The magic of christmas eludes me, but fortunately I have memories of walking home in the snow on christmas eve as a young boy.
These little memories are a treasure to me, as I lived in terror not long afterwards, I lived in fear, my self esteem was fractured and pedophiles would really home in on me.
I told my family to not bother with presents, not that they ever did, but I live in closer proximity to them, so they may feel obliged.
The only christmas present that would please me, is to get my childhood back, instead of it being a constant fight to get there, adn having to control my parents fighting about their boy.
Yeah, I was not quite right, how could I be! My dad was consantly up with me in the night while my mother just never took responsibility, then it would be big fights in the morning to put me into a home for bad kids.
Those fights between mom and dad, were about me, and as a kid who may have slept just a couple of hours and have to be the go between between them, no wonder I had trouble at school.
No wonder the kids bullied me, I let them do it, until I fought them back.
The only thing that I really thought when I was young is, why did God not take me?
If only this was some mad dream, not some nightmare, I could understand.
Maybe I will write my book,
Whoever stole the Sun, put it back and we'll drop all the charges!