Did you know,
with multiplication,
you can divide one factor by two,
and double the other,
to still end up with the same product?
Two times one is two, but so is one times two,
and so is one half times four. And, of course,
four times one half.
As if one number knows what the other is lacking,
it sacrifices itself to the god of mathematics,
in order to ensure the same product is always obtained.

I wonder, if that is true of a brother and a sister.
Of you and I.
We are two.
Two drastically different, yet equally magnificent persons.
On the days I am the bigger number - of course I am bigger,
first, I am your older sister - I wonder,
if I subconsciously compensate for you.
But on the contrary, I do not wonder if you do,
for me. I know you do.
Whether or not you are aware of it,
you're a very good number, an excellent brother,
filling in for me when I need you the most.

So I guess it's true, this number thing,
but it's more complicated than that.

We have good days and bad days,
a diverse variety of emotions
which we try to contain in cracked glass bottles
that, more often than not, leak.
And in that, we are the same,
but that is where our similarity ends.

I am older, that is undeniably true,
I have other interests and desires
than you do.
Our focuses are different,
our career paths will probably never cross,
and our lives will undoubtedly grow apart with time.
My grades may be higher than yours,
but that does not mean I am more successful,
or smarter,
or better.

But you,
there is so much I want to say about you,
and I am frustrated because I can never find my words.
You are taller, making people question my validity
when I inform them that I am indeed older.
You are more creative, more artistic, more lovely and charming.
You are funnier and friendlier, catching attention everywhere you go.
You may be younger,
and you have seen less of this world than I,
but I would not hesitate
if you told me to tell you a lie,
I would simply say,
"We are the same."

We are dramatically unlike,
you and I,
and I want you to remember that.
You cannot fill my shoes,
nor follow my shadow,
because our feet are not the same size
and your shadow is not mine.
But you do not have to.
Walk in your own shoes,
standing tall in front of your shadow.

You don't have to be like me, Davey.

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