Indea (redtears55) wrote,

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Confessions of a Twenty Year Old. Pt. One

Ok…so I promised this huge long entry about my own self-analysis. Why I choose to do thing and why I choose not to do other things. This is going to be a two part entry. So be aware now that this first part is going to be setting a scene, talking about my life from when I was little until I was nineteen.

Ok…so starting with my family. Growing up I had a relatively normal childhood. I had two loving parents and a little brother. A nice little house and even a dog. Now I don't remember really very much from when I was a toddler up until I was about ten or so. I mean, nothing really ever stuck out. I'd had many happy times believe me. However there is one memory from my early stages of life that I can still to this day remember so vividly. The day my baby brother Joe was born. I remember being an impatient child as I waited with my grandparents and aunts in the hospital waiting room. My dad was in the delivery room with my mother and I remember sitting back in the chair, my legs swinging and singing childish songs. I remember the sound, sight and smell of the hospital. And I remember the way my heart started to pound when my dad walked into the waiting room, clad in a green hospital robe to cover his clothing and grinning from ear to ear. Joe had been born on February 28th, 1989 at 1:20 in the afternoon. I remember my dad taking my hand and walking quickly towards the nursery, I had to run to keep up with him. And just as we got to the nursery I saw the bed that my brother was in. It looked like some sort of incubator and there were holes in which you could reach in a touch. I remember looking in and seeing this white little thing with a full head of hair. Honestly, he looked like a little alien. Not human at all. Then again I was four years old. I was hesitant at first when the nurse allowed me to reach in and touch my new baby brother. Slowly, I remember, reaching in and touching the soft flesh, looking into a pair of deep brown eyes. They were almost black. And yes, believe it or not, his eyes were open so shortly after being born. Maybe I was just the lucky one who got to see those beautiful baby eyes before anyone else. Then I remember turning to my father and bluntly saying "Ok. I like him now." Apparently, I was a jealous child all through my mother's pregnancy and demanded that she give me a little sister. Well now I'm glad that I was blessed with a brother. My only sibling whom I love dearly through all the hardships and all the fights. We have a bond together that I know can't be broken.

Now…really the next couple years were again, happy and carefree. The next big thing didn't happen until I was ten years old. My parents separated and my father moved out of the house. Now being still a child, I couldn't understand why they fought all the time or why they had decided to get divorced. One of the girls I went to school with had recently gone through her parents getting a divorce and the whole time I thought to myself. "My parents'll be together forever." Well that didn't happen. I don't think I cried very much. After all, I didn't understand the meaning behind all of it. I just knew that my dad moved out and I would no longer see him every day like I was used too. Only every weekend would I see him. That's what bothered me the most. I didn't want our happy little family to end. We were supposed to be the normal family. Your regular average family. Well my average family became not so average. After about a year my mother starting seeing a new man. Its funny how they met actually. She'd gone out with some friends of hers and a man by the name of Sean had asked her to dance. So my mom, obviously saw no harm in that and took him up on his offer. Well wouldn't you know, he was a little overzealous and his brother swooped in and save my mother. I thought it was a funny story and even though it bothered me that my mom was seeing someone other then my dad, I did think that she needed to be happy too.

It was a couple of weeks later that I met Scott. I remember it being late at night and my mom had just gotten home from another date. I got up, intending to use the bathroom when she caught me in the hall way and asked me if I wanted to meet the new man she was seeing. I wanted to say no and just go back to bed but my curiosity got the better of me and I obliged, dragging my feet behind my mother. What I saw at the time shocked the hell out of me. Scott was black.

Now I'm not a racist person by any means. I still can't tell you why at eleven years old that I found it shocking that my mother had started dating a black man. Well, to be honest he was half black and half white. I didn't want to like him either but he had such a nice smile and gentle manner that I couldn't help but like him instantly. He was a big part of our lives for four years and I know that he loved us all very dearly. We loved him as well.

Now the next person to come into mine and my brother's lives was a woman by the name of Candy. She was my father's fiancée and wouldn't you fucking know it, he didn't bother to tell us until after he was engaged that he had found a new woman. I believe I was fourteen at the time. Not too far from my fifteenth birthday. Then what do I find out? The little woman is only twenty-three years old. I remember laughing my ass off at the fact that my thirty eight year old father was going be to marrying someone that young. Someone that could easily be my older sister. Then the day came that we met Candy. Oh she seemed sweet as pie at first but little did I know that she was a fucking viper and a liar. She took great pleasure in lying about me to my father and to my family. She also took great pleasure in telling my brother and I that our mother was the one who caused the divorce by cheating on my father. I still don't know if that's true or not and I don't really care too. And what really got me was that she'd also told someone that I just couldn't be my father's child because I looked too much like my mother. I just had to be a bastard child. Now for anyone who knows me personally and has seen my and my father. I have quiet a few of his facial features. I have his nose and his eyes, his family's body structure and even the same skin condition that his sisters and mother has. Yes, I am quite sure that I am my father's child. Gods, I hated that woman. Imagine my delight when they finally got divorced two years later. Yatta~!

Next big even was when I turned fifteen. For over a year my mother had been talking to a man named Mark. He was from Australia. Things with Scott had turned sour and he and my mother finally split. Well…really I think a lot of that was because my mother had formed some sort of fascination with Mark. She even went to visit him after deciding that they were going to be married. My thoughts. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Yeah. I didn't want to hear it. She spent three weeks in Australia with Mark and my brother and I stayed with my grandparents. Oh how fun that was. Catch the sarcasm there people.

