Two Halves Don't Make a Whole

It’s the third night in a row where I find myself listening to sad music, with a pit in my stomach that only goes away momentarily during the day when I’m out with friends, in the gym or watching some stupid shit on Instagram.

I didn’t come home the entirety of second semester, not very normal behaviour for someone who lives a two-hour flight away. I told my parents it’s because I wanted to explore Bombay, and because I’m learning to love this city. I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the whole truth.

I have two homes here in Delhi. A pair of slippers for each, a face wash for each, a room in each. But there’s a catch- I only get one parent per house. I think after a point I realized that my small heart can’t take the constant back and forth, and the emotional baggage that comes with it. So, when I got to live in an apartment in Bombay, one that I can call my only home in the city, I felt a new kind of comfort. Something I haven’t felt since I was eleven.

By this point I’ve burst into tears, because the only person I’ve admitted this feeling to once ended up telling me “Not everyone has two houses like you, you can just sleepover at any whenever you want.” Thanks for the reminder, at least you get to see your mom and dad having dinner together every night. Now it's public information, for you to form your own opinion on. Child of separation is sad because her parents' marriage failed... so don't be a dick (please).

My parents talk like two colleagues catching up after being away in different cities for client meetings. They don’t talk like two people who used to be married to each other, I don’t know what that’s supposed to sound like actually, but I know that’s not what they sound like.

I never talk about this because I feel like it’s not something worth mentioning. Also, the only way I know how to talk about it is to make jokes that make everyone around me uncomfortable.

What happens to a child when they grow up with a broken marriage looming over their head? Where are all those kids? I sometimes feel like I’m the only one. I know I’m not. But it just feels like it. “Do you spend more time at your dad’s house or your mom’s?” I actually spend most of my time in my head thinking about how one would feel when I’m at the others house. So, my solution for this is just staying 1,400kms away, where I’m not at either of their houses. At least they’ll both be equally sad about it.

Every time someone wishes their parents happy anniversary on their story, I cringe a little, it makes me sad. And jealous. I got asked if it makes me sad that my parents are separated. I replied with “I’m used to it”, that’s not an answer. The answer to that question is yes. It does.

I probably won’t come home next semester also, because once I get a taste of that comfort, I never ever want to let go. Except for Diwali. Bombay doesn’t know how to do Diwali like us.

Have you watched marriage story? It’s so relatable! Oh wait…maybe only for me. Haha. Anyways.