By Princess Crystal of
There are certain losses that carve into your soul in a way nothing else can.
Losing my twin brother was one of them.
Three years ago, cancer stole him from this world—throat cancer, while he was still serving time for non-violent crimes. He didn’t deserve to die behind bars, and he definitely didn’t deserve to die alone. That truth sits heavy in my heart every single day.
We were twins—two halves of the same whole. We shared more than just a birthday. We shared a language. An unspoken understanding. A connection that went deeper than words.
And now… I miss him in all the ways I never thought I would.
I Miss His Voice
He had a voice that could calm me down, crack me up, or call me out—depending on the moment. It wasn’t just the sound of it I miss. It was the feeling behind it. The warmth. The familiarity. The way it made me feel safe, even when everything else felt uncertain.
Now the silence where his voice used to be is one of the loudest things in my life.
I Miss His Ideas
My brother had a mind that never stopped working. He always had a new idea, a wild plan, a different way of looking at things. We didn’t always agree—but man, did he challenge me to think bigger, deeper, bolder.
Even when he was locked up, he never stopped dreaming. He used to tell me all the things he wanted to do when he got out. And I believed him.
Now I carry those dreams with me. For both of us.
I Miss His Advice
He knew me better than anyone else. He knew when I was faking a smile. He knew when I needed tough love or just someone to listen.
He gave advice straight up, no sugarcoating—but always from a place of love. And sometimes I still catch myself thinking, “What would he say about this?”
I’d give anything to hear one more piece of big-brother wisdom.
Even just one more “I told you so.”
I Miss His Face
It’s the little things I remember most—his smirk, the way his eyes lit up when he had a joke coming, the way he looked when he was deep in thought.
We looked alike.
Now when I look in the mirror, I see pieces of him—and that both comforts and wrecks me.
Because he’s still here. And yet he’s not.
Love That Doesn’t End
I won’t pretend this loss is easy.
I won’t pretend I’ve made peace with all of it.
But I will say this: being his twin was one of the greatest gifts God ever gave me.
Even though the world sees him as someone who died in prison, I see him as my brother.
A man with flaws, yes. But a man with love, intelligence, laughter, and a soul that deserved better.
I carry him with me every day. In my voice. In my ideas. In my strength.
And I’ll keep telling our story—because he still matters. Because he’s still loved. Because I’ll always miss him.
If you’ve lost someone close—especially someone who felt like a part of you—I see you. You are not alone. And it’s okay to grieve in your own way, in your own time. That kind of love doesn’t go away. It just lives differently now.
Rest in peace, my twin. I’ll always carry you with me.
Copyright 2025
Crystal Amon
Princess Crystal Says 
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