve balls that we may or may not be prepared to deal with. I still yearn for her affection, I still want her to come home and for us to talk until three in the morning, and I still want to come home together- home base. But I know that it is just what it is, a yearn and a want. Slowly it’ll get easier, and I yearn for that day more than anything else.