It is amazing how easy it is to get used to not doing things. All one needs is an excuse.
Last week I hurt myself at the gym and that became my reason for not doing certain things. Then Hugh hurt himself somehow and that was my reason for continuing to slack off. All and all, I probably spent a week blaming my inactivity on something completely unrelated.
But at least I got a chance to decompress.
Even though then I freaked out again.
First and foremost, I should state that I don’t do well with surprises. In fact, I hate surprises. All of them. And as long as I am admitting to that, I should probably say that I hate changes. I am not comfortable with anything that may disrupt my peace. And then there is the whole “stranger danger” thing but I’ll leave that for another time…
Anyway, my youngest brother has decided to get married.
As usual, everyone is stupidly happy but me.
A few years back my brother Ivan got engaged. He is now married and it is a miracle that I survived that. Anyway, before he got engaged, he took me out and bought me dinner, got me drunk, gave me cigarettes, reminded me of all the reasons why he is always going to be my #1 partner in crime AND THEN told me of his intentions with the woman who is now his wife.
Even with all that, I spent their entire engagement having near nervous breakdowns and the day of the wedding I am surprised I didn’t spontaneously combust.
This past weekend when my brother called with his news, all I got was the enthusiastic offering of a brand new German family and a “brother’s wife” (I do not say the “S-I-L” words) who would make a fantabulous personal shopper.
But my sober heart hurt.
I don’t think I ever got the memo that said that marriage is good. As far as I’ve always seen, marriage breaks up families and changes people. I struggle with that concept even for myself…
As the tornadoes hit Dallas a few days ago, I worried about my brother and that girl he has chosen to marry. And I was so mad that now I have to worry about extra people! Still, it has started to dawn on me that I may have reached a place where I am becoming less hateful (and I do mean the word hateful) of those who try to invade my circle than I might have been before. Maybe years ago Ivan took one for the team by breaking my heart enough for the two of them…hard to say.
I hope he is happy…actually, I hope both of my brothers are happier than I can even think possible. And I also hope that the womenn they have chosen understand how amazing and loved they are. Because they are loved…to the moon and back.