Don't ever look back

Prolouge

When I was 7, after my best friend's funeral, I found an old ripped and stained page in my closet that was nailed to the wall. It was dusty and obviously from a book that hasn't been touched in centuries... Old Italian marking the page... Ink smudged. All that stood out was two paragraphs that were circled in what appeared to be purple pen. They stuck with me for years, even now. To make it easier for you, I'll translate.

"Grief is like sinking, like being buried. I am in water the tawny color or kicked-up dirt. Every breath is full of choking. There is nothing to hold on to, no sides, no way to claw myself up. There is nothing to do but let go.
Let go. Feel the weight all around you, feel the squeezing of your lungs, the slow, low pressure. Let yourself go deeper. There is nothing but bottom. There is nothing but the taste of metal, and the echoes of old things, and days that look like darkness."

Here I am. The year 7051. 21 years old, a father, a fiance, a son, a brother. Yet, I'm still not whole. After all I've done and all I've seen, I will never been whole. When I was dragged out of Italy at 15, I don't think the man I called my father at the time would have ever expected that in a lot of ways he made my life worse.
I guess that's where I should start. Roughly 6 years ago when I was a blind, shaking, worried child. Trust me, after this you won't want to be anywhere near me. Ever. My fiance's reaction to just one thing that I've done was right. I am a monster, a freak and I have absolutely no clue how he could ever love me. I'm glad he said it and knows it, maybe then when he no longer likes me it won't be too hard to for him to break up with me.

I'm getting off track, let's head back yeah?