I would regularly stare at my reflection in the mirror with great disappointment, holding a finger-made giant L to my forehead. I had to switch it backwards so it looked right to me. He often stumbled into the bathroom behind me, shaking his head, but never denying my personal assessments. However similar, we were galaxies apart in mind and soul. He was kind and introspective. I was depressed and damaged. And she often echoed this assessment.

I made fun of pops, attributed my struggles to his gene pool. I was a cruel loser in denial. And Mom validated my diagnosis as all her treasonous accusations mirrored the identical bile I encountered crossing that threshold.

We had everything we wanted to survive. The exception being money.

I told my twin that no one becomes their best selves in this orbit. “It’s quite the opposite,” I declared.

He wasn’t sure how best to respond and I don’t believe I had any expectations.

“Please tell me you’ll be the last image I see.” Again, silence. And sadness.

I then inquired if we are to meet foreign visitors, what did he think they would use to negotiate? What type currency would aliens deem valuable?

This time he spoke. “If they truly are advanced, they will not need tangible elements that we perceive to be valuable. Hopefully they will be far beyond. They may be disgusted and simply leave.”

I liked his answer. A lot!

I put my fingers together as an “L” and held it to my forehead. He shrugged and turned away.

I’m not sure but think he may have smiled. I was now complete.

I quietly closed the door.