Nothing's Impossible

Effects of the Pain Growing Up

*Edited*

Being a part of a divorced family can harm anyone. It still harmed me. My father left us when I was six, married another woman, and had another daughter. He didn't try to contact us until one morning, a week ago, saying he wants to see me. My mom told him no and they argued over the phone for two hours before my mom hung up angrily.

I don't want to see him or his new unbroken family. He doesn't know me, I'm not that same, sweet innocent girl he used to know. I'm fifteen now, and it's been nine years since he had talked or even seen me.

Neither of them understand. My parents had fallen out of love, fought until I was six, and then divorced. Even though I know it was for the best, I wish they knew how much it hurt and is still hurting me. It hurts me to see my mom depressed, drinking, and falling for unworthy guys over and over. It kills me to hear that my father had another little girl with another woman and not leaving them behind like he did us.

I have my father's grey-blue eyes and my mother's long blonde hair. So, on my face, they're still together.

Growing up, Mom always told me to never give up, no matter what. But, how do you expect me to listen when you and Dad gave up on each other?

Was it my fault? Did I play a part in this? I brush it off as nonsense, but how could I ever know? You both selfishly saved your worlds.

But, in the end, you shattered mines.

Now when I come home from school and Mom's at work, when I think about how our family could've been if my parents never fell out of love, never divorced, and Dad never left, I could feel my insides and knees sink. So I let my back slide down the wall and sit on the floor against the wall, letting it support me. I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like. I thought heartbreak was me, eating alone at our dinner table because mom was working or on a date, and my Dad had left. That was nothing. This, knowing it could be better, this was heartbreak.

The pain in your chest, the ache behind your eyes, the knowing that things will never be the way you begged for it to be. It's all relative, I suppose. You think you know love, you think you know real pain, but you don't.

You don't know anything.