Written on June 26, 2015.
My father hit me hard when I was 6 years old. I went out to play with my brother’s friend once and I skipped my tuition lesson on that day. A teacher called back to my house and asked for me. That was how my father found out that I had skipped the class.
Why would I do that? I was only six. Who taught me to skip class at that time? No one. I guess it was my basic instinct that drove me to skip the class. Not because I like to skip class. I never skipped class before and I like to go to class. What instinct was that, then?
Lust, I am talking about this. I have had a crush on my brother’s friend at that time. I guessed he was supposed to be the first opposite gender that I was interested in. I didn’t know what kind of feeling was that, but I knew that I wanted to spend time with that person. So I stayed. I observed him; I talked to him; I smiled at him – so innocent, so cute.
But then my father found out the “fact” and he punished me by whipping my hands so many times with a rotten stick. So much pain at that time. So scary, too. I remembered every scene during the punishment: he pulled my leg from the living room to the bedroom and closed the door. The moment when the door was closed, I knew that I was going to feel the pain. And yes, a painful memory that stored inside my mind now. But now, it has been turned into a painfully sweet memory. I have never regretted about what I did. And I love my father for punishing me at that time. They became one of the sweetest memories that I have in my mind now.
I wonder is I told my father about my lust toward another gender at that time, would he still be that mad about my skipping class? I wonder how would he explain to me about lust, affection, and love. Those things are never easy to explain as they are more suitable to express.
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