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The Evil Twin

My twin points out imperfections too.

By McKinley JoPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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Me and my twin have a very unique relationship.

We tend to argue a lot. Sometimes she’s right, sometimes she’s wrong.

I can’t seem to figure out who to listen to when she’s constantly hammering thoughts into my head.

And what better topic to argue about than boys?

And there’s always that one boy, that one boy who’ll grow up to become a man.

I love men. Straight as a pencil am I.

There are days I spend time with that boy. And I come home talking, thinking, dreaming about him.

Even if this boy isn't mine, one day that man will come. I will welcome him into my open, empty arms.

And then my twin will say—"Shut. UP!"

"You sound like a desperate housewife minus the house and the wife. You’re making Marilyn Monroe’s visits to the White House look like political meetings."

What? No, I don’t sound like that. I don’t want to do anything like Marilyn’s... visits. I just really like him. I hope he likes me back—

"Why do you care if he 'likes' you? Your oxygen tank is not refilled with the kindling flame of 'liking you back.' Why don’t you just sit in front of an electric candy store or Google pictures of delicious foods? It will only add to the list of things you can look at, talk about, dream about, but can never have."

Oh, but I love how he smiles at me, how he leans in close to talk to me, how he listens to me. His personality is fantastic, his laugh is amazing, his hair, his freaking face!

"STOP IT! Stop it right now, you ditzy frog-faced idiot! Stop thinking about him! Do you really think he’s doing that for you?"

He’s not?

"Of course not, he’s a dude, and dudes don’t think about girls the way girls think about them. They don’t make it obvious that they like you. Besides, he’d only like you if you were pretty, and let’s be honest, you are not. You don’t even try and that’s why you fail."

What? But mom tells me I’m pretty, my friends do too—

"Are there any boys on that list of friends? Has a boy ever said that to you?"

Well... No.

"Then why do you think you’re pretty?"

Well... Looks don’t win everything. I know I’m funny. I make my friends laugh at my jokes all the time, as does mom—

"Hah! I never laugh at your jokes! That's the closest you’ll ever come to making my lungs choke for breath. YOU are the joke!

"Mom only says you’re pretty and funny so you can walk out into the 'big, bright, beautiful' world smiling, while you figure out the hard way that life isn’t all peaches and cream!"

"The world is dark and mean! People are mean and dark."

"What makes you think that he can make the world big, bright, and beautiful? How do you know he’s not mean and dark and dark and mean? That boy who may one day become that man wants the 'perfect girl.' Why on Earth would he ever love someone as imperfect as you?!

"Go ahead. Cry about it. I know I'm right."

...

You’re right... I’m not pretty... I’m beautiful.

You’re right, I’m not funny... I’m freaking hilarious!

Yes, it’s true, I’m not perfect... I’m human.

...

One more detail you need to know about my twin—she doesn’t exist.

Each and every one of us is born with an evil twin.

Each and every one us is going to be bullied.

There’s always someone beating things into your head.

There’s always someone that will put you down.

There’s always someone that makes you feel the world will never be big, bright, or beautiful.

And you see them everyday in the looking-glass.

To him or her, you are what they see. We are what we see through a blurry, broken mirror.

What do you want them to see?

Yes, you are right. I don’t know if he can make my world big, bright, or beautiful, but I hope so.

The world will always be dark and mean, but it wouldn’t hurt so much if I had someone to share those moments of peaches and cream with.

To that boy, I’m beautiful, hilarious, and human.

If I want to find that man someday and be his, I have to let him see the real me, and not the me that I think I am.

We are our own worst critics.

Don't listen to that voice in your head that beats you up.

That voice is really annoying.

Here are a few words from my favorite slam poet, Prince Ea.

humanity
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About the Creator

McKinley Jo

Perspective is Everything.

Let's show a few different kinds...

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