S.'s cotidian somehow intertwined with that of her brother A. When we left for Paris, the three of us took the same train. It was a sunny morning and they, though sleepy, were both in good spirits. I wish I could always remember them as they were that morning: side by side, with rays of sunshine bathing their faces.

Watching their interaction, I got the sense that A. was reveling in his sister's cheerfulness and her easy but organized way of handling things. I think any man could use S.'s qualities in his life to make things seem less complicated. I sensed this from the way S. complements me by being more open than me in some ways and having a kind of imagination that I lack.

After dropping A. off at college, we set off towards Châtelet at a walking pace. I asked S. to take me to her favorite park. There she had the inspiration to make about three videos marking our moments spent in that "Central Park de Paris", as she likes to say. Her passion for short videos that she describes as a vivid part of a past moment, and the brilliant names she gives to certain places, thus giving them a special charm... well, these are some things I love about S.

I wanted to get as much as possible into her everyday life: the building she works in, the street she walks down every day on her way to work, the parks she walks in most, the places she goes out with friends - details that would help me locate her in time and space when I think of her. For this reason and more, it's good that we share long, aimless walks that spontaneously lead you to new places. That's how you discover a Paris that is hidden from the average tourist. A Paris of narrow passageways and vintage galleries, of marks that are subtly thrown on buildings by different street gangs and coffee shops to take shelter in on cold mornings.

That cold Thursday morning we sat in a café in Vincennes I consider a key point in our relationship. Of course, I can't remember the name of the café. We couldn't think of anything else other than the fact that we were so cold and all we wanted was coffee and a warm place to sit. That this in itself was the perfect opportunity to experience a typical French breakfast. After settling comfortably on the café's brown leather sofas and taking in the vintage atmosphere deeply, we ordered a latte, a croissant, orange juice, jam, butter, baguette and a biscuit.

As it usually happens with S., we slipped from one subject to another until we got to childhood; that part of childhood we lived separately. And I felt it completed that missing piece of the puzzle and it filled a void in my soul. I loved the moments with her: our conversations that flowed simply and naturally, the interesting and enjoyable topics we slipped into so easily, and the stories we told each other only to realize they were exactly what we needed to hear from each other.

All of this makes me wonder in the end, how is it possible that in such different environments we have evolved so similarly? The conclusion I like to come to every time is that our genes are a perfect match. We have that special affinity that books say only exists between cousins.