In life, a person's perspective can change quickly and without warning. At five, I was the happiest child in the world, in my opinion. I had no deeper understanding of the world. I hadn't heard of stress or debt, of war or romance. Those things didn't matter. I had Mommy, Daddy, and Ashlee. And, of course, I had all of my riches. I was a wealthy girl, on my standards. I had a whopping 17 barbie dolls and 37 polly pockets. The biggest crisis I had to face was when I, tragically, got my favorite princess dress muddy. My perspective, at that point, was all rainbows and sunshine, but we all know that good things can't possibly last forever.
"Daddy, Claire said that her Daddy left and isn't coming back. Does that mean he died?" I asked, innocently.
"Well, no, Ali, that means that Claire's mommy and daddy decided that they didn't want to, well, they didn't want to be married anymore. Sometimes that happens to people." My dad responded.
"Are you gonna run away one day, too, Daddy?" I asked.
"No, sweetie, I'm going to stay right here with you."
"Pinky promise?" I stuck out my finger.
"Pinky promise." Dad wrapped his big finger over my small, pink one.
My Dad clearly forgot about this promise the moment he left my room, because within the next few years, the fighting only worsened. My parents divorced a month before my tenth birthday.
"Mom, Dan said that people who's parents are divorced are more likely to have failing marriages in the future. Is that true?" I asked one day after coming home from seventh grade.
"Yes, that is statistically correct."
"So you have cursed me. Thanks."
"Honey, you will be fine. Just marry someone you love."
"Okay. But what if it's not okay?"
"It will be."
