I want to know why I do things. Why I am the way I am when it comes to sex. Why I consume when I can't deal with my feelings; where that came from. Why I cry when I watch shows about kids in highschool. And why my heart lodges in my throat every time I open an envelope with my father's address on it... half hoping to find a letter, always relieved when I don't.

I spent yesterday with my family. Now that I'm older, now that we're all older, Daniel, Adam, Steven, and I can talk a little better and longer about things that we're interested in. Daniel is awkward around girls and I'm happy that I'm his cousin and,therefore, sexless in his eyes because he's so funny and I am pretty sure he was being himself yesterday.
I went to wake Adam up at 1 p.m. He always needs waking up and I was excited to see him as I climbed the stairs because I was looking forward to a sense of belonging. All four of the older cousins there (including me) are 19, 20, 21, and 24. It's okay for me to talk to them about veganism (aunt kim looked as if i stabbed her in the back when i told her i brought tofurkey), Wal-Mart, India, drugs, and the guaranteed discontentment with my place in life.
I tried to keep an eye on Mom, but decided not to when Uncle Joe asked me if we should try and keep her away from the dessert table. She won't listen, anyway. I saw her sneak into the room with the food when everyone had taken their pieces and slices. I kept thinking about how they see her. My family sees my mother as a child; but don't I? Don't I compare the line we hold between mother and daughter as the most abstract object you'll ever encounter?
Aunt Kim was hosting this year. A couple of years ago Daniel wrote an essay about his family and won an award. Everyone passed around the piece at Thanksgiving that year and coudln't bring themselves to talk about the subject matter. Aunt Kim drinks wine, apparently and a lot of it. Aunt Kim has stress and anxiety and maybe she isn't well. I kept an eye on her too yesterday, but here is a woman that I am not comfortable hugging randomly because I see her once or twice a year and she looks so fragile all the time, despite her weight, whatever its variance at the time.
Adam's room was littered with bottles of liquor, cartons of Camel Filters, cigarette butts, chairs, and bowls. I sat in one of the chairs and he sat up in his bed, a sleeping bag covering him up to his chest. I waited outside his room while he got dressed and went downstairs. Uncle Danny's property holds a little house that serves as a place for Adam and Daniel to stay. Their fridge had stuffing for the dinner, two bottles of beer, and probably some other indiscernable object. A couple of hours later, when Arran and Gavin (the younger cousins representing the 3-6) age group, knocked on Adam's door as we were hiding out there, we had to scramble to clean up the bowls of butts, parahenalia, and alcohol. All I can say is too bad I wasn't consuming any of that stuff. It may have helped.

Paul told me that he hung up the phone the second he heard his new doctor was a woman. My grandmother laughed about how her husband is a chauvinist pig. Ha ha.
Daniel and I tried to make Arran and Gavin play "cemetery" so they'd be quiet, but instead they started fighting without yelling and Arran got an open handed slap across the face.
I wandered around the new house and got lost, stepped over a dead mouse in the attic.
Adam told me that the congregation of the church his parents attend just fired its pastor because he saw to it that some black members of the church were uncomfortable and they were. And they left.

I definitely remember moments yesterday where I consciously thought to myself "I am happy and I love my family and all of their sadness, laughter, and tension."