When I was a child, my father woke me every morning with the same phrase: ‘Life is a great sunrise.’ The words shaped the way I saw the dawn, but after my father was taken from me, the morning sun burned like fire. That’s when I learned what hatred was, and that it would greet me each day to come.
”I know you are full of hate because something very important was taken away from you.” Only she knows. I don’t know if she blames herself for it, but I don’t blame her.
It’s hard to share memories from my past. It’s hard for me to trust. You know, people think that because I have lost my family I never knew what real love was. But I did and it was ripped away from me and I still feel that pain like it was yesterday. That’s why I push people away.