I was eight when I realized that the beautiful Korean girl was my father's lover. I was nine before I knew I had another brother or sister. I was six when I stopped caring. I was eleven when I stopped loving and two years later I just wanted to stop living.

Does anyone realize that "love" and "hate" have four letters??? Neither one is any bigger or smaller than the other. If you think about life you might just see that the sun does shine and Heaven abounds. Little kids giggle and old people cry and it is all beautiful. I guess somewhere in the middle we forget to feel. Love is lost and not regained until we look through aged eyes and ask why did so much of life have to pass without us?

I don't want to look over my shoulder and realize I wished my life away. I want to hold on to a love, pull her in close and breathe. For once in my life I just want to breathe.