So it's been ten years.
Ten years ago today, my father left the house where I'd grown up without telling my mother he wanted a divorce.
The three of us- my mother, my sister and I- were all shocked. My mother hadn't known about this, and neither had my sister and I. Before my father had left, I'd taken my life for granted. I thought I'd be in the blue house I grew up in forever, that I'd have my family together and always forever. Like a lot of naive little kids, I took my life for granted. And afterwards, what followed were some of the most turbulent years in my life. But by the time I was sixteen years old, things started smoothing out for the better.
I still remember being ten years old, a fourth-grader, and coming home from elementary school with my sister, then nine, and finding out the news. We were so devastated. I was scared.
Today? I'm twenty years old and a sophomore in college. I'm not feeling scared at all. In fact, I'm feeling rather accomplished, despite sore fingers, since I finished some work on a jacket for a cosplay I'm wearing this summer.
I wish I could teleport in time, take back my ten-year-old self from that day with me to the present day. I'd hug her, tell her that things will work out. I'd explain to her why Dad did what he did, and why it was wrong. I'd tell her about my cosplay, about my friends here at school, about what I'm doing. I wouldn't tell her much about writing yet, since she has yet to discover that- it's less than six months away for her in her time. But I'd tell her that I'm studying books in college, and that I want to work with books after I graduate.
My ten-year-old self would be so awed by me now. She'd think I was so cool and confident. But we're the same- only ten years and a whole lot of emotional growth has happened.
Shit, this means I'm a grown-up now, right? D:
The three of us- my mother, my sister and I- were all shocked. My mother hadn't known about this, and neither had my sister and I. Before my father had left, I'd taken my life for granted. I thought I'd be in the blue house I grew up in forever, that I'd have my family together and always forever. Like a lot of naive little kids, I took my life for granted. And afterwards, what followed were some of the most turbulent years in my life. But by the time I was sixteen years old, things started smoothing out for the better.
I still remember being ten years old, a fourth-grader, and coming home from elementary school with my sister, then nine, and finding out the news. We were so devastated. I was scared.
Today? I'm twenty years old and a sophomore in college. I'm not feeling scared at all. In fact, I'm feeling rather accomplished, despite sore fingers, since I finished some work on a jacket for a cosplay I'm wearing this summer.
I wish I could teleport in time, take back my ten-year-old self from that day with me to the present day. I'd hug her, tell her that things will work out. I'd explain to her why Dad did what he did, and why it was wrong. I'd tell her about my cosplay, about my friends here at school, about what I'm doing. I wouldn't tell her much about writing yet, since she has yet to discover that- it's less than six months away for her in her time. But I'd tell her that I'm studying books in college, and that I want to work with books after I graduate.
My ten-year-old self would be so awed by me now. She'd think I was so cool and confident. But we're the same- only ten years and a whole lot of emotional growth has happened.
Shit, this means I'm a grown-up now, right? D: