In 10 days, I will be 30. 30 years of living, giving, taking, loving, and hating. 30 years of dreams and nightmares. 30 years of finding myself, and still havent. Friends came and went, as did foes. Some things I remember, most things I dont.Why is it so easy to remember those who burned you and knocked you down, but not the ones that helped pick you back up again? Are we destined to only focus on the negative? Lord knows I've done my share of heartbreak and destruction. Burning and backstabbing. Ive also done plenty of loving and caring. For a long time I was more or less alone. Deeds done that next to noone know of. Errors in my past I would do anything to take back. Memories I'm cursed to play out in my head for the remainder of my life. We all have skeletons. Anyone who claims not to, is lying. I wait for that profound moment when I will "grow up". So far, nothing. I just look older, feel older.
Growing up, my parents did the best they could. Hormones kicked in at 9. Puberty hit and I no longer knew what or who I was. As a teenager, I dropped into a chasm, ruled by depression. Noone liked me, but just as well for I didnt like them. I liked guys, but had no identifying word for what I was. Had noone to talk to. The friends I grew up with cast me off as a freak and avoided me. Older I got, the gayer I got. Still, no advice. My junior year of high school, I started hitting the internet hard, looking for more "people like me". It was pretty difficult and, sufficed to say, was very disappointed with what I found. Sex, Sex, Sex. And, of course, as a teenager I was sucked into that negative area with not a single person to learn from or look up to. About mid-way through my senior year of high school, I strated hanging out with a group of outcasts. They were the most creative and, well, nerdy people I had ever talked to. They were awesome. I hung out with them alot and wished I had met them sooner. Right after graduation, we parted ways again.... or rather, I disappeared. I came out and moved out. Shortly after finding an apartment in University City, I met my first boyfriend. Having no past history with a man, nor having any support or leadership in the gay department, proceeded to go out with him. Daniel was abusive, both verbal and physical, and dealt coke (I found out at the end of the relationship). Bad things happen to bad people and our relationship ended quite involuntarily. After him, I moved here and there, working here and there trying to find myself. No luck.
On October 26th, 2001... I answered an ad looking for an assistant in Los Angeles. I was done with Missouri and needed a change. I hopped on a bus and headed for California. Most people would view this as both extremely risky and completely irresponsible. I was 19. I needed a thrill. The job was on the level and I got hired. I worked there for a month or two before getting a job in a bar in West Hollywood on friday and saturday nights as a dancer. I held these jobs until mid-2002. While in a bar called "The Abbey" one night, met an awesome awesome guy named Michael. He worked for a software developing company and we dated for a good 5 months before I screwed it up really bad. After that ended, I got an apartment off of Colfax in North Hollywood. I quit my 2 jobs and became a waiter. Dated off and on for a while. The California lifestyle just didnt seem right for me and soon moved back to Missouri and skipped around for a bit until I found a roommate in Valley Park. I worked 3rd shift at a gas station for a while. He got weird. The job got old, I moved on again. This time landing back in the city, on Hartford Street. Where stability finally set in for the first time in my adult life. I started seeing a guy named Lance. I started working for Home Depot on South Kingshighway. I started making really great friends again. Lance was a wiccan and, at the time, didnt understand the religion and a few other things he did. We broke up. A few months later, while at work, I get a call from by older half sister in Montana whom I hadnt seen since I was 2 or 3. Reconnected with my birthmother and, before long, took a 10 day vacation to Montana to meet them. It was... awkward. They are really great people, just felt strange to see someone after so long and not even recognize the fact they were family. My sister is a great person, and my bio-mom is a very generous person for the community in a small resort town called Polson. I think if everyone volunteered half as much as she does, people would be alot happier. Upon coming back to St Louis, I met a man. Eric. Great guy, great smile, amazing eyes, wonderful daughter. We started seeing eachother and it quickly became serious.
I rapidly destroyed that relationship. By this point my depression and self denial had returned in full force. I became angrier and angrier. I loathed myself and blamed people around me for the way I felt. I turned vanity into a sick cry for attention. My job was my saving grace and kept me sane. I loved that job. I was good at it, better than good. I contributed my soul to it. I was truly happy when I went and clocked in. Helping all those people made me feel like the world was a better place. Then, I clocked out and the anger returned. Finally on Dec. 19th, I left my favorite job. 2 days later, I left the man I wrecked...Montana bound. I was looking for a change. I found it, but not right away. I moved in with my sister and got a job archiving for a military contracting company. I drove to the nearby town of Missoula every chance I got to be around people and for the shopping. And bars. After 4 months of isolation in Polson, I had to get out. I visited Missoula and in one day landed a job in a factory and found an apartment with a guy I had begun seeing. We had a rocky and brief relationship, but the job held strong. Shortly after the relationship ended, I met another amazing man. And it was in no way meant to be serious, just a casual meeting. Strong, determined, focused, yet light hearted and fun. Honest eyes with a little humor in them. Despite lying about his age at first, he was and is a beautiful man in every way important...and not.
So, here I am. 10 days from 30. Engaged to that beautiful man. Communicating better with my father than I ever have. Surrounded by wonderful friends. In a town filled with the most diverse crowd imagineable, nestled in a valley lined with mountains. I have my health, my job, my creativity, a photography company of my own, and a blue car named 'Bunneh' with severly expired plates. I have good days and I have bad days, but dont we all? 10 days from 30, what will the future hold? Marriage, home-ownership, and a car with legal plates. Not to mention more twists and turns, ups and downs. 10 days from 30, I see bright days ahead.
