I've been thinking about the experience of seeing my 16-year old self so vividly. Something is becoming clearer the more I think about it:
My hatred for him is based in fear.
I think about my 16-year old self - this foreign boy - and I am afraid of him. I know what he did, what he is capable of.
He had so much anger, directed at so many people, including himself. He was capable of lashing out with so much venom...
He took a human life once.
Could he do it again, if someone pushed him far enough?
Could he destroy me?
I guess what I'm trying to say
Is whose life is it anyway because livin'
Living is the best revenge
You can play
-- Def LeppardMy Story
, Part 2My blog