Maybe 2am is not a time I should be posting or even contemplating revealing my life story over the internet, but here I am. My fingers taking off, writing out my long past, past, and of course present for your reading pleasure and hopefully not too harsh input.

I come from a broken home which my unplanned conseption was the initial start of, parents that married 10 days after I was born and split 3 years later for too many reasons. Raised by a father who was ill-equiped to be on his own, resulting in several new "mom's", one of which I was to learn would result in another child he would keep secret for years.

Both my parents found new partners, my father remarried when I was 7 and had 2 legitimate kids to which I was the older yet distant brother. My mother never remarried but had another son 7 days before my father had his first blonde-haired, blue eyed daughter.

Years passed, surviving through life, going through the family grind. A month in the summer and a week in the spring with my mother and the remaining time with my dad. Each with their own lives, never really noticing that I kept apart, feeling like a piece of a life that should have never been. Never getting overly close to either parent or the one step-family.

Raised, baptised and confirmed Lutheran but never really feeling a connection to God. Always questioning the existence of such a higher being and the meaning to life itself. Compartmentalizing my own thoughts and feelings into manageable pieces, to keep my own sanity and also effortlessly turn off parts of myself when ever a situation or task required me to either set it aside or focus on it exclusively.

Met my wife and started dating at the age of 13, proposed at 19 and married at 23. I remember the good times and the bad all through out and would give anything to go back to some of those happier times.

Her mother was diagnosed terminal the Christmas before we were married, so to support my new mother-in-law and then 16 year old brother-in-law we moved them in with us less then 6 months into our new marriage. Over time the boy graduated, moved out, married and is now expecting his second daughter. My wife's mother is still with us for the 12th year despite her first prognoses of 2-4 years remaining. A living arrangement which was obviously emotionally harmful to most involved then I care to get into. My wife and I have grown distant in our relationship, partly due to the responsibility and need to provide and care for those we support and partly due to the regular conflicts life itself creates for all of us. We became no more then roomate who shared a bed and a stack of bills, wishing for more but unable to overcome the mound of mistrust and frustrations which now resided between us. We cannot talk any longer as we once did without setting aside personal opinions and individual feelings just to come together as two in a relationship should be able to do.

I became a man that would rather work full time, run his own side job in the evenings and weekends, and have the occasional fake evening call just to be alone with his own thoughts, sitting in an office or car just so he does not have to go home. At least that was me up until 6 days ago when I packed up my clothes in blue recycle bags, crammed them into my little car and left with no place to go. Two nights in my car in thankfully mild winter weather and a quick apartment approval puts me to today. A 35 year old man determined to not go back, but with a lot of past to still put behind him before the future can start knocking at his door.