| March 2nd, 2005 |
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Gemini—the sign of the twins. I was born a Gemini. May 28th a really long time ago… I’ve never really understood or followed astrology. It just isn’t all that important to me. My girlfriend ‘Babe’ and my sister-in-law both are very intrigued by astrology. They always ask people when their birthdays are or what sign someone is. And ‘Babe’ looks everyone up in this big book she has to find out all of his or her personality traits. What’s the point really? I just don’t get it.
I have this joke about being a Gemini that I tell people when asked my sign—“My ‘twin’ is off somewhere living the life I’m supposed to be living.”
Lately I’ve been wondering if that is more true than a joke. For surely my Gemini twin is out there somewhere in a wonderful relationship, possibly married, with beautiful children. That’s the life I’m supposed to be living. I’m not supposed to be divorced. Single. No children. 36. Alone. With yet another birthday looming in three months.
I could be stuck in my own Sliding Doors moment. Somewhere in my life there was that one happenstance moment of ‘What if’. A moment where my twin and I split and started living separate lives. And I ended up on the path I’m currently navigating. I wonder which choice, which decision it was that caused this split. Was it the first worthless man I fell in love with? Or the second? Was it when I got married? Or divorced? Was it the day I lost a baby? Or when I couldn’t get pregnant? Was it leaving college to go into business with my parents? Or starting a business with my ex-husband? Or working for a boss I have no respect for? Was it moving from that condo to the house with the red doors to the house I’m in now? Was it the way I spend my money? Was it waiting for ‘him’ to love me when ‘he’ never will? Was it the day I stepped off a curb and dislocated my knee that took two reconstructive surgeries to repair? Or was it a million other tiny little choices I’ve made every day? One of those moments could hold the answers to my twin and I and our elusive separate lives. Or it could go back even further… to the day I was born. I was born in Bakersfield to no one known to me. Given away and adopted by two wonderful parents. I live a life I was taught not one I inherited. My birth certificate states May 28th as my date of birth, but this is a corrected birth certificate with my adoptive parents names on it. I’ve never seen my real birth certificate. Those records are sealed. And I can’t open them without suing the courts and proving a medical need for information. It was the 60’s after all, a time of closed adoptions… not today’s liberal open adoptions where all parties involved meet before the baby is born. I don’t know my nationality, medical history or if I have any siblings. What if I actually was a ‘twin’! It’s possible… who knows. Does being given away on the day you were born instill a sense of loneliness in a person that never really quite goes away? Does not knowing whom you look like confuse your self-image? Does not knowing where you come from make it more difficult to ‘fit’ in? Will my Gemini twin and I ever reconnect and live the life I was meant to live? |
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