Maple Syrup and Grilled Cheese

The tears that seep into my pillow are not the same as when I'd lose control and fall off of my bike. They're abandoned. You're no longer there to patch the wounds or dry the tears. The memories I carry--- My first grade Christmas concert. You sat front row. The video recording mom took incriminates you saying, “That's my babygirl,” as I come onto the stage. They are nothing bu memories of what used to be, and now... are filled with instability. You left, I cried.

* * *

The constant yelling between you two went on for hours at a time. I'd shut myself away in what you would call “my dungeon.” I never really understood that statement. Seeing how it was really the only place I could be freed of the battlefield downstairs. The living room was more of a dungeon when you were home than my room would ever be.

The way I see it, a lie goes a long way. It damages the connection between two people. Fractures the “perfect picture” and sends just another fragment flying. When I had heard mom on the phone that night I finally understood that there can only be so many cracks until everything shatters. Through her whispers and muffled laughs, it was hard to understand what she was saying. But what I did hear, said enough...

“Maybe we can see each other tonight? He won't be home until real late and the kids will be asleep.” It was quiet for a few seconds and I could only assume whoever was on the other line was talking.

“Yeah.. I know it's wrong. But the love just isn't as strong as it used to be.”

“Reasons? God, I don't know. How about the financial debt, or the lack of communication. Oh here ya go. When we have sex, I have to fake the orgasms. I never used to have to. The connection just isn't there anymore Todd.” By this point, I've recorded 74 seconds of conversation. Knowing my mom, this minute and fourteen seconds will only ever get to my dad if I show him.

“Fine. Don't come over. Maybe some other time. He IS out of town Wednesday night.”

“K. See ya then baby.” My mom's hung up the phone and I feel my heart beating out of my chest. Baby? Whoever this Todd guy is, I hate him already.

I knew everything was going to hell the second she hung up the phone. You get used to the daily fighting after a while. But this, this conversation, was stepping it to a whole knew level. And for the first time, I realized things were going to go crashing downhill faster than Todd supposedly can screw around with my mother.

Every minute I see her with my dad, I can only think it's just yet another minute she would rather be with her secret lover. It sickens me, almost makes me want to throw up. Something inside me says to make him listen to the recording, yet another part of me screams, “Don't be the cause of their divorce. Let him find out on his own.”

My heart breaks for my father every time I see him or even talk to him on the phone. He's the type of guy you can't help but smile around. He's the type that can always make you laugh. And yet I can't help but to know my mother's living a double life, my dad has no idea, and she doesn't think I have a clue in the world about Todd.

The fight that ended it all. The earthquake that stormed through our house is one to end all relationships. Money will get the best of you. It will tear what was, or what is “true love” apart. Money for bills, money for food. Where did this money go, when will we have enough for this? Every day these questions are thrown from my dad to my mom and then back again. And usually I'd shut myself in my room, but today I like seeing the papers fly, I like seeing words being thrashed around. And then you hear that one statement. That one thing that ends it all, “You haven's given me an orgasm in over 3 years Jerry. I'm not happy anymore.”

* * *

Looking back on everything that ever happened in our house, I can only smile when I know you've been divorced for over a year. There's no longer any turmoil or anger in the atmosphere. You deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn't have an affair. She obviously wasn't happy, and by the constant fighting neither were you. Love is something you make of it, not something that just happens. You tried until your hands were numb and your feet were sore. Seeing that separating was the best for the entire family was the smartest decision you could have made. It turned our lives from a constant battle to stress free smiles we wear every day. And for that... I thank you.