I used to believe nothing could break the bond between twins—until my brother’s engagement party proved otherwise.
Growing up, Dylan and I were opposites but inseparable. I was quiet and bookish; he was magnetic and athletic. Despite our differences, we were best friends.
But after I moved to Portland for college, distance slowly rewired everything. Still, I stayed close—visiting often, celebrating every milestone.
So when Dylan announced his engagement, I was excited. But as the party approached, I got vague answers, then silence. Later, I learned from my aunt I wasn’t just forgotten—I’d been excluded from a lavish celebration.
No one offered a real explanation. My family said it was a “mix-up.” But the more I pressed, the clearer it became: I wasn’t wanted. Not at the engagement, not at the wedding. Not even my girlfriend Megan—kind and generous—was invited.
When they finally realized I wasn’t at the ceremony, panic hit. But I stayed in Portland, where I was truly seen. I told my mom: “You’re not upset about me—you’re upset about the optics.”
Their response? Silence.
Now I see it wasn’t me who changed—they just couldn’t accept the version of me that didn’t live next door. It hurts. But I’ve stopped begging for space in a family that no longer wants me.
I’m still Aaron—still loyal, still loving. But I’m also rebuilding, beside those who choose me. And that version of me? He’s not invisible.
