Disclaimer: this entry is very personal to me and I'm not trying to write a sob story or anything , but sometimes it just helps to write out my feelings, you know? This is more like a journal entry. I promise my other entries won't be like this, this is just kind of how I deal with things: by writing out how I'm feeling to try to discover the root of what's going on in my head. Somehow, it really works. I always feel better by the end. Anyway, if you read this, I apologise because these are my unedited, unfiltered emotions poured out onto a page. At the very least, I hope someone reads this and it helps them in some way. Thank you!

Here at my dad's house, everything seemed different. It was like a new life. An opposite world. The transition between my two worlds was always hard. I tried to explain the difficulties of two lives and two families to my friends, but who was I kidding? They could never understand, much as they listened and tried. Their parents were happily married under one roof. I don't think they knew how much I envied that. Yes, I knew I needed to be thankful and make the best of the situation, but it had never been easy for me. I was always missing something. Sometimes I cried at night simply because I missed my dad. I was always burdened with the notion that I didn't have a real father because I rarely got to see him and he didn't get to be involved in a lot of my life. It wasn't that he didn't try, there were areas in which he definitely made an effort, but it was impossible for him to be with me in my everyday life.
I knew he loved me, and yet sometimes I doubted it because it didn't seem like he was fighting to spend time with us or even to spend our birthdays with us like he used to.
Whenever I talked about it to anyone , I felt as if my speech was just becoming matter of fact and nonchalant, because I didn't want anyone to know just how much it affected me at times.
I'm certainly not saying that i wish I could go back and rewrite history so that the divorce never happened. Then I wouldn't have the many things I've gained through this experience, like my new siblings. I try to be positive, I try to pray about it and ask God to give me peace about it all, but it's an issue that I don't think ever stops bringing pain and regret to those involved. There will always be a void.
The worst part is that none of my friends are really in the same situation, so they can't understand. I've talked about it before with them, and they, being as sweet and caring as they are, give all their sympathy, but I always feel as if they are questioning why this is such a big deal. Why would something like this bring so many secret tears and unfixable sorrow?
How I wish I could connect these two seemingly opposite worlds and erase the pain that's been brought on by such a sin.