We all come into the world helpless and vulnerable. If we’re welcomed, it’s usually because those who welcome us hope we will help them—will be their allies in a war that began before we were born.
If we serve them well, they reward us with what we agree to call love, even though we know it isn’t. We know what love is, even if we never experience it, and it isn't payment for service rendered.
He tried to kill me because he saw me as his rival for her. But I knew he also loved me because I knew him better than he knew himself. I knew he loved us both, and wanted both of us to love him as a father and a mother love their child. And I tried to, for her sake. That was the problem. It was for her sake, not his.
They're all frightened children, and I tried to love them all. Now I’m tired of them all.
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