My mom
my two cats
the home I grew up in - my father sold it without telling me, so everything that I still had there (my letters, my poems, my books...), together with the things from my mom and my grandparents, are lost too....and all the happy memories, already scarce, are now too tinged with the pain of loss and suffering...
the love of my life ( she betrayed me - because obviously I´m not good enough to love)
my youth, which I spend working for my father, a narcissist who made life hell for my mom, my little brother and me. But I needed to stay and work and protect my mom.
my dreams - because of my father...and now I´m too old....
my creativity
Never had anything to lose to begin with
I sometimes think that it is strange, that things we never had can hurt too...
I think I would have liked to have a real family.... and I miss the father that I didn´t have and the friends with which to plot adventures...and that hurts too