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He was a failure. He was a lesser human. He would never be good enough.
The conditioning that resulted from an endless cycle of abuse was a profound manipulator.
He was intelligent, but that wasn’t his greatest asset. His nature was loving. His purpose was caring. His destiny was to unify.
Geraldine had turned him into the saddest kind of damaged goods. The kind that’s too fucked-up to realize it. When horror isn’t quite horror anymore, it’s just normal. And when awful isn’t quite awful anymore, it’s just life.
The pain wasn’t the worst he’d felt. It was a different hurt than the kind he’d come to know. A hurt that, under different circumstances, he could’ve definitely gotten used to. The beauty of the day had about dried up. The darkness was priming itself to set in.
