...A blunder of events.
Last night my mum called me to tell me that she finally broke it out to my dad, and he agreed on divorcing her.
Part of me, that was always sandwiched between them (and acted like the last piece of string that actually connected them in any way possible), that part of me sighed and felt "Oh, finally." and in a way, almost felt relieved that the divorce was official.
I no longer have to lie to my dad. I no longer have to make up alibis for my mum.
My dad had faults. But so did my mum. In all honesty, it was about time they went their separate ways. Otherwise, no one was going to be happy.
But then, as selfish as I felt, I started wondering what would become of me. I, still, technically was both my mum and dad's child. There's no legal binding between them, but I share both of their blood, and legally, I'm their "child". I know my age would make me an "adult", but no matter what, I still am their "kid". Part of me is scared that he'd just yell "fuck it" and abandon me as a whole. We didn't have a good relationship in the past couple years as a father and child, and I feel like this is going to give it a good blow.
Then the rage that I've been accumulating towards my mum is getting larger and larger by the minute. I was controlling it well, but it's becoming a little unbearable. Now you're trying to make me spit out words from my mouth that I don't want to for your benefit? Again? No, I've done enough of that. You were the one who taught me not to lie to people, yet you constantly pleaded me to lie to my own father.
I don't fucking care about your happiness any more.
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