My life has been difficult. Not as much as some, no. I can attribute my father to that much. But yes, it's been hard. It wasn't my fault, or my father's, and it certainly wasn't fair. But I don't blame the people who made it that way. We're far too deserving of our fate for me to do that.
At least, that's what I used to think. I hated myself, because of what I was, even though I couldn't control it. But I still fought for myself, and my brother. We deserved nothing, but I still fought for the both of us. And after he left, I just fought for myself. I thought it was selfish, to be honest. But I did it anyways, because nothing else made sense.
Then, that idiot came along, after being thrown into our world just as unfairly as I had been. But he had gotten accustomed to his world, and needed help. He always asked me for it, much to my irritation, but I always gave it. And once he found out what I was doing, he made sure to return the favor. He wouldn't let me give up, the selfish jerk.
Then, when he had finally gotten me to think the way he did, to admit that we weren't the only ones to blame for everything, he changed. He turned into the kind of person I used to be, the person I hated being. He once said it was to protect everyone. It was hard for me, when I saw him next. I didn't know what to say, so I resorted to my usual coping mechanism. I screamed at him, I attacked him. I thought I had run him off for good then. In reality, I had finally shown him how stupid he was being. Unfortunately, it was still too late. Even with all the power he had gained, he couldn't save our home from being destroyed.
My life has been hard, the last 5 years especially so. Because even though he helped me find a way to move past all the hate our world created, he left me with one more thing to struggle with: faith. Faith in him, and faith that the world will fix itself someday. And faith is a hard thing to live with.