It's taken me a long time, but I think I get it now.
The day you are pushed into a fire and it hurts so much you feel like you're going to die, you tell yourself that the pain will go away because that's the only way you can cope with it. And, eventually, it really does.
But your body, your hands, your face, they're all covered in scar tissue now, and those marks will remain until your last day. You survived, but every time you look in the mirror you're reminded of the price you had to pay. How can your life ever be like it was before, knowing that?