Suffering is Caused by Attachment

Albert’s Story

My identical twin brother, Robert, and I always had a complicated relationship. He was a little smaller than me, a little weaker than me, and a little jealous of me. He’d always do this thing where he’d be pestering and annoying me on purpose, and then the second I would shove him or hit him the arm, he’d go running to our mom. I can still see his stupid little face proudly smirking at me from her shoulder while she comforted him and punished me.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that she was on his side. It was worse in school, where everyone from peers to teacher, would pity him for being smaller and weaker, so I would point out that we were born five weeks early (which was true) because he wasn’t getting any nutrients. I would joke that I saved his life before he was even born. People thought that was kind of funny, but Robert never did. He’d always say that I was trying to kill him from the start. Funny guy.

It often feels like our fighting goes all the way back to the womb, but what annoyed me even more than Robert was how everyone treated us as interchangeable entities instead of unique individuals. One year our grandma got us both a football for our birthday. I know Robert doesn’t like sports, but he didn’t have to be so rude to her.

“Thanks Grandma,” he said, real sarcastically, “now Albert can have two footballs.” He tossed it aside and then got up and left the room without saying another word. And the crazy thing was that I didn’t even like football. That same year she got us both science sets too which he loved and I thought was stupid, but I at least pretended to be interested.

The older we got, the more we drifted apart, so that by high school we were barely talking. We weren’t fighting and we didn’t dislike each other exactly, we just didn’t interact. We had completely separate groups of friends and engaged in different activities, Even when we went on vacation, my parents would allow us both to bring a friend so we’d each have someone to talk to.

As far as I was concerned, Robert was a non-entity, a non-factor in my life, but all that changed during our junior year of high school. We went from being roommates to enemies, a dynamic that would remain for the rest of our lives. In hindsight, the incident is a minor one, and should not only be funny now, years later, but should have been funny at the time. And it would be funny if my psycho brother hadn’t been so psycho.

It started when a new girl transferred into our school. It was October, her name was Maya, and she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. She was placed into my lab group in chemistry and the two of us hit it off right away. Every day in class, I would explain various unwritten rules of the school, and then she would explain chemistry to me. Thank God she did too, because chemistry made no sense to me whatsoever before she arrived.

After a few weeks of this, which gradually turned into gentle flirting, I asked if she wanted to hang out sometime outside of school and was thrilled when she said that she would love to. We made plans to see a movie at the mall, and since I lived right around the corner, we agreed that we would meet at my house and walk over.

I had never had a date before, let alone a girlfriend, so I was walking on air all week long, waiting for the chance to hang out with her without Bunsen burners coming between us. It sounds silly, but the very prospect of holding her hand at the movies made me feel so excited and nervous.

Robert was sitting in the living room, messing around with his guitar when the doorbell rang. Why couldn’t he play that up in his room? I thought as I walked to the door.

“Who’s at the door?” he asked in a sing-song voice that told me he knew it was a girl. It was the most he or I had said to each other in the past six months.

I ignored him, opened the door for Maya and invited her in.

“Maya?!?” I heard Robert call from behind my back.

“Oh my god, Robert, is that you?” She called back to him, brushing past my shoulder.

“How do the two of you know each other?” I asked, trying to keep my cool.

“We’re in guitar club together,” she said flatly. I could tell she didn’t really care about him, which helped me relax.

I looked over at my brother and saw a face that I’d never seen before. He’s been angry before. He's been jealous, but this face was something else entirely. He was sort of gloating, sort of enraged, and definitely trying to appear nonchalant.

“Not only that,” he said, responding to Maya’s comment about guitar club, “but we have a date tomorrow night. And,” he continued as the enraged started to overtake the nonchalant, “she’s my girlfriend. I cannot believe you’re trying to swoop in and steal my girlfriend.”

What a ridiculous human being Robert is. He asked no questions but just jumped to the conclusion that I was some girlfriend stealing thief. He took a step towards me and I took a step towards him. I could see him shaking with anger and in that moment I knew that I hated him.

Maya could see what was happening and she could see the same thing as me, that my brother was crazy. She looked right at him and called him out. I still can’t believe that anyone could articulate truth on the spot the way she did when spoke right into his face with a calm, unwavering confidence.

“I’m not your girlfriend. I’m no one’s girlfriend and I will never be someone’s girlfriend. I am not a possession to be fought over. I did not know that the two of you were brothers, but even if I did, I can hang out with one person on Friday and another on Saturday if I want. No one will possess me!”

She turned and left. I was furious. Because my brother is an idiot and jerk, she didn’t want to go out with me either. I don’t blame her for that, but I sure did blame him. The front door closed and our gaze shifted right back to one another. He said nothing. I said nothing. Our fists were clenched, ready for battle, but I decided to be the bigger man and went up to my bedroom, closing the door. A moment later, I heard him do the same. He never apologized.

Maya didn’t talk to me in Chemistry anymore. She asked our teacher for a new lab partner and that was that. My brother and I lived together in that house for another year until graduation but never spoke again. We traveled in opposite directions for college and only communicated to avoid returning home at the same time. I was happy to never see that face again.

