“Hi honey. Just to let you know your father found out I have a special friend.”

My phone slipped out of my hands, right onto the floor, and cracked a little. Just like my heart.

My parents are getting divorced.

“My parents are getting divorced,” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

I would have never imagined that a single text could change my life, until that dreadful day.

I cried all the way back to my house.

“Good luck,” my friend said as he dropped me off.

I needed more than luck. I needed a miracle.

I waited on my front porch for exactly 13 minutes. I remember because I kept anxiously checking my phone. I even scrolled through Facebook in an attempt to keep my mind off the hell I was about to walk into.

I heard crying through the door. And it wasn’t a typical cry, it was something I’ve never heard before. It was the cry from someone who just got their heart broken. It was a sound I hope I never hear again.

I finally walked through the door and turned to my left to see my parents sitting on the couch together… hugging.

“What is going on?” I screamed.

They both stared at me.

Why are they hugging if they’re getting a divorce?

“Things are complicated, sweetie,” my mom said.

“This is all your fault,” I viscously screamed at her.

And even though I wanted to run to my room and hide, I stayed.

I sat in the chair across the room from them and just listened.

I listened as they went back and forth between saying “I will always love you” and “I’ve been unhappy for a long time.”

I sat there and thought to myself – wow, I will never have another family dinner.

Don’t ask why my mind didn’t automatically go to thinking about having to split my time between the two of them during holidays or how I had to choose who I was going to live with.

My mind wandered to all those tucked away memories of family dinners that were full of joking and my mom forcing everyone to say what their “high and low” was of the day.

It wandered to times that weren’t necessarily that memorable – but all seemed so important now.

January 31st of 2013 was the day my family fell apart. It was the day I became a messed-up child with divorced parents. It was the day I wish never happened and the day my father marks on the calendar every year because it still hurts. It’s a day that I will never look at the same.

The night before I remember fighting with my parents and not being at family dinner. Until this very day, I would do anything to be sitting around my dinner table with my entire family.

I’m a firm believer in the old, overused saying, “everything happens for a reason.” But this is one of those situations where I would do anything to have it back.

And I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces ever since, almost five years later.