Reality vs. Imagination

I totally get carried away in the imagination department. I always have. It usually leans toward the "panic because there's an impending disaster" kind of imagining. My recent experience was no exception.

Here are the factual events:

Sunday, 11 a.m. - I sent a text to my "big brother" in Michigan, letting him know that I'd mailed him a chocolate cake.

Sunday, 8 p.m. - Something happened that made me really, really, really want to have some big brother time, but 1) it was late in MI and 2) he hadn't ever texted me back, so he obviously wasn't around.

Monday, 9 a.m. - I got a text from him, telling me that he was just headed back from vacation so he hoped it hadn't gone bad. I told him to put ice cream on it if it was dry and then proceeded to vent at him about the other thing via text for the next seven hours.  (hey, I'm a girl. These things are necessary.)

Here's what happened in my head:

Sunday, 11 a.m. - I really hope that cake didn't get lost. It really should've been there by now. I'll send a text and see if maybe he just hadn't mentioned that it had arrived.

Sunday, 12 p.m. - hm... it's been an hour. Maybe MI fell off the face of the earth.

Sunday, 3 p.m. - Ok, this is really unusual, even for him. Maybe something bad happened to him...

Sunday, 5 p.m. - OH MY GOSH, HE HAS CANCER AGAIN. I saw that facebook thing about a CT scan a while ago and never heard that he was ok so maybe he relapsed or whatever they call it when cancer comes back. Come to think of it, I haven't seen anything from him OR his dad on facebook or twitter for at least a week. OH MY GOSH, HE'S DYING. CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP panic panic panic panic PAAANIIIIIC!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, 8 p.m. - Wow, that email totally turned my world upside down (totally different story that won't be shared... at least for like 30 years. It's going to take that long to look back on it and laugh). I I really want to talk to him about this... BUT if I'm right in my panic-stricken imaginings, my relationship problems are going to seem so trite and pathetic and unimportant and dumb and he'll hate me for bringing them up. That text would be so humiliating to receive: I'm sorry you're having this problem, but I have cancer. Keep your problems to yourself, honey. At least until you find out for sure if he's dying.

Several times throughout night - Wake up panic-stricken and pray he doesn't have cancer. I said so many Hail Mary's during those 8 hours when I should have been sleeping.

Monday, 9 a.m. - My big brother texts me letting me know that they're coming back from a 9 day vacation. Cue relief and a feeling of idiocy. Oh. He was on vacation. Ok. I can tell him about my trite, pathetic, unimportant, and dumb relationship problems now with a clean conscience.

Like I mentioned before, we texted sporadically back and forth for seven hours (with a break for my dentist visit and interview downtown). I cannot tell you how helpful it was. My Italian Mama tweeted him later to thank him for being the bringer of "sanity, perspective, and the epically placed cuss word."

Big brothers are so much better than superheros.


And I need to learn how to control my imagination.