It became clear to me at a young age. The words I had heard and the stories passed down about a loving father who was there for you at all times. A father that you can't see but you can talk to. His name was "God." The realization hit me around the age of 14, a realization that someone like me would never have that happy ending. I would never have a family who loved me and I would never have that love who wanted to protect you.
The realization that all my actions would soon be regrets and I would be wondering why God had left me to bleed emotionally. My life became a living hell and soon enough I found myself sleeping around for food and money. No one noticed when I would get raped. No one would notice when I screamed for help. No one cared that I was being ripped from my innocence and dignity. I probably didn't even have a dignity to begin with.
No one cared. No one would care. I meant nothing to others, I never have and most definitely never would. My regrets would stay my secret because no one would have to ask. I didn't even have to tell this so called, "God." Besides, he probably doesn't exist. Just like the chance of me finding love, it just doesn't exist.