[ WP ] You are a single child in a world where being a twin is the norm .

They look at me with wide, doubled eyes. Squared in more than one aspect. A hint of anticipation, a hint of fear, a lot of unknown. “ Where ’ s your other? ” they would ask, and ask, and ask. 
 
 My mom told me not to mind them, when I was younger. I was born that way, you see. She and my auntie would take me to daycare; drop me off to the two familiar faces that ran the place. I would listen as two hushed whispers gave one message, and watch as both nannies accepted the truth with the same expression. They would tell me to play…mingle, with the others. They don ’ t know how hard it is to talk to someone that ’ s not yourself. 
 
 I, the lonely one, grew. I watched as my birthdays were celebrated with just one cake, just one set of candles, and as I grew older, I began to understand why the song was just so different for me. Nervous exchanges between the eyes: first to siblings, then to friends, and finally to me, as they stalled the missing syllables in the third line of the song. And I, the birthday girl, beamed back the big smile. Never, I thought, did they ever bring it up. 
 
 I ’ m grown up now. They stare at me, as I walk by. A lone girl in business casual: walking alone, speaking to no one…just staring straight ahead. They have no qualms now about asking me where my other is. 
 
 I, the lonely one, look back and simply smile.
