Life is so rarely what we expect, dear sister. I feel like our generation has been told by everyone—our parents, our grandparents, by society—to settle. Settle for whatever you can grab on to, and don’t let go once it’s yours. No, no, no! Our generation has to do better, to choose more, to settle for more—when the world is offering less. Instead of waiting until I’m retired, I choose to live now. To enjoy the world, my youth, my ambitions and my dreams now, now. Because tomorrow is not promised, little (by two minutes) sister, and we have to do the best with what we’ve got. Let it be known! said the preachy twin.

I hope you can be happy for me, Shay. A doctorate in four years for pennies is beyond anything I thought possible for myself. (Democratic socialism for the win!) The problem is I can’t leave France without finding an apartment, setting up a bank account, and receiving my student visa—I can’t come home before school starts again this fall. (Democratic socialism fail.)

My agenda has been a Rorschach test of scribbling notes and broken pen stains lately, nailing down all the dates and documents I have to provide. I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA and we haven’t Skyped—I’ve only been to the Louvre once this month (*hair flip*), I’m that busy. Part of me wants to throw a giant fit each time I argue with the immigration office, but I don’t. You really have to go along to get along here. I can’t help thinking how we would own this city, were we here together.

I hope you can support my decision, though it may come as a shock. You’ve always known what you wanted to do and followed in Mom and Dad’s footsteps, no restless wings necessary. You were all so single-minded about school and medicine, and I’ve never been. About anything. For the first time, it feels right here.

But I know you’re lonely, because I feel it, too. In my bones, in my tiny residence hall dorm for semester-abroad students, when I’m not experimenting with mystery foods, I feel your sadness and longing. You’ll say it’s the hippie-dippie in me that worries salad leaves feel pain being torn from their mother roots, but it’s the twinning. Remember how once you woke up early from your nap and asked Mom to make dumplings because you knew I wanted them? We could always sense what the other desired without her having to articulate it.