He did meet someone new.
This woman... my first meeting with her... was very tensed for me. She came to my dad's small little apartment... honestly I felt like it was an intruder on my grounds. I do want to say I was 11 as that was the time most things were wrong in my world. Things were just overall bad. I was not in the best state of mind at that age. And it would only get worse.
Meeting this woman, could had been done better.
What happens after this is what makes me not trust anyone. This was a time in my life that I was starting once again developing a new me. And these up coming years would change me... a lot.
Dad once again moved on fairly fast with this new woman. Being older... I did not like it very much.
She has 3 sons. What I remember is that after the weekend I met this woman. From then on, we would spend my dad weekends at her house... 2 adults 4/5 kids. at first I got to share a room with one of the younger boys.
But because of we both maturing, they had to separate us. Smart move... but I don't understand why I had to sleep in the living room... on a couch. I have a vague memory of my dad saying something that because I'm not there so often it's not really practical for me to have my own room. But I don't know if this is the time he said it. I do know he has said it. Just don't know if it was when I had to sleep in the living room or the closet.
I did not really get along with this woman. Like she was trying SO HARD to bond but we were not on the same level, anywhere. We had little to no similar interests. Except my dad. She wanted a girly girl. I wasn't girly in any way. And when she bought me things, I wasn't ungrateful, I just didn't like girly things.
Anyhow. Everything moved on quite fast. They got a house so everyone would fit... everyone, but me. They built extra rooms that wasn't supposed to be there.
They remade a closet for me to sleep in. I couldn't close the door most nights because it would get so hot I couldn't breathe... my brother got to share a room with one of the other guys. The other two boys got a room each. Dad and the new woman a room as well.
I remember thinking many times... why was I put in a closet, just because I was smallest and wasn't there as often as the others? Like sure, they did all these customization... but... a closet? Really? And I do think this was the one and only time my dad said its a good solution as I'm not there often enough... They could had gotten me a room of my own and slept in the living room, no?
All this just made me feel like I came last. Like I didn't quite matter.