God Bless the Children of the Beasts

Last night, I told Griffin and Keifer about Glenn and me. Griffin already knew we were having problems, so for him, it wasn’t much of a surprise, and even though he was upset, he seemed to take it okay, but Keifer—well, Keifer didn’t take it well at all.

I told Griffin in the car on the way to soccer practice, which I suppose probably wasn’t the best way to break the news to a child that his parents are divorcing, but I always kind of forget that Griffin’s a kid. I can honestly say that I did almost all of my growing up by the time I was 13 (which I suppose might not say a whole lot for me), and because of that, I feel like Griffin should have, too, but I know that’s not true. I know that he’s lived a much different kind of life from the life I led and that he’s really just a little boy inside.

Anyway, when I told him that I had to talk to him about his father and me, he said no. He said that he didn’t think he wanted to hear what I had to say. Of course, I said it anyway. Though he wasn’t happy, there was no scene, no incident. He showed a lot of strength.

Things didn’t go nearly as well with Kei. I told him I wanted to talk to him before he went to sleep, and he met me in his bed with a big smile on his face, not at all expecting to hear that his entire life was about to change. We sat on the bed facing each other, cross-legged, holding hands, a blanket on our laps. I felt nervous, the same way I’ve felt in the past when I knew I was about to get into big, big trouble for something horrible I’d done. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to be the one to take that smile off of his face. But I had no choice.

As soon as I said the words, “You’ve probably noticed that your father and I haven’t really been talking,” his smile disappeared, and he looked noticeably scared. I proceeded to tell him that everybody in our family loves each other, that I love Daddy and Daddy loves me, and that we both love him and his brother, and we know that they love us, but that our living situation just wasn’t working. Daddy was going to be moving out.

Before I even finished, he was sobbing. I sat, and then lay, in his bed with him, holding him for about twenty minutes, until the sobbing stopped. As soon as I left, it started over.

Many things about this whole ordeal are painful, but I think the most painful part of it all is the part I went through last night. I would do anything to not have heard those sobs or seen the devastation on that face.  Anything to assuage those fears and see that smile that he smiled when we first sat on his bed.

I would do anything to fix my Kei.

Anything but the one thing that would fix him.