I just had a conversation regarding the divorce with my mother and sister, which turned out upsetting to all parties. It's getting difficult to believe. It's frightening to believe in something you hold so much weight in. It hurts to believe, not knowing if believing is truth on its own. It's sad, feeling that nobody thinks you're worthy. It's heartbreaking, hearing your mother determined to leave a past you've lived with, with her, with your sister fighting to reconcile a broken marriage that is not her proble to begin with. It's warped and twisted, hearing your sister break down in tears trying to drive a point across that divorce is just not the solution to anything. It's riddling, wanting your mother to be happy and at the same time not wanting to desert your father into an abyss of loneliness. It's surrealism in its most painful phase, when you know there's still hope but nobody's willing to risk being hurt any further. It's breaking my heart, having to sit here and getting further used to this motion of damage.

So yes, it's hard, being here and having to write endlessly about a dilemma I cannot do anything about.

Please tell me you'll love me longer than they did, please tell me you'll love me better than they loved, please tell me you'll never walk away from me and not turn back, please tell me you'll never repeat this nightmare on me with us, please tell me that you're staying for good, please tell me that this is going to last. Because I believe in us, and I need you.