Sometimes, what hurts the most is getting what you wanted.

I always wanted his memory to go away. I always wanted his memory to leave me alone, to vanish forever from my life, and to stop hurting me so much. Night after night I would pray for something to take it away from me, something to save me from it, from myself. And day after day I would listen and wait, wondering when I would be free.

When you can't have something, you wish and wish for it to be yours. I wished for solitude. I wished for silence, to be blind. I was living in a land of people who could see, when allI wanted was to live in a land of the blindfolded. Where no one could see me and I could not see them, see him.

The rules of life are so simple, so easy to follow. So simple that, ironically, man can not follow them. Mankind must complicate all, must make things harder than they truly are, to satisfy his need for challenge.

Live, love, die, that is all man is meant to do. But we can not even follow these three simples instincts. We must war, and make peace, destroy and rebuild. It's in our nature to be self-destructive, and we're going to pay for it someday.

It's ironic that I sit here and think of this. I wanted for so long to be unable to see,and now that I am unable to see, all I can do is wish I could see once again. I want his memory to come back to me, and to be surrounded by people. I sit and think of all these truths, and wish I had not been granted the things I wanted most.

Why? I don't know why. Who ever really knows why they want the things they want, why they do what they do? Who can truly know why they are the way they are? All I really know is that sometimes what hurts the most is getting what you wanted. Perhaps that is why when one comes bearing coveted gifts, men lock their doors and refuse to answer.

And perhaps that is why I did not want to remember my son Edward, why the memory of his hatred for me was the one thing I ran from.

The end.