I seldom write about my family. It’s not that it’s because I don’t love them or anything, because that couldn’t be any further from the truth. I don’t really know why I don’t, it’s not like their lives aren’t mind-numbingly boring either. It’s just, I don’t really write about my family. I suppose my family life is something I’d rather keep out of my writing, and that there are more interesting or attempted humorous things to write about instead.
To cut to the chase, and what’s been ill-timely, eating at my mind for the last few days is that my parents are debating on separating. An actual legal divorce is probably unlikely, since neither of them would genuinely want to engage in the very American act of having to go through the work to make it happen when instead, my dad could just simply move out.
I’d like to think that as I near 30, news like this would be a bit easier to digest than at a volatile teenager’s age, but I’m finding out witnessing my own emotions and thoughts, that it’s still not any less thrilling. I suppose I can rationalize both parties better than if I were a kid, and I won’t be trying to blame myself for anything, but I’m still feeling a bit upset by the circumstances.
My parents were an arranged marriage, so at the very consolation, it’s not like they probably were ever genuinely in love at any point in their lives, to where they tragically fell out of love in recent years; it’s not something I’ll probably ever know, nor really aspire to find out directly from either party. I grew up somewhat of a mama’s boy, so I’m fairly certain I know where I’d instinctually go to visit whenever I go up to Virginia, and my relationship with my dad has always been somewhat tumultuous growing up; not the least bit hostile, but just simply distanced. I thought was getting better in recent years, which apparently doesn’t seem to be the case, seeing as how this is all hitting me out of the blue.
The story is that my dad’s unhappy. It’s selfish of me to not wish this separation, so that I didn’t have to exert the effort of visiting two parental units instead of the luxury of just going into one home, and seeing both of them, especially at the sake of his happiness. Ultimately, whatever my dad wants to do, he is free to do, and it’s my choice that it’s what I’d want him to do, if that’s what would make him happiest. But even as push towards 30, it still saddens me the thought of them going their separate ways, and knowing that now I’m yet another person in the United States with loveless, separated parents.
The worst part about all of this? Neither my mom or my dad has any idea that I know about this. Neither my mom or my dad has spoken to me about any of this. All of this information that I have now, I heard from my sister. Being the youngest in the family, apparently, I’m still being walked around on eggshells, and being kept in the dark about this whole situation. My sister implores me to try to talk my dad out of it, which I know would probably be a futile effort, since neither of my parents genuinely listen to any advice I have, when I have it for them. Regardless, such an effort is kind of difficult to initiate when I haven’t even been informed about any of this in the first place.
I could call them up, and take the initiative, but honestly, I really just don’t want to. I don’t feel like speaking to them at the moment, but they’re more than welcome to call and shoot the shit if they choose to. Lately, as juvenile as this may sound, I’m a little irritated with the preceding-generational grown-ups in my life right now, and would rather selfishly concentrate on my own fucking mundane, with sprinkles of inconveniences, life at the moment.
Had to get that off my chest. Either it’s really bothering me to become brog-worthy, or I’m out of rainy-day drafts that I could easily post. Your choice. Regardless, back to the regularly scheduled program.
