I was meandering down memory lane and stumbeled upon this written letter I wrote to my parents last August when they were on the verge of divorce. Cut to a year later and they are still together, and that fateful day in August seems quite exaggerated. It's funny how mother time plays mind tricks on us. This is the most private entry I've posted but I feel it will help the inevitable healing process. I remember standing in the living room reading this to my father, hands shaking and trembeling but eyes alert and focused. I can't recall a single tear though. It's this sole piece of writing that has influenced my current cyinical state of being in relationships. It's all a learning process, every single second. My parent's are incredible individuals with the most incredible worth ethic I have ever seen. No matter how I old I am, I credit all my future accomplishments and endevors to both of them. So here it is, and here I go.
"Sick game"
August 7th, 2007
As I am writing this fighting words are being shot back and forth from my parent's mouths like some sort of sick game. It's 12:30 PM and not one soul is asleep. I haven't been inspired to write in only God knows how long. The last time I actually sat down and wrote a thought provoking entry was back when I had sanity, oh some 3 1/2 months ago. I can't believe it has taken such a traumatic event such as a divorce to allow my brain to string together a sad excuse for a journal. Well you see, my parent's inability to maintain a healthy relationship has never been a secret to me or my sister's, it was mutually understood, (well for me anyway). This unhealthy relationship is the sole reason marriage is of no interest to me. Not now, not ever. I sit here in my mother's office in utter disbelief that it has gotten this far and that my father's breakdowns have become so routine now. My mom is the stoic one, showing little to no emotion in the time of crisis. My sister's are such troopers and I know they will succeed to no end. I don't want my sister's to reach the point that I have over time concluded to. I don't want them to think of marriage as a jail sentence or an ongoing battle. I want them to love life and not take anything for granted. I fear for me it's too late. I am a timebomb ready to combust. I think of love in such a cyinical point of view, rarely seeing any good that comes from it. I don't want to have this state of mind, I don't want to fear love, I want to embrace it. My parent's have instilled a fear in the very corner of our fragile hearts. We need to know that love can overcome all. I need to know love can overcome all.
*Cue the violins.
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