Broke

My mom, dad, and sister Sheridan were in the car driving back from a grocery store.  We were shopping.  It was early September and I just started community college and I picked up cigarette smoking and was indulging in pot smoking.  It was a month before my brother Kane’s wedding reception.  He already got married in Germany over the summer with just his wife, Michele, and him. 
    My mom told us how he was coming out. 

    I was curious to find out when because even though we have a 9 year age gap, I always looked up to him and at the time he was probably my biggest inspiration or role model.  I never really fancied comparing myself to others but we had the same DNA.  She said that he was coming out in 2 weeks to go to a cubs game with our cousin Nick.  I didn’t know if I would be able to see him.  He always did things like this, come out and have a fully booked itinerary so he would never see us.  Maybe I would see him if I squeezed in some time between work, school and my other hobbies.
     My mom said that he was coming out for his bachelor party and that was the baseball game.
     Sweet, I’ve never been to a Major League Baseball game before.  I was never too interesting but it would simply be something new.  I asked her if I was invited because it was so close to home and ever since my brother moved to Nebraska, we barely got to see him or speak with each other because he was so busy getting his doctorate and I was busy being a nobody. 
    She told me I wasn’t invited neither was my dad or my other brother, 6 year gap, Sean. 
    I was immediately broken, crushed like a can about to be into 10 cents.  I don’t know if it was this new but stale life I was living.  Most of my friends went off to school and community college sucked, I hated it before I even started to attend. Maybe it was the un-purposeful retaliation, my age, our gap, our deteriorating friendship or my inspiration finally telling me no but I lost it.  I started berating him to my parents, how I wasn’t going to go to his reception or if I went I was going to get drunk off wine and make a mockery of my family because he was already ashamed of us.  We didn’t have money. 
    I started to cry.
    The first time after my victory over depression and still is the last time I cried about reality.
      I realized that in life you shouldn’t have flawless inspirations, you should never leave someone up on the pedestal for too long because it will either get to their heads or to yours.  Without you, you wouldn’t be living.  I became my own inspiration.  Life became serious after that moment and I started getting more and more detached from not only myself who was going through dramatic changes in my adulthood and maturity but also just from reality.  I started to become more independent doing things on my own and exploring my experiences all by myself because in life you are all that matters.  Life is in your eyes, between your fingers, around your nostrils, sucked into your eardrums and sprinkled on your tongue. 
    I never made a fool of myself at the reception but I started to become honest with everything and everyone.  I didn’t live in a veal of privacy anymore.  Who you see is who I am.  I didn’t acknowledge anything that didn’t make life a joy to live.  I just picked up the groceries, hiding the feelings, pushing it back for good and using it for concerns and experiences and I found out how to cope.  This is when I realized that life is full of actions and consequences don’t really matter.  An event is not black and white but just are and life is full of absurd deviance's but that is just life and if I get concerned in them then I am living to far in the past and I should just live.  Reflection isn’t supposed to be a disguise or a way to make you look “right” but a way to analyze the situation for the benefits in our life.