I had warned you beforehand: "You've said enough this morning. I really don't care to hear anything else you have to say. Now back off before I break every bone in your body."
You kept screaming all the same.
The first punch dropped you to your hands and knees. From there I kicked you to the floor, straddled your chest and delivered methodical and well-placed blows to your face, over and over, until I felt every bone shatter beneath my knuckles.
Once the task at hand was completed, I got up and walked away, leaving you bleeding and disfigured on the floor.
Is this how you felt all those times you delivered bodily harm against me as a child? I wondered. Did you feel powerful, holding my life in your hands? Did you enjoy issuing thinly-veiled threats of impending violence? Did you cherish the beatings that followed?
Partaking in the exhilaration and power derived from imposing pain upon another, and the intoxicating desire to deliver destruction – the same as was delivered to you as a child – over and over again . . .
"The only human will is to succumb to one greater."
I love you. I forgive you. I finally understand.
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