April 1991. That is when I learned the true meaning of the word hate. Not dislike, disappointment, anger, rage, etc. Hate. That is a very strong word with a very strong meaning. And I still feel it. Every day. I believe I always will. Which is extremely disturbing since I also believe that if you aren’t capable of giving forgiveness, you are also incapable of receiving it. So, there’s THAT looming over my head all of the time. It’s scary to have an emotion that you don’t know how to handle, how to get rid of, how to cope with. How do you make yourself stop feeling something? I think about it every single day. It has become almost an obsession again. Something I just can’t forget about. Twenty-four years later and the feeling is just as raw and as real as if it happened today. I have also been reminded of something in just the last few days. I can turn my feelings off within seconds, with the exception of my kids. Literally. I can love and care about you and your life one minute and the next minute, I really couldn’t care less. If you’re done being a part of my life then I’m okay with that and you can go away and stay away. I guess I shouldn’t say I can love and care about you because I’m not sure that I love people the way I’m supposed to. I do love my kids more than anything or anyone in the world. I would die for them and I would kill for them. I know I love them the way I’m supposed to. That love is unconditional. I don’t really get over things. Ever. Things that were said and done to me play over and over and over in my head constantly and I don’t know how to make them stop. It hurts. I have also learned that it is much easier to be mad than to be hurt. So I just stay mad. I don’t know. It is just beyond exhausting to even think about it or try to make it stop. So, I have survived another day. Yay. And I will survive another one tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. Until there are no days left.