Old times? Something just popped on my mind again. Still, with grammar errors and those grammar nazis will hate but at least i am trying to write up something here. <3 p="">
I am what they called 'broken-home child'. Yeah, it's me. My mom and dad divorced since i was a little girl, when i was eight if i'm not mistaken. Long time ago. That time, i knew that something really bad was happening, but i didn't really sure what it was.. The only thing i knew was, "I will not live with my mom and dad in the same time" which is a bad thing for a little girl like me. I remember clearly, one day.. Me, my sister and my friend tried to hide an envelope (or whatever it was, we thought it had something to do with the divorce) we tried to hide it behind my mom's toilette and hoped that our parents wouldn't need to break up. Until the day came, i was happily playing roller blade in front of our house with my friends then my dad came home, asked me to stop playing and that he wanted to say something to me. We walked to our bedroom and then my daddy said "Me and your mom won't live together anymore, you will live with mom but we can still have sleep overs" I remember it so bad, i was crying. As an eight years old girl, which couldn't really understand things like that, i was crying. I was crying when i was still standing on my roller blades, i was holding onto the wall and wiped my tears away, maybe i tried to be strong or i just didn't understand at all. The only question was "Why?" and it felt really hurt. I didn't really remember what was after that but then we moved to our grandparents' house. Me and my sister, but my brother was still staying with my dad. My little brother was my biggest enemy that time, he was all naughty and mean, maybe because we've been taken care differently. That was hard, i've experienced things like... My dad went missing, and my mom struggled so hard to pay for our school tuition, we lived in slums with a lot of neighbors who gossiped about us, and i was in elementary school that time, my last year. Ah.... I'm writing this and i feel so sad just to remember those times... The smell of the house, the road, the neighbors... It was like a crazy stage in my life. Then when i was reaching Junior High School, we moved again to our grandparents' house. I had better life to be honest, just like the time before we moved to the slums. Reason why we moved to the slums because it was the nearest to my school and we had no money so my mom decided to rent a house there, and our grandparents' house was so far away from my school. I remember my grandma said "You should study hard, prove the world that you can, show your dad that you could be smart even though you're not living with him" and by that, i was studying hard all day. Even, i was having a bit hard time in school too, not a lot of Junior High School friends which still in contact now...or even that time haha. Ah... my past, bittersweet. I always got good marks, yeah, i was a smarty gal that time! But leaving Junior High School, knowing lots of High School friends, my life changed. I played a lot so i wasn't that smart anymore but average....haha. That was actually a highlight of my past life that i suddenly remember this late night. I'm still crying if i remember those hard times, and really grateful for having a life like i'm living today. I believe that God will not let us suffer too long, God will always help. And actually i, as a child of humans, i really want to live in a complete family. A dad, mom, living in the same house with me, having some weekend hang outs together, stuff family do. But i can't. I'm 20 years old, and i experienced family outing only 8 years, and that's okay for me. I might be more lucky than someone else, i will just thank God for what i have. And... being a broken home child is not something that you can always relate to negativity. I'm highly against that cause me, and lots of broken home children out there are shining in our ways, in a good way. Even when our 'home' broken, we still have heart. And our heart is a home to our soul and to our life, use that well! Cause no matter what, we still the children of our parents, separated or not.
That was me.
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I am what they called 'broken-home child'. Yeah, it's me. My mom and dad divorced since i was a little girl, when i was eight if i'm not mistaken. Long time ago. That time, i knew that something really bad was happening, but i didn't really sure what it was.. The only thing i knew was, "I will not live with my mom and dad in the same time" which is a bad thing for a little girl like me. I remember clearly, one day.. Me, my sister and my friend tried to hide an envelope (or whatever it was, we thought it had something to do with the divorce) we tried to hide it behind my mom's toilette and hoped that our parents wouldn't need to break up. Until the day came, i was happily playing roller blade in front of our house with my friends then my dad came home, asked me to stop playing and that he wanted to say something to me. We walked to our bedroom and then my daddy said "Me and your mom won't live together anymore, you will live with mom but we can still have sleep overs" I remember it so bad, i was crying. As an eight years old girl, which couldn't really understand things like that, i was crying. I was crying when i was still standing on my roller blades, i was holding onto the wall and wiped my tears away, maybe i tried to be strong or i just didn't understand at all. The only question was "Why?" and it felt really hurt. I didn't really remember what was after that but then we moved to our grandparents' house. Me and my sister, but my brother was still staying with my dad. My little brother was my biggest enemy that time, he was all naughty and mean, maybe because we've been taken care differently. That was hard, i've experienced things like... My dad went missing, and my mom struggled so hard to pay for our school tuition, we lived in slums with a lot of neighbors who gossiped about us, and i was in elementary school that time, my last year. Ah.... I'm writing this and i feel so sad just to remember those times... The smell of the house, the road, the neighbors... It was like a crazy stage in my life. Then when i was reaching Junior High School, we moved again to our grandparents' house. I had better life to be honest, just like the time before we moved to the slums. Reason why we moved to the slums because it was the nearest to my school and we had no money so my mom decided to rent a house there, and our grandparents' house was so far away from my school. I remember my grandma said "You should study hard, prove the world that you can, show your dad that you could be smart even though you're not living with him" and by that, i was studying hard all day. Even, i was having a bit hard time in school too, not a lot of Junior High School friends which still in contact now...or even that time haha. Ah... my past, bittersweet. I always got good marks, yeah, i was a smarty gal that time! But leaving Junior High School, knowing lots of High School friends, my life changed. I played a lot so i wasn't that smart anymore but average....haha. That was actually a highlight of my past life that i suddenly remember this late night. I'm still crying if i remember those hard times, and really grateful for having a life like i'm living today. I believe that God will not let us suffer too long, God will always help. And actually i, as a child of humans, i really want to live in a complete family. A dad, mom, living in the same house with me, having some weekend hang outs together, stuff family do. But i can't. I'm 20 years old, and i experienced family outing only 8 years, and that's okay for me. I might be more lucky than someone else, i will just thank God for what i have. And... being a broken home child is not something that you can always relate to negativity. I'm highly against that cause me, and lots of broken home children out there are shining in our ways, in a good way. Even when our 'home' broken, we still have heart. And our heart is a home to our soul and to our life, use that well! Cause no matter what, we still the children of our parents, separated or not.
That was me.
3>
