March of the False-heteros (Falsettos)

III. Love Isn't Blind, It's Just an Asshole

III.

Jason

Something interesting about ages has recently crossed my mind. When you turn twelve, you're actually on your thirteenth year of life. And when your turn twenty-nine, you're actually on your thirtieth year of life. A baby only turns one after a year has passed. So in my thirteen years of living, I've found out many things about parents.

The number one thing about parents is that they like to withhold the truth. It's not technically called a lie, but it's something similar. So it came as quite as a nasty shock for me when my mother told me she'd divorced my father and that he and Whizzer were moving out and getting a small apartment on the other side of town. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. I am now a son of divorce but I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.

I won't come home to Whizzer anymore. And that really sucked, because I'd gotten into a routine. Wake up early and then wake up my mother. Whizzer and my father would be fine to wake up themselves. Get ready for school... Be bored all day, and come home to Whizzer sitting on the couch and watching baseball. Then my father would come home and probably get mad that dinner wasn't ready (even though he should be expecting it never to be done by now). My mother would come home later and help Whizzer with the dinner. I know she is upset about that. She believes she is supposed to be making the dinner, and Whizzer has taken that from her. She hasn't really had a lot of time to us because she always seems to be somewhere else, and I know it is all three of us that she needs to get away from.

She hides it well, but I can tell she misses my father. Seeing him and Whizzer together must make her feel sick, so it's understandable why she wants them to leave. But that doesn't mean that I won't miss Whizzer and my father, mostly Whizzer.

When I got home from school, they had already packed. Whizzer was dressed in a light blue-colored polo shirt and long trousers that seemed to fit him just right. It was amazing how everything fit him perfectly; nothing he wore was ever too tight or too loose. My father was dressed in a button-down plaid shirt and a green jacket. Less casual that Whizzer but not exactly professional. An interesting set of clothing for the both of them.

"Hey, kid," my father tells me as I walk in the door. I offer him a smile only because he's leaving. He will be gone soon and I will be a child of divorce. And it's his fault. No, it's everyone's fault. Everyone could have done their best to have done a little bit better. And then Whizzer and my father would not be leaving my mother and me alone. We would all be one, happy, tight-knit family with no flaws.

But instead, my father is moving away. Whizzer is moving away. My mother is staying. I am staying. We're a tight-knit family split into two unhappy parts.

My mother comes over and grasps my shoulder, smiling gently. She looks upset and I try, in vain, to figure out why. Isn't this what she wanted? She wanted my father and Whizzer to move away, right? She's so confusing. Whizzer is faking a smile too. They all are. They're all upset, but I don't understand why. It was all their own faults. Nobody asked me how I felt about the divorce. Twelve is too young to decide any aspect of your life. Everything would be decided for me.

But that's not what I want. I want things to be like a chess game. I want to decide my next move. I what to be able to see what happens three moves ahead. I don't want to be shocked by a parents' divorce. I want to see exactly where my enemy is and calculate their next move. I don't want to be shocked by my father's moving out. I want to be given a chance to win. I don't want to learn about how my father was cheating on my mother... With another man no less.