The Only One...

Someone once asked if I was an only child.

I gave a "Yes" response in that kind of defensive oh-how-did-you-know-type of tone.

Were my mannerisms a dead giveaway in terms of my family background? I wonder.

"Well, you kind of treasure your space and your privacy a pretty great deal." Came the response.

Which is to say, I am not open or forthcoming at times perhaps.

While I fully understand the reason why my folks have decided not to give me a younger brother or sister to play with, I still harbour thoughts now, even as an adult, about what it would have been and how different I would have turned out had I not been an only child.

Heck, I guessed I might have had a traumatised childhood, with all the fighting and taunting.

Or maybe turned out more streetwise.

Looking at people around me sharing about the experiences that they have had with their siblings made me realise how lucky and unlucky I am.

No competition for attention from my folks when I was a young, mischievous, cheeky boy and none of the headaches and troubles others experience when dealing with their brothers and sisters.

But yet missing out so much on the camaderie shared between siblings, the encouragement and the alternative bitching outlet only your brothers and sisters can provide.

I know I can't turn back the clock and hope for another sibling.

And it's definitely biologically impossible to request for one now.

But the feeling of having one would have been nice.