Double Double This This
By Bridgitte Thao, 18, Minnesota
Double mirrors and doorways—
Double keys and hard drives—
Twin combs and twin beds—
Twin rooms between twin homes—
Twice the space and sky—
Twice the longing and loss—
Dual hands holding mine—
Dual hearts tugging at my own.
The title of this piece comes from a hand game I used to play in elementary school. Every morning on the bus, using the back of seats as a steady practicing board, I’d alternate clapping my palms and the back of my hands to the chant “Double double this this, double double that that. Double this, double that. Double double this that.” In my new life as a college student, I find that there are duplicates of life everywhere: my bedroom on campus and the childhood bedroom I long for; my fuzzy black slippers at home and the ostentatious leopard-print ones I don around my suite; my conception of the very word “home” belonging to a little house in the suburbs and the cramped living arrangements of Lanman-Wright Hall. With so many duplicates in my life, I can’t help but feel untethered from the spaces I should call my own. I feel as if there exist two worlds—both made for me—where I cannot stay put.
Instagram: @theebridgitte
