A nice day for a white wedding?

My brother gets married in August this year. Invitations have been sent. My mailbox is conspicuously light. I’m not invited. This probably should bother me more than it does. It’s a significant life event. Of the four brothers he has I’ll be the only one absent. He’s making a commitment to someone and I’ll not be present to witness it.

I should probably care more than I do – I do care a little bit – I’m sad that it has gone this way, but I cannot stand by and witness him marrying a woman who made him choose between her and his son. I cannot stand by and wish him ‘all the best’ when I know that an innocent little boy doesn’t see his dad because he chose a woman over his boy. After all we have been through.

I can’t be a party to this decision. I think it is wrong on so many levels. Am I to go and celebrate this happy union knowing that history is repeating itself? Am I to go tell them both how pleased I am for them? That I wish them every happiness? I am many things but I am not false. I can’t pretend to support this.

I do wish him well. I wish him the very best of luck because I think he needs it. The woman he is marrying is a harpy and she won’t be satisfied until she has her claws in him permanently.