holds his hand under the table
social gatherings are not really his thing, being forgotten or being a wallflower is more of his forte. celebrating his late mother’s birthday with relatives is even worse. with everyone reminiscing the good times with her. it’s not fair, & it never will be. he spend less than a decade with her, & a couple of those years, he was too young to REMEMBER anything. the ones he can clearly recall, are those times when she had FORGOTTEN who her own sons are. he shouldn’t be here, he knows. not when they’re smiling their sadness away while he rots in his own guilt, his own loneliness.
the contact surprises him, enough to make him flinch & look at his side; it relaxes him, squeezing his twin’s hand as he acknowledges the loving gesture. he’s not alone in being lugubrious amid the ‘party,' he has HIM. always have & always will. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, his stare directed at his twin as he slowly intertwines their fingers underneath the table. right now, he’s the only source of comfort he has.