I was mad at my sister yesterday. She was frustrating me, being defensive about things, impossible to talk to. I fell asleep earlier than usual. Sometime after 2am, I awoke to her sitting on my bed. Returned home from partying? Just wanted to talk? My first instinct was to say, �Go away, I�m exhausted, I have to wake up at the butt-crack of dawn!� But as soon as I came to, I had the instinctive sensation that she wouldn�t wake me up without good reason, especially given our recent annoyances with each other.

I bolted upright. I said, �What is it?� She looked up at my eyes, said, �You know, it really was a good night, I mean, I had a lot of fun,� and then burst into tears. Body-racking sobs, eyes pouring, I�ve never seen her let go that much. I grabbed her to me, put her head to my bosom and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, rocking with her, shushing, saying everything would be fine, just tell me, what happened.

It took her a long time before she could speak without emotional-breaks in her words. In that time, my mind ran rampant. I thought, �She�s pregnant, he hit her, no, he wouldn�t hit her, this guy�s a wuss, he said something mean� my God,� I thought, �I could kill him.� I wanted to wrap my fingers around the neck of the person who made her feel this way, whoever was responsible for that look on her face, that horrible, self-loathing and despair look. She kept saying how stupid she felt. As I was about to get up and drive, half-dressed, to her boyfriend�s house (where she had gone earlier), to shake him and slap him and ask him what the fuck he had done, she started talking.

Basically, they broke up� she thinks. From the beginning, he was always asking much more out of her than she of him. He wanted commitment, love, sex� she wanted a casual dating relationship. I thought this was inevitable. She knows I think he�s a loser, that she could do better, etc. etc. We talked for awhile. She seemed to calm down, feel much better about sticking to her guns when he tried to pressure her for things. I let out a huge sigh; I wouldn�t have to kill anyone after all. Still sniffling and sobbing, she fell asleep in my bed and I held her all night.

The whole situation helped me to realize something: as mad as I ever get, as thoughtless and selfish as we ever are with each other, she is my sister. I love her with all of my heart. And despite our differences, when tested with an outside source, there is no question in my life as to who is truly important to me. If her tears were caused by something he did, rather than her own decision to break things off� well, let�s put it this way: my church, my meditation, my beliefs, all teach forgiveness and love, not harboring negativity within, letting things go. Yet for her, I would sacrifice my beliefs and values for that base pleasure, one of the seven sins, Revenge. And the bastard would suffer. Nobody makes her cry but me. Okay, that�s a poor attempt at a joke, but you get my drift.

We don�t like to see our loved-ones hurt. It is the most excruciating and painful and upsetting thing there is in this world. Which is why so many of us probably keep ourselves from getting to that point of caring. That point of madness. That point of love.

But, as I constantly remind myself, it is that point I need to be at, all the time, in order to truly live. And yes, it's true... you DO need a be a little crazy at times to stay there. But it's so fucking worth it.

-Barbarella

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