Time Heals Every Wound | Teen Ink

Time Heals Every Wound

February 1, 2012
By imckenzie BRONZE, Everson, Washington
imckenzie BRONZE, Everson, Washington
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

My parents divorced when I was ten. As much as I say it didn’t affect me, it did. More than anyone will ever know. I was constantly watching sappy love movies all the time with a happy ending. The Notebook for example. I wondered throughout the whole movie if my parents were ever like that. And if they were, why couldn’t they stay like that? People say things happen for a reason, when will I find the reason?

The fighting was constant between my parents. Nothing like today. I don’t know what my dad did to set my mom off the edge. And he didn’t just do that, he pushed her off the edge. My mom was flushed with anger, every vain was popped out on her body.

“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” she screamed for a good hour.

My dad said nothing as she threw everything he owns out the door. I sensed his embarrassment, and my mom didn’t give a crap who was watching. I was wondering when the arguing would end and when they’d make up. The look on my sister’s face told me there would be no making up. My sister was barley even home now days and I don’t blame her. I decided to look for Kyle for comfort. His head placed between his legs on the porch. He was crying. I slowly walked towards my brother, regretting it as soon as I got to him. Tears began to stream down my cheeks. Kyle gave me a look I haven’t seen before.

“You don’t even know why your crying do you?!” his voice was shaking but had the sense of rage.

He stormed off and I didn’t see him the rest of the night. I sat on the porch asking myself the same question, why was I crying?

Don’t get me wrong, my parents fighting wasn’t a fun thing to listen to on a daily basis. And yeah, I was hurt that my parents made us kid’s childhood hell. But what’s a ten year old to do? Crying wouldn’t help the situation and surely wouldn’t solve it. That day I sucked my tears right back where they came from and decided I will move on from this.

From that day, I stayed out of my parents business. I even removed myself from my siblings. Then one day my dad left. He gathered his stuff and left us. I never asked why, that’d just cause more problems than needed. Each day I acted as if I didn’t even notice he was gone. My mom made a schedule stating that my siblings and I would stay with my dad every other weekend. Kyle and I went every time we were supposed to. Mikaela didn’t show up once. Since my dad didn’t have a home yet, he was living with his parents. About 100 feet from my grandparents is a little green house. Nothing special. My dad took me there one day and said

“So this is my new home, our new home.”

As I looked around the house, which by the way had a very unique smell, I wasn’t okay with it. But I would never admit that to him.

After a weekend with my dad, he dropped Kyle and I back with our mom. My dad followed us inside. Something he hasn’t done in a couple of months. I knew it was going to be fight night. Ding ding ding. My parents moved their arguing to the garage, which just happens to be directly below my room. Kyle got blankets and made a bed for us on my floor. We sat wide awake listening intently to them bicker about every little thing without saying a word or moving an inch. I feel as if we were both looking for answers that weren’t there in the first place.

Four years later I took a wrong turn on the wrong road. I didn’t hesitate to blame every mile of my mistakes on my parents. My problems weren’t mine anymore, they were theirs. My mom made the great conclusion that I needed therapy. All three of us, my dad, mom and me would sit in this room talking to a women we have no knowledge of. While all three of them discussed why I was so depressed all the time I wanted to shout

“Hey dad ever thought when you left it isn’t just Kyle you’re leaving? Mom, ever think just cause Mikaela would rather be at a party then home, I’m not around?”
I felt like saying it then, and I feel like saying it now.

I know life is extremely unfair, that’s why I am where I am today. I’ve accepted what happened to me. People might think that just because the divorce tore our family apart, it broke me. But it didn’t. I’m not going to end this story by saying I'm thankful for what happened to me or anything. Going through this struggle every day isn’t easy. I’m bothered when my friend’s parents are together. I’m bothered I have to switch holidays off and on with my parents. I’m even bothered that I’m so bothered by a thing that happened six years ago. But the one thing I will say, is time heals every wound. I’m done blaming my dad for making my mom so mad. I’m done blaming my mom for giving up. I’ve come to the conclusion that sometimes your own happiness is more important than making it work. I wish I could sit here and say my kids will never go through something as cruel as a divorce, but I can’t tell the future. After all, things do happen for a reason.


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