With every day that passes by, I begin to miss you more and more.
I’m not entirely sure how I could miss you because I was never even truly able to know you. I never will know you.
Since my last story about this, another birthday without you has passed. It was mostly an okay birthday, but it still felt like something was missing. It felt like you were missing.
When I was in elementary school, during recess, I didn’t feel like playing with my friends. I didn’t feel like swinging or running around the ladders and under the slides that used to seem so tall. I would occasionally just lie on the grassy spot and stare at the clouds. I would stare at the clouds while thinking about you.
I don’t even truly know your real gender. When I was younger, I danced in the living room of my old house, singing, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” During one of the verses, I sang the words, “He’s got me and my brother in his hands.” Since I didn’t actually have a brother, my mom asked me who I was singing about. I said that I was singing about my twin brother. Since I was the only one who was ever close to you, they figured that you must be a boy. There’s still this small part of me who wonders.
I feel like there will always be this empty half of me, and I know that it will always be missing. There’s just nothing that I can do about it.
I can’t stop seeing you in them. I see them laughing together, and I see them making fun of each other. I see them caring about each other more than anything else around them. I see them say that they don’t like having to share a birthday, but then their actions show the exact opposite. They make me grateful for you, they make me think about you, and they make me miss you. That’s part of why I love them so much.
With each day, I begin to wonder where I would be if you were here. I do know that we would have an entirely different house if you were here because we don’t have room for six people. I know that when people ask me how many siblings I have, I wouldn’t just say two sisters because I’d have you there, too. I wish I could say that I have three siblings instead of just automatically saying two.
If I could have any wish, I would wish that you were here. I would wish that I had my missing half. Even though I don’t get every wish I want, with each day, I still wish that I had my missing piece.
