Change is of something we usually fear. It is having to accommodate to something that you have not been used to or shown in your past life. It is good or it is bad, but for a fact it is not be easy.  It is something I had to experience to feel the true meaning of.

Memories of the past flashed in my head. My father first teaching me how to ride my bike; me falling off every second, but him being there to scoop me off of my feet instantly; my mother kissing him so gentle, so sweet. This was all I could remember, or it was all I wanted to remember.

The first time I heard my parents argue, I knew things were out of place. I began to see tears that I have never witnessed roll down my mothers porcelain skin. I no longer saw love in my mothers eyes when she looked at my father, only regret. As a young girl I would surely never understand the change that was occurring in front of my eyes. Before I knew it my father was living in a separate home than me; my brother and I would visit every other weekend in hope that we could reunite our long lost parents. Yet my mother hid in shame, never wanting to face him.

Days turned into weekends, and weekends turned into months that I saw less and less of my father. Holidays were spent with only my brother and my mother. I was beginning to miss the man who raised me even more; I couldn’t bare the loneliness in my mother’s eyes much longer.

I would lye asleep wishing that my parent’s love for each other would soon return, but that wish became only that. Something I would never witness again. My mother shortly found another man who would soon satisfy her deeply. As I grew older I despised him and the fact that he was nothing like my father, and he never would be. 

Years passed and I lived in dread, wishing a man who could resemble a “father figure” for me didn’t raise me. I realized my mother would not give up his love for anything. Not even her own children. Long nights of wet tears clouded my thoughts and sunk deeper than skin. I soon lost the concept of what love was. My biggest enemy wouldn’t become the man who my mother fell in love with, nor would it become my father. It was something I wish on nobody to experience. It was life changing. It was divorce.