My parents surrounded me—my mother to the left, and my father to the right—and explained it like this. There was a time long before I was born, when all of the world’s continents were connected. It was called Pangaea, and it was a lot like my parents’ marriage. At first, the continents were happy, and lived together in harmony. Then, they slowly separated, drifting apart until they were on opposite sides of the world. They were sad about it, as they were sure I was. But, they said, they still loved all of the life they held, and they promised that I was always have a home with both of them

It was sad seeing my father go, as I held my teary-eyed America close. But I knew life would be better this way, and that made the divorce painfully gleeful.