Dear God,
My life was spent being passed round to various foster families, like a boring toy that no-one wants. I was 8 when I was finally found a permanent home and adopted. My new parents were gay, and lived with my “dad’s” older brother. Life was great, and I was finally living it. I experienced the simple pleasures of childhood, going the park, the beach. Whatever I wanted, I got, and this left me a spoilt brat, prone to temper tantrums, and no real friends. Everyone secretly hated me, but of cause I knew this, I just pretended it wasn’t real. How could it be when everything else in my life was perfect, I was flying in the clouds. I felt that I had nothing to fear. I was invincible.
M.B