Your Wounds Are Beautiful

God damn girl, your wounds are beautiful
Why do I feel so unusual?
Monsters are so impersonal
God damn girl, your wounds are beautiful
~Motopony: God Damn Me

My sister has beautiful wounds. In fact they are stunning. Her wounds are what make her unique and make her unusual. Her wounds tell a story, they weave a tale, they sing a song.

She and “Mr. Wonderful” celebrated their 4th anniversary over the weekend. Fortunately they celebrated apart, as apart they shall remain. She and I have many things in common, and selecting the wrong men has sadly been one of those commonalities. As her elder, I only felt it was good and right to break the cycle first. I have forever moved beyond the Practice Husband, escaped the Bad Man, and am now living blissfully with Hot Mess 1, (aka the Forever Husband).

Jason and I were actually witnesses to my beloved sister’s failed union. We’d barely known each other when I asked him to accompany me to Jamaica and stand on a beach and watch them say, ‘I do.’ Jason and I learned a lot about each other that trip, and so for that I have great appreciation for their otherwise unjust pairing.

As for the rest of those 4 years? Karma will right the world. My sister no longer needs to live his pain, the courts will inflict new wounds upon him. Her wounds may be beautiful, but his are ugly and deep. My sister’s wounds tell a tale of strength, and redemption, and perseverance; his wounds scream pity, and perceived power, and manipulation. Her wounds may have scarred over to create beautiful roadmaps. His are and shall remain festering.

Head high, spine straight, compass north…be beautiful. God damn girl, your wounds are beautiful.