I’ve never been the type to overly express my feelings.
I always thought it was cringe-worthy, unless I was expressing anger.
It took me 18 years to stop lying to myself, believing the world was wrong
and unfair, and to finally realize it was me who wasn’t prepared to deal with
life in my childhood and teenage years – which was, I believe, partly caused by
my parents who themselves gave up on educating me about life early on.
Hell, they really did not invest time in me now when I roll back a few decades ago.
In fact, no one special really ever did, except two people – my grandmother, and Sonya.
I remember Sonya as far as when I was around five years old. At that time, which was around 2000,
she got married with Michael who lived in his parents’ house two houses away from mine,
and his parents, now deceased, were a filthy rich, elderly couple – a very sophisticated family indeed.