I remember vaguely (day)dreaming that I had a twin.
Exactly how I look like, the same hairstyle, the same fly-away on the right side of my hair, the same smile, the same nail-length.

We were identical in all ways.

Sometimes my twin would wake me up in the mornings, behind my closed eyes, where she existed. I don't even know her name. Maybe we're so identical we also have the same name.

Since I spend my time alone always, and I'm not busy with anything at the moment, I wished for my very own twin. Some say the comparisons will bring the other to envy the other; but for me if there's understanding, there shouldn't be anything like that happening. The world's just chaotic because we don't understand each other.

So there I was, getting insecure with everything, daydreaming and lost into my own world, I wished for a twin. Someone to talk mundane things to, someone to share feelings with, and and little secrets. Then my talking alone the time would have sense, my saliva not wasted, and I'd get a good reply about my ideas.

The thing about solitude is you can do anything you want, have the freedom to act and smash things, (even thoughts) and be yourself without the audience. I'm very happy when I'm alone. But it gets depressing when you don't have someone to share that happiness to. Someone you know who can fully understand you, not mock you, or talk behind you back.

I know that I'd never have a twin elsewhere, and I know that my mother's not hiding her/him, and I know she doesn't exist.

But I can still close my eyes and go to my own twindom and talk to her there, and just share memories.