KnK: This is set after Chapter 88, or really whenever Ed went to sleep after the fight with Pride and got some time to think.
When Edward was a child, he adored Hohenheim. Idolized him, really. He was everything that the little boy wanted to be; he knew everything, about alchemy and everything else in the world, and he could always make his mother smile. And whenever he looked in the mirror, he saw the same golden blonde hair and the same gold eyes, and couldn't stop his smile. He looked like his father, and he couldn't be happier.
That was, until he left. The glare of the early morning sun blinded his eyes as he took one last look at his father. He didn't understand it then, but Hohenheim wouldn't be coming back.
But the gradually, the days turned to weeks, to months, to years. And all the hope and excitement he felt at the thought of Hohenheim's return turned to resentment, to anger, to hate. Resentment for all his mother's sad looks, mixed with Al's -and even his own- desire to know his father.
The day his mother died was when Ed truly began to hate his father. All those years she'd waited, sad and lonely (except for him and Al), and he'd never come back. And he'd left his sons alone in the world, and Ed hated him for abandoning him and his brother, in a way, again.
Ed rolled to his back, glaring in the direction of his father, who was still sitting around the fire in the Kanama slum. "Fuck you, old man." he said angrily to himself, and shifted to his other side.
Consciously, he didn't remember ever loving Hohenheim. Looking back, all he could remember feeling was a deep, deep pain at thought of him, and a great anger for feeling that pain. That's the way it was, though, right? His father was a scumbag who abandoned his family -whatever the reason- and he had no right at all to try and treat him like a son now, after all those years. Ed held his pillow tightly, shutting his eyes so hard it hurt. He wasn't going to let himself cry for the sake of that bastard-!
"I'm glad to hear you say that, son,"
He was almost happy to hear Hohenheim say it, as if he was proud of him, proud of the man that he had become. That thought made Ed want to cry so hard he couldn't hold it back. It was true, he doubted if he could ever forgive Hoheheim for abandoning his family. He'd never be the same little boy who stared after his father adoringly as he had been. But maybe, after the promised day, and he and Hoheheim had a chance to talk . . .