There´s this wedding, my brother´s wedding.
I came back to what I still call home, even though I have been living in another country for over 10 years now. Home is my harbour, emotionally speaking. But it can also be the gloomiest and strangest place to be. It is where I long to be when I am not feeling well, but it is also where I can feel worse within a few hours after leaving the airport.
So it´s like the movies, where you should be all excited and it´s all about hairdo and outfits and high-heels and so on. But excited I am not. I am happy for my sibling, he is crowning his love story with a very fine and good woman and there´s nothing more moving to witness. Yet the idea of having to smile the hell out of myself with people that I haven´t seen in ages and I have never seen all-together-all-at-once terrifies me. It was actually a pleasant thought until two weeks ago but then something changed and everything else changed too.
I will try not to look like the strange, irritable, maladjusted expat sister, though right now it´s what I am and I really have a hard time feeling a connection with most of the people around me.
Except for a psychiatrist friend and an expat one. Just a coincidence?
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