Throughout my life, there has always been me and my brother. My sister, whenever she talks about her 3 brothers, has always said "the boys and Alex." My twin brother, David, and I were always were lumped together. Birthdays, Christmas, Baptism, Confirmation, school, sports, whatever it was, we were always a package deal.
Whenever there was a party, it was always 'the twins' party'. Pictures from birthdays gone by have appeared with my brother and I in our party hats with our single cake in front of us. Never getting a seperate cake, it has always had two names on it: Brian and David. (I feel bad for David, he always gets stuck second because alphabetically his name is second. Granted last year his name was first, as mentioned my step-mom at our cake cutting this year, like she knew how he felt, but that is a whole 'nother post.) In fact, this past weekend we celebrated with one cake and 20 candles. Made me feel 10 again. Or shortchanged. Yeah, definitaly short changed.
And it isn't just at our parties we host, even at other peoples parties. We always were invited to parties together because parents didn't want to leave one of us out. (I feel bad for my parents, whenever birthday parties came around they had to buy two presents for the kid. Lucky kid.) Granted we had the same friends, but there were sometimes when one of us was invited without the other. One time I was invited by a mutual friend to go rock climbing with the family. When they picked me up they made it a point (the same point I am sure they relayed to my parents) that David would be taken with them next time they did something adventerous.
Now on those occasions (Christmas, Birthdays, special events) we received presents, that was a let-down too. Especially at my grandmother's house. I know she meant well, but come on, how are you gonna get two people identical presents and pretend it doesn't mean anything? (Granted it did make it easier to justify those "Buy one, Get one free" deals.) If he opened a present before me, I would flag it and put it off to the side to open at the end because I already knew what it was. The family thought it was a joke when we commented about knowing what the present we had in our hand was, but really, it was a letdown. We could have just gotten one of our piles of presents and took turns opening those presents then later opened the other group. Sure we had the item, and it is really the thought that counts, but where was the surprise? For half the presents there was none, we already knew what was coming.
But as we got older and our friends became increasingly different (yes, I'll admit, he had the cooler group of friends. I was only a part of the 'cool' group when I was dating one of them) and we stopped going to the same parties and such. Which was fine, the social gatherings were great, we could each be ourselves without worrying how the other one was acting. It was nice to not look over on the other side of the room and see someone similar to you acting like an idiot ruining your good name (or vice versa).
But, I'll admit, I did miss it. I was (and still am) very nervous in certain social situations. It was nice to have someone there I knew, it just made the situation that much better, that much easier to handle.
Same thing in high school. Because of the way Maryland works it's school systems, David and I were part of 20 some odd students that traveled from our middle school to Liberty High (pop. 1500+). Needless to say, there weren't really that many people we knew there. But, like clockwork, we were in the same homeroom, and if only for a brief 20 minutes for the first 2 weeks, I always knew there would be a face of familiarity in that classroom. (Then of course we no longer had homeroom and we went straight to first period to start the day and I had to start making friends there.)
Same with on the sports field. Freshman year I got cut from soccer and David got cut from baseball. We both wanted to play each sport, but we couldn't because the coaches found some fault in our mechanics or our attitude, or whatever. I don't know how it was for him on the soccer team, but the baseball team didn't feel right. Throughout our baseball years we played on the same team, always (except that one year, but that coach was a dick. Literally. His name was Dick Smith). But, as Zac Schatz pointed out to me that year, "It doesn't feel like a real team without David here." And he was right. No matter how I played, I couldn't help feel guilty about playing baseball while he had to go home right from school. (Those same feelings arose the next year in soccer when I almost quit because he had gotten cut.) In fact, David was the last person cut from the team, I was the last one to make it. We both left the locker room at the same time, when I told my sister I had made it, I felt guilty as she jumped up and hugged me for making the team with my brother right there. I didn't want anyone to celebrate my accomplishments in his defeat, it didn't feel right of me.
But the next year at baseball season, it was better. I could play fully again, for David made the team. No matter how I avoided him at school, on the baseball diamond it was different. I pushed for him, I stood up for him, and I don't know how much he appreciated it, but I did try and help him, to encourage him. And when he was sitting in the dugout, or out on the field, it did make me feel better, it cleared my concsious to play.
But that always came at a price. I am assuming he felt it also, but there was always a feeling of sibling rivalry. I had to be better than him, even though I was still pushing for him. I didn't want him to fail at anything, I just didn't want him to be better than me. If he made an amazing catch in the outfield, I would try my hardest to make an even more spectacular play. If I hit the ball 200 feet, he could only hit it 199 feet because I tried to be better than him. It wasn't my coaches or myself pushing me to be better, it was my brother.
But as we traveled through high school, it became clear that our friends were different. We hardly saw each other in the halls, and it was here for the first time I didn't have teachers that knew both of us. For the first time I was called "Brian" with much more frequency and in some classes the teacher never called me "David," which is a good thing when you want the teacher to remember who you are. In high school I felt more like an individual than at any other point in my life. Within the confines of our school, inside the classrooms, I wasn't one half a set of twins, I was Brian. I was finally an individual. Sure there were mutual friends that would ask about him, but it felt more and more like another brother instead of a twin brother.
But the further I travel from my brother, the further we get apart in miles, the more I seem to miss him. I miss knowing someone is there, someone I grew up with, someone I understand when no one else does. I miss being able to go throw the baseball around, or the football, or just to have at it. Although we aren't as close as some twins are that spend every waking moment together, I do feel a special bond with him.
When you spend your entire life with someone, sharing the same moments and special occasions that make life worth living, it's hard to give them up, no matter how far you go.
