What is a twin if not a reflection of their counterpart?

Dear Débora,

What is a twin that is not a mirror of its counterpart, you asked.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that question, what’s behind it, what it means to me, what it means existentially.

And it reminded me of a call years ago. A time before mobiles, when we had to wait our turn to use the phone. You’ve got mail meant a letter in the letterbox. When no news was simply no news.

I was in Switzerland in a phone booth, trying to speak to mom and dad in Brazil. You had been kidnapped by the Santomés, so I definitely didn’t expect you to pick up.

-Hello? Hello

-Hello? Hello

(This went on a few more times)

-Damn this connection.

-It’s me Debora! I thought you were my echo hehe

-As did I!

For a moment, we both thought we were hearing ourselves — our own voices bouncing back — when actually, we were hearing each other. And we couldn’t tell the difference.

It’s not just voices either. Same for photos of when we were kids, photos of when I had Romeo and you Caio — I often do a doubletake before I can tell which of us is pictured, and it’s usually the context clues that give it away.

Thinking of this, I understand something. We’re not mirrors. A mirror assumes there’s an original and a reflection. But in that phone booth, in those photos, what differentiates us more than anything is context.

You’re right that it’s simple and complex at once. On the surface, we look the same. People can’t tell us apart in photos. But that similarity is a trick of light and interpretation. Your brain sees my face and thinks it knows what it’s seeing. My brain hears your voice and thinks it’s hearing itself. But none of it is real in the way we think it is. We’re both just interpreting signals.

So what is a twin that is not a mirror? 

Maybe it’s someone your brain keeps trying to turn into a reflection of yourself, and never quite manages.

Waiting to hear what you think.