The nuptial engagement from the bench seat.

Weddings. A good excuse to gather the most beloved and most annoying individuals of a family. A very good excuse to eat, drink and dance “la culebra” until you cannot feel your toes. The perfect excuse to legally and spiritually become one with that person you’re very in love with and establish a sacred commitment of respect, love and faith. Qué pinche miedo (google might help you with that spanish).

Life gave me the great chance of flying from Sweden back to Mexico for a very expected and nice event of my family: the wedding of my brother.

My brother is 8 years older than me; an intense, charming, efficient, grumpy as fuck and smart as hell human being whom I consider to be the best man I’ve know in this life. A man whose laugh and sense of humor is so freaking ironically funny that it is impossible to not crack up; especially with stories involving the deadliest spider in the world being hunted with a broom, french police accusing him of being a terrorist or help coming from a mexican commander code cougar. Brilliant.

His now eternal companion, a 1.60 m beautiful woman from South America, with more guts and strength than the majority of women and men I’ve met. A woman whose oil & gas industry experience mixed with her peculiar accent, big heart and mind, conquered my brother and makes him smile like I’ve never seen before. Meant to be.

As you may or may not know, we mexicans are either very ridiculously religious, or superstitious, or both. Latinoamerican society in general falls also into this area. I personally have stopped believing in the catholicism and similar paths of thinking; I’m not judging, I just choose not to follow the institution myself. I am not an enemy of religion itself; in fact I’m a very spiritual person, more interested in the likes of Buddhism and knowing the inner-self, trying my best everyday to expand my mind and become as conscious as I can be. I believe we humans are capable of achieving incredible and amazing things when we combine our spiritual and rational sides.

As any typical wedding that takes place in a church, in this case a catholic church, the father is in charge of the ceremony and gives some words of advice and motivation to the newly-weds. Despite the fact most of the times you hear only religious analogies and a bold religious guy giving out to the whole audience, this time was actually quite  interesting.

The father used the following analogy; he said that love is like wine #Purewisdom. When you drink wine, you become chatty, relaxed, smiley, charming, funny, sometimes you even go to the main stage, give your best James Brown impression and rock it all out. Wine is tasty, sometimes strong, sometimes sweet, sometimes smooth, sometimes unexpected, sometimes exactly what you need. Like love. Eventually and unfortunately, you finish the bottle and the wine is gone. Maybe you drank it too fast, maybe it was not what you expected, maybe it was too good and you couldn’t control yourself, whatever the reason, sometimes it’s just gone. Yep, just like love.

So then you either keep buying that same bottle which you think is your favourite, even get the special limited edition and drink it on unique occasions, or…your mind breaks, you get a totally different brand and you magically get a permanent forehead tattoo saying “I’m a bloody basterd”. You got a knowing smile there, didn’t you?

So there was I, sitting in the church on the bench of the groom’s honor men, watching my brother wearing a custom tailored made suit, receiving blessings and words that encouraged him and his wife to walk through life and seek happiness together. Sharing good and bad, happiness and sadness, anger and joy, light and darkness. It is such a strong commitment that made me shivered to the base of my spine.

I’m known for being kind of insensitive in terms of love-relationship management, but don’t get me wrong, I do know what being in love means, what it requires, what it demands. I’ve been in both sides of the court, the one who loved the most and the one who was loved the most. I certainly hope that one day I’ll be able to be on that utopic and surreal path of unconditional, mutual love. I guess all I need is guts and to be conscious enough of taking that high cliff jump. And maybe more guts.

A part of me says that we human beings just know when it is the right time and the right person. We feel it and it reveals as a shaking leg, as an authentic smile, as an infinte hug, as a look in the eye that drills directly into your soul and makes think “holy shit, I’m fucked or would like to be at least“. It is not common, it is not an everyday event, it might happen twice in your life. And then what? we panic, we chicken out, we think it’s not the right time. It is complex sometimes yes, maybe impossible due to circumstances beyond our control, but those are isolated events. So next homework, if you truly like/love someone? Tell her/him, even if it will last one day, one hour, one minute, tell them. Life is too short to not enjoy this kind of emotions and trust me it’s fucking worth it; in case you have not done it, it’s a very good way to start knowing who you are, and who you are dealing with. There’s no such thing as “ruining friendship because of love”. Don’t be a coward and just fucking go for it. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. #love #orsex #orboth #foreverhappy.

I must now reveal that about 75% of my relationship skills were taught by my brother. The deadly combination of the dancer, the player and the lover. Even that very day of his wedding, I had an awesome emotional blast because of his last bit love advice.

I guess the point of this emotional blog is to share with you that I’m thankful of having a brother like him. He taught me how important family is, how important it is to think before you spit shit out of your mouth, how to be funny, spontaneous and ironic. He encouraged me to be an engineer, to focus on details and to learn as much as possible about everything. He taught me how to drive and how to play video games. He taught me about incredible music, to sing and to dance. He took me to my first racing car competition, to my first electronic music concert (Paul Van Dyke 2008) and to my first rock concert (AC/DC 2009). He was with me for my first tattoo. He taught me to fight, to defend myself and to never back down. He taught me about movies, about politics and about hilarious comedy shows. He taught me respect and to respect. He taught me love and to love. He taught me how to be badass. He taught me how to be a man.

I’m more than certain that he will be a great husband, father and partner. I know he will drink and share the same wine and love with his better half and I definitely could not be prouder to have a family member like that. I respect and honour him, for who he is, for what he fights for, for what he lives for, and hope that one day I manage to find the key of the door that took him to where he is now.

To my brother and to his wife.

Que vivan!

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