What My Parents Taught Me

The happiest memory I have is from when I was three.

I sat outside having a picnic with my parents,

Running and laughing as the sun shined through the trees

and eventually went down over the horizon.

Thats my only memory of my parents together.

By the time I was four my mother was yelling

and running out of the house

and taking me with her.

By the time I was five,

My whole life was a series of court dates

That needed to be met

whether I knew it or not.

Since then I have been forced to watch

One half of my family foreclose house after house

And struggle financially

While I watched the other half rot internally.

Since then I have been forced to live

As the people I care about the most

Live in hate.

Since then I've been forced to listen

To arguing night after night for a decade:

IT'S YOUR MOM'S FAULT

IT'S YOUR DAD'S FAULT

IT'S YOUR MOM'S FAULT

IT'S YOUR DAD'S FAULT

But could it be my fault?

Could I do something to stop them

From pitting themselves against each other?

Or against me?

Could I somehow fix it so that

When my sister comes to my room crying

I don't have to tell her

"There's nothing we can do"

"There's nothing I can do"

Could I change it so that I don't feel powerless in my own homes?

I'm sorry - houses.

Home implies I belong

Home implies I matter.

Home implies I'm not an object to be won or lost.

Home implies I'm not a pawn in someone's game.

Or a symbol of power over the other team's white flag.

Proof one side was right and the other wrong.

Proof that one side is better

But that's not true.

How can I pick between the two people that created me

The two halves of my being?

The two halves of my soul?

How can I stand up in a court room

And tell one parent:

"I love you more"

or

"I love you more"

Love should not be about that.

Love should not be about destroying each other's lives

Love should not be about scarring a child.

But if there is one thing my parents taught me from a very young age

It's that

Love Isn't Real.