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Travelling to another country at a young age isn't anything new for most people. But as I set foot outside of the airport and into a whole new world, I couldn't help myself but awe at the foreign streets, smells and people. It wasn't too cold nor was it too warm, it was the perfect weather for June, the beginning of summer vacation. Although papa told me multiple times about the pretty cabin at the edge of the forest back home in Germany, I had never seen it. Neither his new girlfriend.
"... Are you ready?" my dad asked me, taking hold of my right hand softly as if this was part of our casual routine. Wake up, get a divorce, leave to another country. Completely and utterly ordinary. After a short nod of approval, we entered the black car, on our way to the Black Forest.
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"It's alright to cry, y'know?" was what my mother repeatedly told me as we left the courtroom.
I knew it was alright, in fact, it was more than alright, it was necessary. Or so I thought. Any twelve years old would cry after finding out their parents just got divorced, right? Getting it out of the system and so on. But I didn't feel the need to – heck, I didn't know how or what to feel. I was scared, depressed, confused, disappointed with myself! It was too much for my little head to comprehend all at once already, and now I also had to cry?! I couldn't. I really couldn't. And my mother acknowledged that. Hopefully. As I held for dear life onto my court bear, I glanced at the woman holding my much smaller hand. It's going to be just the two of us now, huh? Does that mean I won't wake up to the ticklish smell of pancakes anymore? Does that mean there won't be any more bedtime stories and pillow forts? What about Cherry's morning walks? Or the late park visits? I did all those things with daddy only. Will mommy take his place now? She had always told me she has to work... But daddy worked too, I'm sure she can do it! My train of thoughts came to a stop as soon as mom let go of my hand, the warm traces of her hold fading too fast.
