Perhaps you're living proof that there really is somebody for everyone.
Dear Davey Wavey,
I have to be honest. I never thought you would get married. In fact, there are a lot of things I never thought you'd do. I never thought you'd want to play libraries with me for hours on end, but you always did. I never thought you'd stop eating turkey twizzlers, and then you discovered vegetables. I never thought you'd become a policeman, but woaaaaah, look at you now, arresting criminals and shit. I never thought you'd actually throw my exercise ball out of your bedroom window that time, and then I watched it bounce off of the garage roof and halfway down the road. Neither did I think you would bare my weird and awkward, hormonal-house-party, cataclysmic teenage soul to the nation when you got your hands on my diaries that time (OH-EM-GEE, insert-name-of-one-of-your-friends-here IS SOOOO SEXY! I LUV HIM WELL LOADZZ! XXXX', but... Ahem. You did. You've been full of surprises since day one. It's the thing I like and loathe the most about you.
When I think of our sibling-ship over the years, I'm greeted with a wave of warm nostalgia, followed closely by the tenacious grip of mild horror. I'm not going to pretend that we've been lucky enough to experience a perfect, rainbows-and-unicorns relationship. I'm not going to pretend that you never 'accidentally' pushed me down the stairs, or broke my tiny, untarnished heart when you wouldn't let me watch Ground Force. I'm not going to pretend that I never accidentally killed your budgie. I accept all responsibility for the sudden demise of baby Snowy I, and I hope you know that the guilt still haunts me. (Seriously, it does. I am a terrible human.)
But guess what?! It isn't all bad news! For every crappy, 'I HATE MY BROTHER' moment, there has been an 'I'm laughing so much I may urinate on the floor' moment in reserve. Remember when you tried to forward roll across the beds in Grandma's spare room and fell into a sprawling heap in-between them? Remember the 'SMACK YER BUMS!' game?
As you enter into married life and become well and truly adult, I think you should know that yes, you are an asshole, but you are also a wonderful human being: one of the funniest people I know. I really am proud to be your sister, and it means a lot to be reading during the service tomorrow. Let's hope I'll actually be able to string a sentence together and it won't be the most humiliating experience of my life.
And Charlotte, your ever-suffering, beautiful wife-to-be? She's wonderful too, more wonderful than you will ever be. I know you know that; you're marrying her after all. It's the greatest decision you've ever made. There is no love more obvious than the love you have for each other, and I hope, in fact I know, that you will live a happy life together. She makes you a better man. Please don't ever forget how to husband. And please give me a niece or nephew soon. I'm desperate for an excuse to go back to Fort Fun.
I hope you have the best day of your lives tomorrow. I also hope that the risk of divorce means that your face shall never again sport that creepy, gangly explosion of excess ginger fuzz.