Marriage isn’t certain. I often have the urge to ask my father this- when do you cross the line between being in love with someone and just plain loving someone? He has definitely crossed that line since he cheated on my mother and indirectly, on the entire family. And when do you differentiate want and love? When you strip bare of your personalities and feelings, is that it? Did my father, 27 years young, strip himself bare and devoted his entire 27 years of growing up and living and falling to be with my mother? And if so, when did he stop? When did he decide that, oh, this is the point of no return. This is it. I wonder if he ever thought of me, when he’s there. With whoever. I wonder if he brings a picture of my six-year-old self looking up to him in his mind whenever he cheats on my mother. I wonder if he ever heard me under the covers, hiccupping through tears and tears of disappointment and remorse. I still think about myself back then and boy did I feel sorry for the 12-18 year old version of me. What a sad sack. My whole preteen-teen hood has been overshadowed by my father’s infidelities. Not that I’m blaming him for what has become of me right now- I’m just saying that a fraction of whoever I am now is a reflection of my father’s many mistakes.