His father left for the war just after he was born, and never came back. His mother was an artist who never had the freedom to paint, and once she left home, there was nothing he could do to help her. He was young and scared and he didn’t stick around long enough to meet his first-born child. He betrayed the one he loved most, for the favors of one he never loved at all. He turned away from his shadows, and never sought to bring them into the light of day. Not once did he allow himself to surrender to anything vast and omnipotent. He did everything he thought he was supposed to do, and in the end, he made everybody happy but himself. He sat on the fence for far too long, until the choice was no longer his to make. He never made the time to show how much he cared. He tried his darnedest to give, yet forgot to ask what they wanted to receive. He desperately wanted help, but pride got in his way. He thought it could wait until later, but later never came.