An Open Letter to my Brother-in-Law and his Mistress

How do I begin a letter to someone that has caused my family such distress in these last few weeks and my dear sister for half of my lifetime? What do I say to begin a blog that I have been forming in my head for days? I've got so much material I'm almost buried in the filth you have so easily tossed my way.

I guess I could address why an open letter. Why I would choose such a public domain for all to see and revisit often? Why would I blog about something so personal and not pertaining to me? I've often said in my blog that my one major rule is to only blog about myself and my problems. This isn't Gossip Girl and I'm not out to whine like a teenager about adult subjects.

Truth is, this is a situation that pertains to me; my mother; my grandmother... my family. You see, when you enter into a family as close as ours, you marry all of us. You become our brother, our son, our grandson and nephew. I was just thirteen when my sister brought you home for the first time to meet us. When you got my sister pregnant that pretty much concreted you in to our family. No matter how that pregnancy happened or how young you both were, that did it. After thirteen years of being in our family how do you expect us to act? My sister has done an amazing job keeping your actions private. Believe what you want but we all had formed our own opinions of you without her validating your worth amongst us.  My mother sobbed because she felt not only robbed of a son but violated through her daughter. I cannot overlook that.

I want both.

Ten days. One Zero. Ten. Ten days and I get to wake up next to him, cuddle him during a thunderstorm and nag him when I'm feeling bitchy. Sigh I cannot wait! I can tell that he's excited too, since his smiles are bigger on Skype as of late.

"You're going to miss those babies!"
I keep hearing from... well... everyone. It's true too. The twins I babysit have quickly become my entire life. My reason to get up in the morning, my smile when I feel like crying as well as my hair-pulling, snotty nosed cry babies when I'm already at my wits end. They cry when I walk out of a room, they make me feel needed.... they snuggle me close when they're feeling bad. I'm going to miss those little bobble heads like no other. It's not just the twins though, I'm going to miss their older sister, their mom, their dad, their Mama C and PawPaw. All of them. This family has been with me through the thick and thin. They have given me a place to stay when no one else wanted me. This family has given me a job when I was scraping by at a sandwich shop. This family has done absolutely everything for me, without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. Leaving them breaks my heart. I can't help but cry at the idea of leaving them at all much-less in need. The boys are still too young for daycare and too expensive to have in daycare, anyway. The boys don't like strangers but they took to me the first time I met them. Their older sister asks if I'm out of the house for longer than twenty minutes. I feel more apart of this family than I have any family, ever. Yes, even my own. They accept me for who I am and always wish me the best. They have showed me unconditional love (Not required by blood relation) and now I have my chance at also creating a family of my own. It's the dilemma of a life time. I've tried not to think about it. BFF (The twin's mom) and I don't speak about it... It's the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. I worry about them thinking I'm abandoning them. Is it too selfish to leave now? But staying hurts too. I feel like I'm happy with a thorn in my side. It's like gnawing my arm off to live another day. I want both things equally. To stay and be apart of this family and to go and start my own with someone who I've always had a very strong emotional attachment to.

I want both.

I want both.

I want both.

I've been going through the motions since I got back from my short visit to Louisiana. Sometimes I'm in the moment [with normal every day routine] and I'd think, "I've got to remember this, take a picture, cherish it... I'm about to move" and it still wouldn't feel real. As I'm nearing the single digits on my countdown, the realization has settled heavy somewhere in my pelvic region. (You know, where IBS lives.) I feel like it's a backpack when I run, a fly in my ear as I play with the boys and a heavy beating drum when I'm hanging out chatting with BFF. I don't feel doubt in wanting to live and be with Hubby, I feel guilt for being happy. Does that make sense? How can I be happy about something that will be taking me away from this new family that has stood by me for so long? Guilt because I've lost friends along the way and it doesn't bother me. Guilt because I'm so happy and quite frankly, I'm not sure I care who I lose in the process. (Well, accept the twins and their family. Everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care.) Hubby means that much to me.... I hear that's suppose to prove you do have real love. The fact that the ones that matter supports us the most seems to be the shining factor.

This isn't a thinking decision, this is a decided matter. It's finally sunk in. It's real. This isn't a fantasy anymore. This isn't a day dream on a hot summer day in Greensboro... or a last thought before drifting off to sleep in the middle of winter....

This is real.

Holy shit, is it real.