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    Ending Without Ever Beginning

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    At the age of eight I never would of thought this would happen to me, never understand why he did what he did, never accept all the lies and excuses.I was so blinded by the rage that it scarred me internally. My lack of wisdom deprived me of the relationship we would of had.

    Wake up…go to work…come home… sleep, wake up…go to work…come home…sleep, and repeat. That’s what his life became, repetitive and lifeless. I couldn’t help but think he wanted a different life for himself, something full of excitement and spunk. Instead he was stuck as husband, and a father to three little girls who called him daddy. You could even say he was bored. I could never wrap my mind around why, why he felt having a loving wife who did everything for him and a family who you would think light up his world be boring. Maybe I was too naive to understand.

    This part of my life I fail to remember, all this was was memories passed on from one to another. I don’t remember him ever leaving, I never realized his short disappearance, as if I blinked and lost three months of him in my life. His time away was nothing abstract, just a business trip to Oregon. I couldn’t help but think he needed this metal break. He could’ve used this time to come to a realization. Or help him open his eyes and see whats right in front of him. But instead he decided to betray his family.

    Finally he returns. The man that left three months comes home eager to see his family. But for some reason seems changed. He started sleeping with one eye open and stopped showing any affection to my mother. Of course I never caught on to anything, but my mother wasn’t stupid. She began watching over his shoulder and keeping track of the phone bill. She knew she was onto something, but the truth was to painful for her to handle. Instead of accusing my father she wanted to be absolutely sure so she blew it off and pretended everything was okay, but deep down she was broken.

    Eventually my mother and father fell apart. They became so distant. Shouting, cursing and yelling at each other through the phone. Just to bury the truth deep down, but it would only leave her in pain. The squeals were so loud that it made my ears vibrate on the other end of the wall. It was hard to watch the light in my mother’s eyes fade away, she trusted him with her heart. And in a million pieces shattered not acknowledging the damage he made on the way.

    My mother and father were never the same after that trip. Night after night the screaming and yelling continued as we slept, awakening my oldest sister who would place her ear against the door. She pretended to be clueless, but she understood more than she let on. Trying to protect our innocence from the truth as long as possible. Because she knew that once we found out the truth it would later cause us pain.

    Finally everything was said and done and my father put all belongings in a bag and left. I didn’t know how to feel, I’ve never been the type to show my emotions, the only emotion I’ve ever had was fury and anger. Which was all towards my father, but I didn’t know how to express the way I felt.

    Me being so young I felt like no one would give me the answers I expected, but all I had was questions. I just wanted to ask how could he just leave like that? How could he not want to fight for his family he worked so hard to support? Were we not good enough for him? I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just work it out for us. Why did they have to hurt us like this. We began asking questions, so my mother sat me and my two sisters down to explain. My father was invited to this family meeting, but his shame got in the way of him looking his little girls in the face. So my mother explained to us how; “mommy and daddy aren’t getting along anymore.”

    That was it, point. Blank. Period. Nothing more nothing less. She didn’t want to give details even though we already knew all we needed to know.

    Once my dad got his own place, we would see him every Saturday. We would visit him for three hours if he was lucky. My mother deprived us from time with my father. He never complained because he understood where my mother was coming from, and wouldn’t dare to fight with her any longer. We visited him more times than we could keep track of. But one time was odd, there was a woman in his apartment. We looked at our father confused. She interrupted the awkward silence ready to greet us. She introduced herself as; “your dad’s friend from Oregon” Even though we were young, we weren’t foolish. She continued to show up every once in a while.

    Time passed she never left, but every time she returned there was something odd about her, it looked as if her stomach keep getting bigger and bigger. My father later announced that she was pregnant, and that we would be having a little brother in the fall of 2011. The following day we went back to tell my mother the good news, but to her it was more of betrayal. The mother that I once knew was gone, she changed. The truth was more painful than she could ever have imagined.

    I couldn’t help but feel as if it was my fault. Even though deep down I knew it wasn’t my fault. I was so devastated that I felt there was no one else to blame but myself. The only way I could cope was to take up role to prove to my parents that I wasn’t a child any longer. Which pressured me to grow up quicker. Learning to not be selfish because my family needed me to not only take care of myself, but be a role model to my sisters so they can look up to someone who had their priorities straight. I felt obligated to help out, I wanted to relieve my mom of the stress she was dealing with. It was challenging to live up to expectations that weren’t even realistic. Till this day I still feel the pressure I put on myself to be the best daughter. Throughout my years of experience this has shown my parents that my maturity, and responsibility has prepared me for adulthood

    My mother and father finally went to court and were granted joint custody of us, the agreement was that my sisters and I would go back and forth between two houses and switch every week on Sunday. The arrangement was the most logistic decision. But mentally it was draining. It added a pressure that none of us needed at that age. We basically lived out of our duffle bags for years, not being able to call our homes home. My two sisters found it easy to adjust, but all this did was cause me to act out. Putting a strain on both households.

    Time passes and relationships blossom. My mom found a man who has two sons, and my dad found a woman with a daughter and upcoming son. And just like that two big families living in two seperate houses. Making me feel like an outcast, because fitting in was never an option for me. It felt like a burning desire waiting to unleash, and it did. In order to ease the pain I had to express the way I felt causing me to fill up with absolute hatred for everyone and everything.

    My anger for the new people in my life put stains on both relationships. Arguments between both couples starting and ended with me. I couldn’t help myself, whatever I felt I said not acknowledging the stress and pain I was causing everybody. This went on for months. Years. It even got to the point where my parents didn’t know what to do with me, they constantly talked about taking me to a counselor to express my emotions. But I felt “only people with problems go to the console.” so I ignored every ask.

    Since then i’ve matured. I realized how painful it was to watch my parents try to figure me out. Nowadays im no longer the problem child, i’ve learned to bottle up my emotions and express them when appropriate. I try to be the daughter they’ve always wanted me to be, but that still comes with challenges *cough* *cough* grades. Even though my challenging lifestyle has changed me for the better. I have become more mature, and I learned to just be myself. Many people go through the same situation that I went through when they are young. Even though it was a tough time in my life, it has made me a much stronger human being, physically and mentally.

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    Ending Without Ever Beginning. (2023, Feb 09). Retrieved from https://artscolumbia.org/ending-without-ever-beginning/

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