Resentment; defined as the feeling displeasure, the underlining feeling of despise. Love; defined as the budding feeling of true, heartfelt affection. At a glance, these are complete opposites. One question stands: How can one love the same thing that so wonderfully resent?

I always knew there were problems, and I always knew things were getting worse. Every night, yelling, screaming, emotions going off like bombs; a battlefield was planted and wasn’t leaving at all. Tears were in my life more than most things at that point.

I always blamed my dad for this disruption. Always seeming so stern, so suspicious, it perpetuated me to feel anger; making me side with my mother. I was so close with her, she was my best friend, What happened?

In mid February, it felt as if things were getting better, things were getting happier. While sitting on my couch, my father storms in the door with my little sister. He found the messages, he found the proof. Everything came down; an avalanche collapsed in my life. As screaming echoed from my fathers heart, it reverberated into mine, and broke it.

My mother has been cheating on, making fun of, and basically breaking my father. A 22 year old “man” from Eldred has entered my mother’s life, and apparently was more important than anything else, even her marriage to an amazing man, a REAL man, my father; Not some kid.

After I found out, I hadn't spoken to my mother for three weeks; I basically lived with my best friend, and stayed away as much as possible. She couldn’t understand how much she had hurt me. How can you cheat on your husband, hurt him, and know how much you could hurt your children? How can a “loving” mother ruin a family, rip out the seams?

Fast forward, 11 months later, and I'm living in a broken home that lost home for fixing long ago. At least once a week, my mother goes out with her “friends”, her friends half her age, and of coarse her little boyfriend. She works all day, then comes home and hides herself away in the bathroom, where she can smoke, text her boyfriend and sit on the computer. Then, she goes to bed. Nice mothering skills.

Now, here is the thing that is going to get you. None of my siblings know of anything. My parents are separated, but not divorced. Financial issues prevent a divorce, so we are forced to stay in the same house. This keeps us a “loving family”, or just one in illusion. I live in a broken home, held together by rose colored seams.

I don’t have the “pleasure” of having time to get over my splitting family, but I actually have to watch it every day in all its false glory. People may think its easier in my situation, but its not. Its actually worse. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of a divorce, and losing your mother figure because she has lost her entire self to a mid life crisis. Now, imagine having to pretend like its all true, and be reminded every day that the happy family life you once knew, is gone forever.

So, when I graduate, I'm leaving, and never coming back. Moving 45 minutes away, I absolutely cannot wait to leave this Hell, because I cant deal with it, I really, truly cannot. I have one ounce of advice for the reader: Never take ANYTHING for granted, because you never know when it could be taken right from under your feet, and leave you flat on your face, left with heart break, disappointment, tears, and sorrow.