I Breath You Breath

I breathe you breathe. You smile I smile. Looking in front of me, next to me, behind me; there was a mirror. There was an invisible wire connecting our brains, our thoughts and emotions were in-sync. Our shadows somehow molded into one, and our heartbeats beating to the tune of the same drum.

I breathe you breathe. You laugh I laugh. We stand in the yard, in our wool sweaters, with poorly cut bangs. Our hair as dark as night. Our faces protruding non-functioning smiles. But our eyes. Our eyes glancing around the woods, up at the trees, up at the sky. Our eyes bulging at the world around us, until we meet gazes. Laughter breaks out as we are standing in our small wool sweaters, holding hands, and our hearts beating.

I breathe you breathe. You cry I cry. Within a blink of an eye, we were in a different house. In a different state. We didn’t think much of it. It was a momentary lapse in time. What was once woods and water around us, was now concrete and like-minded houses in a land filled with rabbits and gated community pools. We would skip and hop around the sidewalks. We would do it until our breaths hitched. Or until you fell off the sidewalk--and sprained your ankle. Your tears were magical. They were contagious.

I breathe you breathe. You play I play. In another blink of an eye, we were in another house. Another momentary lapse in time. Our room was our own personal kingdom. Our own escape for imagination and laughter. It was our first taste of freedom. The closet was filled with toys. Ones we spent hours begging our parents to buy, only to be used once and forgotten about. Every night we’d get tucked in and say our goodnights. We’d then lay in silence for a few minutes and an irruption giggles would break out and echo up the towering walls. “Dora, do you wanna play?” I shot up from my bed on the bottom bunk and sprinted over to the closet. We’d play for what felt like hours and hours, in the safety of our kingdom.

I breathe you breathe. You ski I ski. Our kingdom was under the nose of a great mountain. Our parents had us learn to ski. It wasn’t really a choice we had, we both just did it. It was the first real-life experience we had together. We didn’t really know if we enjoyed it or not, but we did it anyway. I did it because you did it. I smiled through the cold days and the dinosaur chicken nuggets every weekend because you did the same. We’d stand in our oversized jackets with skis in our hands, getting ready for the day of skiing, not really sure if we wanted to or not. But, we’d look at each other and do it anyway. Together.

I breathe you breathe. You race I race. Skiing had turned into a hobby, a commitment. We had both been enrolled to start ski racing. To learn how to become better skiers in a competitive environment. At this point, we learned to love it. We learned to take the forced experience and turn it into something we actually wanted to do. Or, at least, you did. I thought I loved it, but I just loved doing something you were doing. The days were spent separated, skiing with our own groups and our own friends. We’d eat lunch together and your friends would become mine. We were separated during the day, but somehow still together.

I breathe you breathe. You hide I hide. It was the dreaded point in many kids lives. It was an unknown concept at the time. The idea of arguing and separation didn’t make any sense. Our kingdom had turned into a secret spy layer. The staircase was hidden by a shield of invisibility. The roars muffled through the floor was enticing as we tiptoed down the carpeted stairs. The muffles grew stronger as we sat on the last stair peeking around the corner. We were spies, we couldn’t be seen. It was an unknown concept, but somewhere in our brains, we knew the growing voices weren’t normal. We’d hide in our invisible hideout, sitting close on the carpeted staircase.

I breathe you breathe. You move I move. It had been a few years of two houses. Two birthdays. Two Christmases. I remained your shadow. You stayed my silhouette.

I breathe you breathe. You leave I stay. We were in a new state. Our parents separated for many years, with new members added to our family. We were all happy, but everything grew distant. Our two houses were now states apart. The only thing that was the same was us. Hearts still beating. Brains still connecting. As we grew older, our interests started to evolve. They started to become our own, and not a reflection of what one of us was doing. Then you were accepted into a ski academy. You were accepted into a school in a different state. A school that didn’t have my shadow, and didn’t give me that silhouette. It was the first time we weren’t together.

Our lives were on different wavelengths from that point forward. We were both living our own lives separately. Our hearts going to the beat of our own drums. There were thoughts in my brain wondering if our relationship would stay the same. I thought to myself that it wouldn’t because of the long-distance for years and our days lived completely differently. I was staring down a tunnel looking for the answer in pure darkness. Not knowing how far down, not knowing how close.

As I sit here, as an adult. You as an adult.

Some things will never change.

I breathe you breathe. You smile I smile. I laugh you laugh. We grow.