Hi everybody! My name is Hugh. I am already nineteen years old, but I have to admit, I still feel like a victim of my parents’ divorce. Psychologists say that certain childhood trauma can haunt you for the rest of your life. They’re probably right. Anyway, my story won’t just be about this. I unintentionally got revenge on my mother for my ruined childhood, by destroying her own personal life. Or, maybe it actually was intentional. I don’t know.
My parents decided to divorce when I was eleven years old. At this age, I still wasn’t old enough to just accept it. But I was already smart enough to understand that it was. And damn it, it was a disaster. Try to imagine this: one day I lived in a normal happy family, or what I THOUGHT was a normal happy family, and the next day I found out that my father wouldn’t live with me anymore. My mom broke this news to me in the car on our way home from school. When we returned to our house, neither my dad or his stuff was there. It’s not like he ran away, it was just that my mother decided it would be better for me if everything happened quietly – you know – without a big scene or overly dramatic farewells between a father and his son. Mom, Ummm, she tried to save me in this bizarre way. As a result, I didn’t see my father again for almost two weeks – he needed some time to settle down into a new home. These two weeks seemed like an eternity for me – I was starting to think that I would never see him again! And, of course, I blamed my mother. Especially considering that she decided to hide the real reason for the divorce from me. Which is to say, she didn’t tell me that my dad was seeing another woman.
Do you see what was happening? Perhaps my mom just wanted the best for me, but as a result, I only harbored a huge grudge against her for what happened. And I have always been more attached to my father than to her. I had admired him since childhood and I still do. He’s a successful person – he has his own business, and he paid us so much in alimony that I never needed anything. He is already forty-seven years old, but I envy how well he takes care of himself. I hope I can manage to be that athletic and fit when I’m that age. My father’s relationship with the other woman – the one who was the reason my parents divorced, ultimately didn’t work out. But after that, he always dated very beautiful and stunning women, sometimes even much younger than him.
My old man is very easy going and he loves surprising me. For example, once, he picked me up after school and we talked while he was driving me home… but he suddenly made a sharp turn and went to the airport. Instead of going home, we caught the next available flight to Alaska. And all this was because, while we were talking, I mentioned that it would be nice to go fishing there together someday! I only mentioned it because I had just watched some instructional videos at school, and just like that – my dad immediately came up with one of the most unforgettable adventures of my life.
“So, compared to my dad, my mom would have to do a lot to make the same kind of impression on me. She was a pretty ordinary housewife who was busy with things like trying not to forget to buy bleach at the supermarket, rather than with cool and extraordinary ideas. When I became a little older, I realized that my mother and I had absolutely no common interests. We didn’t even watch movies together – she loved soap operas or reality shows and rarely watched anything else. Fortunately, she never objected when I spent time with my father. I still got my share of adventure, but I dreamed of moving to his house instead. Unfortunately, this was impossible – my dad said that he wouldn’t be able to take proper care of me because he was working all the time.
Now I realize that maybe my mother wasn’t always so boring. I think she changed right after the divorce – she was probably depressed or something like that. Maybe she even blamed herself for letting our family fall apart. It probably hurt her to find out about her former husband’s personal life and she might also be ashamed of herself – she was still alone and she wasn’t as young or alluring as my father’s new girlfriends. To me, this is the obvious reason that she started dating Mr. Blythe – desperation.
Mr. Blythe was a guy who moved into the house next door a few years ago. He was about the same age as my dad, but he was his exact opposite. He was short and fat and had a large round bald head, which literally started to shine when Mr. Blythe got nervous. And he got nervous pretty often, especially when I was around…
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