That day started off like any other. I woke up to my bedroom bathed in pink light as the sunlight streaming in from the window bounced off the 18 ballons my father had put around my room overnight and the sounds of my mother in the kitchen making her traditional birthday pancakes.

I grabbed my phone and smiled at the several missed text and voice messages from Rae. I giggled as I opened one from 12:01 am to hear her sleepy voice singing Happy Birthday and she squealed with excitement at the one she had left an hour before reminding me that we were hitting a bar that night and getting drunk, two things I had never done before.

After getting up and getting dressed I headed into the kitchen to greet my parents, thanking them as they both hugged and kissed me and my mother sat a giant stack of pancakes in front of me.

The morning and subsequently the rest of the day would have gone perfectly had my parents not decided to drop a bomb on me right at that moment.

They were getting divorced, they had known for years that it was what they wanted but had decided to wait until after I graduated and turned 18 to tell me.