She Is Not My Sister.

Now that Beapatient spilled the beans, I may as well own up. All my life I had this silly believe that Beatrix was just a sister to me. That was until Sunday two weeks ago when she challenged me to kiss her and then to tell her afterwards that I don’t love her. That kiss changed everything and started a chain of events that cannot be undone. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I realize now that I have always loved her but I was too hard headed to admit to it. I shudder when I think how close I came to losing her for ever. I can only hope that in the years to come, I will be able to make up for all the years that she so unselfishly devoted to me. All the times she cared for me when I was ill, all the plates of food she cooked for me when I was not well, all the times she cleaned my house, and all the other little things she did for me.

We’ll be signing our contracts next week. My father is thrilled with joy. Beatrix did him the honor to ask him to give her away (to me) in the church as her own father is no longer with us. Initially she was going to ask her brother to do it, but he is my best friend and I had already asked him to be my best man. But my father is a good choice. He knows her as long (and as well) as anybody else and she has known him all her life.

My daughters are not too happy about it but they will have to get used to it. I’m getting older and I’m tired of being alone.

This also means good-bye. It was her only demand. I therefore thank you for all the good times here on the blogs and I wish you all of the best.

Naturally, there will be those who will applaud my departure; you know who you are. To you I can only say: “May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits.”