My father's sweet honey.

And who would believe my love for honey-colored eyes would come from my father? Who would believe that the person who gave me life would be the one who taught me to take it away? Who would think that the person who gave me life was the one who took it away from me? Yes, the whole set up is just a yes, that person who I called father, that person who taught me to fall in love with the eyes color honey, was the one who taught me to care for them, to love them the way I do, was simply the person I love each time Q EU looked me in the eye, it was just him and nobody else.

Who am I? Where do I come From? What did I do? What will I be? Was I Always like this? Do you Always need love? What's my name? I know what can be all that amount of questions the world is made about me, I know very well that many would like to know how it was that I learned to love those beautiful eyes, I know that most think I'm crazy and insane , I know it is very difficult to try to understand without knowing me, I know since I also have asked me those same questions throughout my life, just to remember the way I am and why I love the way I do , I'm not crazy, I am is simply in love, in love with the world around me, in love with someone, in love with an image that will never come out of my mind and make me remember how I am and why I am, is simply the image of my sweet father that keeps constant E in my mind.

Thomas, simply Thomas, that was the last sigh my mother gave that day, the last sigh was to name this being, my name, she was the first and last person to call me by my name... Tell Me, Who would call by name the beast that took his mother's life? Yes, I wrests him, to take away my mother's life, if I could go back in time and be able to choose who would live, I would have chosen her.

How would my father call me by my name if I removed the person I loved most? Even I would have hated myself for it, I did not want to do it, I did not decide to do it, she was the one who chose me to live instead of her. Every time I fulfilled my father remarked to me that I was the biggest mistake of his life, that having me was the stupidest thing he has done, told me countless times that he wanted to kill me and make me suffer to feel what he felt, but did not , he did not torture me, he only loved me and showed me his love in a way very different from that of others, he loved me, loves me and will always love me in a particular way, in his form.

I will never forget the place where I grew up and would like to return; It was a small house, it had two rooms, a bathroom, a living room, a backyard and a small attic, in the rooms my elder brother Christofer slept and in another my father, and I lived in the attic of the house, it was a dark place and something cold , but it was the most beautiful place for me, since I was at home with my father and my brother, I didn't want another place in the world more than that.

If you wonder what part of the world I raise that's easy, I was born and raised in a small city in Venezuela, to see more in the state of Portuguesa, that was the smallest city in the whole country but at least it was a magical and beautiful place; I loved to see the sunrise and dusk from the place I grew up, everyday I woke up very early to see the beautiful sunrise of that place.

If you ask for my studies, I have them all, study in a small school in that small town where I taught everything necessary to survive in the world and be a good person, I can not say that was a teaching of one hundred , but at least they taught me the basics.

I can not say that he hated me, he loved me, in his way, but I always love, his love was unique and irreplaceable, he taught me the various ways that may exist to be able to love, I know that perhaps it was not the best of all , but if it was one of the best for me. He taught Me a lot of things about life, like, no matter how bad he treats you, you must keep standing there struggling to survive.

I will Never forget the beautiful honey-coloured eyes that I saw every time I was beaten, every time I tied myself to a chair and made small cuts with a knife and while the blood was pouring lemon with salt in the wounds; Nor could I forget how I forced my brother to abuse me, just for morbidity of him, neither my brother nor I enjoyed it, but we could not do anything about it.

For over 18 years I had to endure the love that my father felt for me, making me feel so beautiful to think that everything I did was only for me. My father after the death of my mother became a person who drowned his sorrows in alcohol, could arrive at about 6 in the morning completely drunk and those were the days I enjoyed the most since I knew that I would give all his love.

Of Course I used to not see it as love, I used to see it as an act of wickedness and contempt, hated it, hated my father as I could never get to hate anyone, could not even hear it because I felt a deep disgust for him , I didn't understand why he was like that with me and not my brother, by that time I could not understand his way of expressing love, I felt alone and empty, wanting to take my life and thus stop suffering, but I could not let what I felt at that time I expires... And after that day I understood everything...