I am 15 years old. I am fatherless. Well, not really, I have a dad. He lives in Kansas. I used to live in Kansas too, back when we were a family. When mom and dad split up she brought me and my brother to Oregon. We left my father all alone in Kansas. My mom wanted to be close to her family. I guess she didn’t ask if I wanted to be close to mine.
I see my dad a couple of times a year, and we skype pretty regularly. I like being and talking with him. He always says that I am the only person that he likes to talk too. He is kind of a hardass like that. I think that we are connected. I don’t really know what that means, but we always seem to understand each other. I miss him. I’ve missed him for a long time.
I guess that I didn’t mention this before when I said that I was 15 years old. Today is my birthday. Today is a significant day. I am now old enough to decide where I want to live. If only it were that easy.
From what you have read to this point, you probably assume that I want to live with my dad. You aren’t wrong. There are many other things to consider. My baby brother for one. How could I leave him here alone? It would destroy my mother if I left her. Just like it destroyed my dad I guess. I have cousins here now too. They are kind of weird, but they’re family. Grandpa died a few years ago. Everyone seems to have finally moved on. Except for Nana. Which is weird because they had been separated since before I was born. Nana is 76 years old. She’s batshit crazy. If I left she might go even crazier. It took a long time, but I actually have friends here too. I don’t have a boyfriend, much to my dads delight. My best friend, Sophie, would probably cry. I would probably cry.
I’m smart enough to understand now, the injustice that happened to my father. I want him to be happy. I want me to be happy too. Why does happiness have to be dependent on others? Why do I have make some people unhappy to make others happy? Why did it take 8 years for anyone to consider asking me what I wanted? So much has happened.
People think that I am making it up, but I still remember things that happened when I was an infant. I remember my first steps, and my first words. I also remember when I moved to Oregon. It was exciting. My mom had been building it up. We would get to see Nana and grandpa and my crazy aunt all of the time. I would get to play with my baby cousin. There are mountains and waterfalls. Lot’s of nature. I love nature. I was sold. I didn’t not understand that seeing much more of that family would mean barely seeing my dad. I thought that we would still see him plenty. I was wrong. It was wrong.
Once we got to Oregon, it was fun for a couple of months. Seeing and experiencing new things. My dad came to visit us and took us to the Pacific Ocean for the first time. Looking back, out of all of the adventure that I was promised the move would bring, the only truly exciting experiences I recall were when dad came to town. My dad is an adventurer like me. We love exploring new places and trying new things.
What should I do? What would you do? I am tired of making the best of everything. How can I be truly happy when I am forced to decide between my family all of the time? I will have to talk to the judge. I don’t want too. I hate him. I know it isn’t the same judge who created this mess, but it may as well be. Well, wish me luck, I’m going to celebrate by birthday.