Please don’t tell me about the importance of family. Family is not important.
Don’t get me wrong, family is obviously important, it’s perhaps the most important thing that could possibly exist.
I’m just saying: No, it’s not.
Allow me to explain.
I have a brother a year younger than me, he lives somewhere in this very city, has for years. I don’t know where in this city he lives, there’s no way I could find out if I wanted to, which by the way I don’t.
I’ve not spoken to him in nearly twenty years, you see.
And my life is fuller and richer for his welcome absence.
My other brother I do speak to, if rarely. He’s in the hospital a lot, but when he’s out and up to taking calls I do try to find the time.
Though I’m shit at finding the time.
My Mom, on the other hand, is perfectly healthy, and loves me unconditionally. She’d love to talk to me, though’ she rarely does.
Nothing to do with her. I mean to call.
It’s just, like I said, I’m shit at finding the time.
Which, again, fine.
That’s who I am.
I feel guilty about it, it’s a part of me I’d like to change, but I can live with that.
Because I have people here, around me, in the here and now, with whom I’m close, or at least with whom I can delude myself on a day to day basis that I’m close.
People with whom I can share my life, my triumphs and heartaches, who will bail me out should I stumble or celebrate with me should I soar, people who can go months without seeing me and then, when I’m at my lowest, weakest ebb, come out of the woodwork to remind me that yes, I am loved much more than I could possibly imagine.
I have people, here and now, who I have chosen, freely.
These people are my family. Some closer to me, some farther, but all chosen by me.
I have looked at these people, judged them, and made the conscious decision to say: Yes, you are the people with whom I have decided to spend my time. You are my real family.
Because it’s only natural that the people you’ve grown to know and love and chosen freely, without coercion or obligation of any kind, would be closer to you than the people with whom you share origin in a genetically similar spurt of cum.
Those with whom you spend your time are your family, your true family, and family is the most important thing.
While, conversely, your biological “family” shouldn’t matter at all.
Love them, if you do. That’s your right. Just look at them first, figure out who they are, judge them and find them worthy before doing so.
Because to not do so?
To love somebody thoughtlessly?
Just because they’re family?
Well, that disrespects their agency as human beings…