There was a blackout on the day I was born. It was dark and cold. I remember it clearly, how still and quiet the world was, at the moment of my birth. The doctor thought I was stillborn. My heartbeat was so faint, even the monitor had a rough go at finding my pulse. He didn’t even bother to smack me on the bottom. If he had, I still wouldn’t have had it in me to cry.
They wrapped me in a blanket, just for show, because my mother wanted to hold me. Too exhausted for shock, or grief, she just extended her arms; a wordless request that was too slight to deny, too great to be ignored. It wasn’t until she held me, that I made a tiny sound; a small coo that sounded like an affirmation of life, my mother’s due… but it wasn’t motivated by her presence. It was inspired by the absence of you. I was an empty space, with no way of knowing where I began, or ended.
There was a storm on the night you were born. It was bright and humid. Do you remember it, too? The motion and thunder. Your heart racing, like it was about to explode inside of your chest. You came out screaming, like some kind of nightmare, and the doctor was tempted to sedate you.
They couldn’t hold you still long enough, to swaddle you. Your mother, beside herself, winced as you grabbed at her breast. Something that you shouldn’t have been aware enough, or capable, to do. You didn’t stop fussing, something furious, until she fed you. Just out of the womb, and already so hungry; greedy for life. But even as your stomach was heavy with milk, you didn’t feel full. It was like you had no bottom. See, cause you were the rim of the glass, not the bowl.
We share the same birthday. I was born during the day, in the dark. You were born that night, in the light. Separated by time, distance, and space, but the circumstances of our births, the distinctly opposite abnormalities, were on account that we were different aspects of the same thing. Two parts of a whole, which included every you, and every me.
I assume we both remember everything, except for the other’s face. So, I sulk and you brood. I hesitate, and you pace…
You’re the edge that I’ve been waiting to step off of. I’m the void that you’ve been anxious to fall into.
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