Do you share your food easily? With whom, and why?

My older sister Tracy was the opposite. Her twin Lori was more like me, don’t touch my food.

I stared at my toothbrush. Then dropped it in the garbage can. I grabbed a new one. I was not like Tracy at all however, Tracy and I are close. We are so much alike in our ways that mom said we were twins born apart and attached by the soul. So to Tracy, she loved that, and doing things like that with her brother didn’t bother her a bit.

“Yeah, out of your mouth. Where else?”

What would you do if you found out that someone had broken into your home while you were sleeping?

“WHAT? Are you kidding?” I said to her surprised.

“I couldn’t find mine so I used yours RJ,” she told me. I looked at it. She left the bathroom.

I’ve always been like that.

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“I’ll get one next time. I’m in a hurry.”

“Give me half of yours,” she said.

She even used my tooth brush once.

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I yelled after her, “THERE’S NEW BRUSHES IN THE CUPBOARD TRACY!”

I don’t. Do not touch the food on my plate, do not take a sip out of my glass, do not sip out of my straw, do not put something off your plate onto mine.

“What?” she said. “Dad always told us we were made of the same stuff.”

Do you think the number of sissies is on the rise?

To put a face to my story, Tracy from her college yearbook.

“Out of my mouth?” I asked.

Once I was chewing gum. Tracy, then seventeen looked at me.

How did you cope when someone you love, dealing with hyper-independence and trauma, felt they needed space to heal alone? Were you able to support them without overstepping, and did you eventually reconnect? How did that journey unfold?

“Can I have a gum?” she asked.

“No I’m not, give me half of yours,” she said.

“Don’t have anymore,” I told her. She gave me the sad face.

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I did and she popped it in her mouth and continued to chew it. I stared at her with a surprised look.