All that’s missing is the syrup…

I’m an emotional pancake.

I’ve been flattened. My father is marrying someone else — the someone else I believe he left my mother for. And he’s marrying her in Austin (so I can’t use time or school as an excuse) on Thanksgiving Day.
I was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with my mom because we’re going to be with Grant’s family for Christmas.

 
I don’t know that I’m going to go to the wedding. I have a lot of thinking to do.
If I go, I feel like I’m condoning what he did. I’m condoning that he left, that he’s moving on with his life, that’s he’s marrying again. If I go, I am betraying what I fundamentally believe, which is that you marry once–and only once. If I go, I feel like I would be betraying my mother (although she said that is absolutely not the case).

 
If I don’t go, I am absolutely certain my father will never speak to me again — although, admittedly, I don’t think I’d be missing much. If I don’t go, his side of the family will surely sit in judgment against me. I might lose them all — although, again, I’m not sure of how much I’d really be missing. But if I don’t go, in one day, I could lose the vast majority of my family.

 
I haven’t confronted my dad about how I feel. When I told him I didn’t agree with his decision to leave the family, he told me it was leave us or commit suicide. I didn’t tell him–haven’t told him– that I think the more honorable thing would have been to commit suicide. You know that or suck it up and be a man.

 
I can’t even imagine telling him I don’t want to come to his wedding. Dress up and watch as he marries his Pottery-Barn-Bitch. I’d rather brush my teeth with bleach.
What I really don’t get is how he can really believe this time will be any different? How can he think he can make it work this time when he couldn’t’ make it work before? And how many times can you stand up, before God and family, and lie before you get struck by lightning?
 

 
I’m not writing this for sympathy or advice or anything else. I just needed to get it out. Get the emotional pancake that is now my world on paper… or cyber-paper. I need to write it down to get it out.

 
I’m going to look for that syrup now. Perhaps it’s hiding under my covers?