Robert’s Story

My identical twin brother, Albert, and I have always had a tense relationship. He was always bragging about being a couple of inches taller than me and being a little faster than me. Plus, he used to hit me all the time. I’d always try to put up with it, but eventually I was black and blue. My mom would hear me crying. She would scoop me up, half-heartedly tell him to stop, and then would sit me down and tell me I needed to toughen up.

Eventually I learned that she didn’t care that he bullied me. In school, it was worse. Everyone, from peers to teachers, would make comments about me being the smaller twin, so I would turn it into a joke about how he took all of the nutrients in the womb. People would laugh and then move on, but Albert didn’t think it was funny. He’d always chime in about how they should have just let me die in the womb because I was too weak to get my own nutrients. Funny guy.

He's been rude and selfish for about as long as I can remember. People were always bending over backwards to keep him from losing his temper. My grandma took to giving us identical gifts to try to avoid any confrontation, but it didn’t work. This one time she gave us each a football and a science kit. It was so embarrassing how he responded.

“Thanks Grandma,” he said, practically throwing the science kit in her face. I thought it was actually kind of cool and thoughtful, even though I don’t really like science. We opened the footballs and he didn’t even acknowledge it. I told my grandma thank you, very politely, and then went to my room to keep from blowing up at him for treating her so poorly.

As we got older, we stopped fighting so much and just started ignoring each other, which I really preferred. Fortunately, we didn’t have the same taste in friends. He’d always try to bring the most popular kid in the class with us on vacation. It was embarrassing to watch him fawn all over kids who thought he was lame. I, on the other hand, was proud to have the same best friend all through elementary school.

Over time, I went from being embarrassed by Albert to pretending he didn’t exist. As far as I was concerned, he meant as much to me as a piece of furniture I never used. That changed junior year of high school when I went from not caring about him to hating him. It’s kind of weird, because the incident was so silly and stupid, but he can’t laugh at himself, and when I tried to laugh about it, he just got angrier and angrier.

It started when a new girl transferred into our school and joined the guitar club. Her name was Maya and she was so creative. When she joined the club, she actually didn’t know how to play, but said that she always wanted to learn. There were only about five or six kids in the club, and since I was the most experienced, I took it upon myself to show her some chords and some basic riffs. Pretty soon, we were jamming together after school every day.

After a few weeks of working on our fingering together, I asked if she’d want to jam together outside of school sometime. She responded with a “yes” so fast that I almost didn’t catch it, but not only that, she asked if I wanted to come to her house to play. We made plans for Saturday night. I couldn’t put my guitar down all week.

I don’t know if she thought of it as a date or not, but I was thinking of it as one. We were hanging out so much that I had already starting to think of her as my girlfriend, even though we hadn’t discussed anything romantic. We just had so much in common that it made sense.

Friday night came and I was sitting in the living room playing the guitar. The doorbell rang and a cloud of body spray enveloped the entire room. He is so stupid and superficial, I thought.

“Who’s at the door?” I asked, trying to be nice to him, as I did periodically. I always had this little hope in the back of my had that we’d be friends one day.

He didn’t even look in my direction but opened the door for Maya.

“Maya?!?” I instinctively called. He was going out with Maya?

Her face lit up when she saw me. It was obvious that she liked me way more than she liked him.

“How do you know him?” Albert asked in an accusatory tone.

“We’re in guitar club together,” she gushed. I felt relief that she was so excited to see me.

I looked over at my brother and saw his neck getting beet red. He’s always been a hothead, but this was different. He looked like he wanted to murder me, and for the first time in my life, I was actually a little afraid of him.

I quickly tried to diffuse the situation by saying that we were hanging out the following night. He looked me dead in the, and with a voice dripping with malice, snarled “you’re going out with my girlfriend? Who do you think you are trying to steal my girlfriend?”

My brother is so stupid. I wouldn’t even dignify his question with a response. I was just looking for him to back off and back down. But then he took a menacing step towards me. He’s bullied me my whole life, but maybe my mom was right. I needed to toughen up and not back down.

Thank God for Maya. She might be one of the most impressive women I have ever met in my entire life. She looked right at that idiot and told him exactly what she thought. To this day I don’t know how she managed to find the exact right words and then to speak so clearly and directly to my brother.

“I’m not your girlfriend. I’m no one’s girlfriend and I will never be someone’s girlfriend. I am not a possession to be fought over. I did not know that the two of you were brothers, but even if I did, I can hang out with one person on Friday and another on Saturday if I want. No one will possess me!”

She turned and left. I was furious. My brother treats people like trophies, with zero empathy, and because of him, she left. I looked back at that lumbering moron and he looked at me. We should have laughed, but his clenched fist showed me that he was in no laughing mood. He moved towards me like he was going to punch me, but when he saw that I refused to flinch, he thought better of it and went to his room. I grabbed my guitar and did the same. He never apologized.

Maya canceled our plans for the next night and never came back to guitar club. She was the coolest girl I ever met and my brother ruined it for me. We were forced to live together for nearly two more years until we left for separate colleges, but we never spoke again, except for when I’d check to be sure we weren’t visiting our parents at the same time. The silver lining was that I was happy to never see that face again.