A few years ago I was in a bad place.
So was she.
Yet she was my anchor, my rock.
She was the only one who truly understood me and vice versa.
We would spend every waking moment together. Sometimes even sleeping moments.
We would have sleepovers, but sleeping was hardly ever done.
We would talk. And talk. And talk.
We would tell each other everything.
We were so close some people thought we were sisters, twins even.
We helped each other through those horrible times.
One of our many sleepovers is particularly embedded in my mind.
I woke up in the middle of the night thirsty. I got up and poured myself a glass of water. When I came back her eyes were open.
Only she wasn’t awake.
And she couldn’t be awoken. No matter how hard I shook her.
She was rushed to the hospital.
I remember not being able to cry.
I remember not being able to sleep.
I sat on my bed. Praying. For my sister. My twin.
The next day she recalled nothing.
And then she went away.
Changed school. As did I.
We both needed to be on our own.
To find our place in all the change.
I tried to reach her, but her parents had taken away her phone.
Two days ago she calls me.
She misses me.
She wants to meet up.
Tomorrow I will meet her.
My long lost twin.