Yesterday, my best friend’s mum got married to the man that I have always called my best friend’s step dad. I think for a long time, I didn’t realise that they weren’t married. It seems to make sense to me.
I wasn’t at the wedding. Heck, I’d never expect to be, are you crazy!? But while I’m very happy for them, and I hope they enjoyed their day so much, it’s left me a bit lost, and my emotions are up in the air. Seeing her snapchats throughout the day, I don’t quite know what to make of it all. No, I’m not jealous. No, I’m not angry. I already told you that I was happy for them. You forget that I’m not five, and my emotions just aren’t as simple as that!
You see, I think I’m the child of a second marriage. I don’t know that for sure, because my parents have never told me so. But I am. If I really think about it, I know I am. But I’m pretty good at hiding from it, because I don’t like to think that my parents lie to me. It’s not something that I think about.
But seeing and hearing of a second marriage has been enough to trigger those thoughts. To trigger the memory of the day I found the evidence, and to trigger that uneasy feeling that my parents haven’t told me the truth for my whole life.
And that’s a little tricky to think about, because it’s a concept that my brain cannot comprehend, and rejects. It’s a bizarre concept, and I don’t know how I feel about it. I want my parents words to be the truth, but I’ve seen with my own eyes that they are not. I’ve tried to think of every possible explanation for what I found, but there simply isn’t another, and that’s a bit weird.
And the more I think about it, the sillier I think I am. So what if I’m the child of a second marriage? I still know who my mum and dad are, and that’s more than many people in this world.
But I guess that I just don’t like the lies. What if I have a sister or a brother that I will never get to meet? That’s a very sad thought, because families are supposed to be happy, no matter how disjointed they can seem at times.
But I guess that I’ll have to accept that I will never know. Because I’m never going to look again where I looked before. But I want to know. I think I do, anyway. But I’m not sure, really. It’s something that I’d never thought about before. I’d just blocked it out, until the subject of marriage came up again.
And now it’s all over, I hope that I can go back to my world of pretend once more.