Huh?

When I was 9 years of age my parents divorced. 

I remember how confused I was trying to understand what was happening between my Mom and Dad. I didn't understand why they yelled or cried. I didn't understand why my Dad stopped coming around. I didn't understand a lot about what was going on in my life at the age of 9. Fortunately, as time passed I began to understand how I was affected by their relationship's death. 

My Mom and Dad are not friends. . .Whatsoever. I guess this took time getting used to. I will never forget how much I blamed myself for their issues. I will never forget the emotions that I wish I understood at the time. I have never forgotten the feeling of loosing someone you love. This was when I developed my first insecurity. 

Trust.

I don't really remember many times when I had family to turn to. It was either my Dad, Mom or Sister. And there was never a good day with them. I was satisfied with the consistency of being alone. It became pretty easy to cope knowing that I should expect nothing from my parents. I don't know what I'm talking about. . .

I over thought a lot around the time it all happened.

With my parents always disagreeing, there was no room for love. There was surely no room for me. My Dad was a working man. My Mom was sad. I guess I just reacted how every 9 year old would react.

Right?

I mean, it wasn't my Mom or Dads fault. I guess their death was the result of two opposites that did not attract. Sometimes, I honestly think this is all my fault. But then sometimes I just give in. I don't really know what I would do with myself knowing that I could have been killer of a beautiful relationship.

Right?

I don't know what I'm talking about. . .

I never did.