It’s hard not to hate. People, things, institutions. When they break your spirit and take pleasure in watching you bleed, hate is the only feeling that makes sense. But I know what hate does to a man. Tears him apart. Turns him into something he’s not. Something he promised himself he’d never become.
Every time I think maybe I’m heading in the right direction, I end up in a place I never even knew could feel this bad.
We’ve all watched brothers die in the service of this club. There is two things you can do when that happens. You can run from the pain, bail. Or you can allow it to burn into your heart, to leave its mark. A constant reminder of the love that brought us all here.