That Jack and Jill bathroom that my older sister and I share.

She’s just a few steps away;

Through the bathroom and past the closed door on the other side.

Made to share.

I used to want my own.

I didn’t want to share.

I didn’t want to get up and turn the light off because my sister forgot,

I didn’t want to have to get another roll of toilet paper when

she didn’t grab a new one.

I didn’t realize

That something was missing.

In and out, fixing my hair, washing my face

To and fro, touching up her makeup, brushing her teeth.

Back and forth, we bickered and fought, only heightening the wall

that stood between us

But if it wasn’t for that Jack and Jill bathroom:

We wouldn’t chat in there when we got bored and laughed at the silliest things.

Late at night when we were supposed to be sleeping,

but instead,

we started talking about things that didn’t matter and never would.

Or when we were troubled and needed someone to talk to

We never thought that the other would listen

Slowly, but surely, our light-hearted conversations and snickers

carried through the house.

Laced with laughs and giggles.

In the living room, the kitchen, outside.

It became a habit.

Now we can’t even remember

the days where our parents didn’t yell at us to go to bed,

or shake their heads telling us to be quiet.

The days before we didn’t chat in that Jack & Jill bathroom.

The walls littered with stickers from when I was 8

Laced with laughs and giggles

Us.