Why am I the way I am?

Could it be the result
Of being broken and fixed
Countless times
By love?

Could it be the result
Of the violent content
I exposed myself to?

Could it be the result
Of me
Not hugging my parents
In over 10 years?

Or could it be because of that night?

The one where i heard odd noises
Coming from the darkness nextdoor
That sounded like muffled screams
When my dog woke me up
Five times
Throughout the night
But
I wrote it off
And woke up the next morning
To blue and red lights
Flashing through my curtains
To hear what had happened
They tied him up
Used his own hammer
And bashed his skull in
Covered the room
In shades
Of burgundy, red, pink and white
A marvelous painting
Couldn't be seen in the dark.
They bit her finger off when
She
Didn't want to give them
Her
Ring
Waterfalls of blood
Silently rushing out
They left her for dead.

Going to school that day
Explaining to my teacher why
I was upset
She cried.

But why?
Why did I never cry about it?