Three weeks we waited and then finally my mother was back and Mark was with her. He was an average looking guy. Good height, dark hair, blue eyes. Not bad looking. He was quiet. Now, Mark had previously won me over by sending me a birthday present for my fifteenth. I had talked to him on the phone and discovered that we had similar tastes in music. I had begged my mom to by me Korn's "Follow the Leader" and she refused. Well…lucky me, that was my gift from Mark. I was delighted. My mother was not. I was such an evil child. So then I was fascinated by him for the mere fact that he was a computer programmer and damn could he pull together web design like there was no tomorrow. He tried to teach me. I got impatient and quit. It just didn't come to me like it did him obviously.

Then Mark and my mother got married. It was a nice small little wedding and my mom looked yet again, very happy. I was happy for her. How could I not be. Mark had moved here and things went pretty damn well for the first couple of months. And then…things got rocky. That was to be expected. Well, Mark ended up moving back to Australia and for the life of me I couldn't understand why they still talked every damn night and cried all the time. Then…to my ultimate surprise my mother told me that we would be moving to Australia. I had a hissy fit. I didn't want to leave my home, my school, my friends. Why did I have to sacrifice all of that just because of some man that she was so in love with. I wasn't just upset. I was pissed. I remained pissed for quite sometime. Then she gave my one hell of an ultimatum. Either I move to Australia or I move in with my father and step-mother in no man's land and have to give up all my friends anyways. Now that was the lesser of two evils. I hated my step-mother so I chose Australia. Two months later I was on a plane. I cried the whole way. I bawled in the middle of the airport in Sydney. I cried up until the plane landed in Brisbane. Then my curiosity took over. I saw Mark again and honestly I can say I was happy to see him.

Austrlia was beautiful. The beaches were gorgeous, the palm trees were awesome and everything was just overwhelming. I still missed home but I figured hey…I could get used to this. Since we moved there in the middle of their summer, there would be no school for another couple of weeks. Luckily there was a family with a bunch of kids next door to us. I met Nathan. He was a few years younger then me but my god was he gorgeous. He looked about seventeen even though he was only thirteen. Through Nathan I met a girl my age named Melissa. Now I had spent some time with Melissa and she immediately wanted to be my friend. I think it was more for the fact that I was American and would be a novelty. She told me that she would come by and we could walk to the bus stop together on the first day of school. Who was I to say now. She explained to me that I was going to meet Zane. A friend of hers. First day of school came around and I felt absolutely fucking ridiculous in a school uniform. Skirt, white button down blouse, tie and all. I was even more subconscious because I was to be meeting a new person.

Zane and I met and immediately we were inseparable. My first day of school was a little overwhelming. I was the only American in the school and people wanted me to do nothing more then talk for them. They went on and on about my accent, asked me more questions then I could think of answers for and basically I was like the coolest pet in the petting zoo. It was something I'd never experienced before.

It didn't take long at all for me to make a bunch of friends and I was so welcomed and accepted that I felt I really belonged. Zane became such a huge part of my life. We became so close and I fell in love for the first time. He was my first love, first real kiss and best friend. Unfortunately as luck would have it, he came to me one day and told me that he was bi-sexual. That didn't bother me. What broke my heart is that not long after that he confessed that he was gay. I was shattered but as his friend I could do nothing more then be there for him and be understanding and I was.

Australia brought a lot of new things for me. My first time drinking, trying drugs and discovering my sexuality. The first girl that I ever kissed was a knock out. Her name was Sara and she was fucking hot. Dark skin, long dark hair, perfect body and beautiful face. Every guy wanted her and every girl wanted to be her. I was hooked on girls just as much as boys from that point on.

Nine months of happiness was again to be torn away from me when my mother and Mark decided that it just wasn't working. I was yet again, devastated and suffered my worse heartbreak at that point. I remember my neighbors being there who had become like a second family to my brother and I. When I looked back and saw my little buddy Beau and how hurt he looked. I'd never seen him cry and it hurt so badly to watch those tears fall. Nathan looked lost, like he didn't really believe what was happening. Trina and Glen. My gods…my second set of parents. It was truly one of the saddest days of my life. I vividly remember the night before. I'd spent a lot of it with Zane. There was this spot between our houses where we often went and just talked. Hung out, like friends do. We spent our last time together there. I'd never seen him cry before and that night he bawled. Both of us cried together. My heart broke into a million pieces.

We moved from the beautiful Australia to Portales, New Mexico. That place was like walking into the fucking twilight zone. My grandparents wouldn't allow my family to move in with them in Florida. They said that they were starting a new life and they didn't want us to mess it up. So we moved into my aunt's two bedroom apartment. It was so cramped with five of us living there. My room was the couch and I used the hall way closet for my clothes. My brother and mother took my cousin's room and Leah moved in with my aunt. It was a hard three months and I didn't make any friends really. I knew that it wasn't permanent.

Finally, after fighting my mother decided that we were moving to Florida. We would be living with my grandparents until we got back on our feet. It wasn't such a bad time there and I was immediately put into school. My first day was hell. I missed Australia so much and I wanted nothing more then to go back. Then I met Brian. He took me under his wing and basically took care of me. I also met Alicia and she and I became immediate good friends. I spent so much time with those two. Later on would come Julia whom I love dearly. Then the Tracey~la. Things were good again. Life was good. Julia and I started dating and that lasted seven months. I ended up cheating on her and its something that to this day I truly regret. I loved her. I really did and we went through a really rough patch but somehow we fixed things and we're best friends.

Then my mother started using crack…and life went to hell.
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