Welcome to my happily ever after...

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1989

I�m going to write everything about London. I promise myself to write it all down. But my mind has been on overdrive lately. I have such a need to document my life. Really, I have a lot of stories to tell. My life has been crazy.

Most of my stores start in 1990 when I first went off to college. My curfew in high school was 11:30! Can you believe that? Oh trust me, I found plenty of ways to get in trouble before 11:30. Remind me to tell you how my Junior year in high school I got stinky drunk off California Coolers wine coolers and threw up in bed with my grandmother. But that is fun for later.

But my stories start my sophomore year in high school.

In 1988 I went to rehab for drinking. I came home drunk one night and ended up spending the night in charter hospital for the summer.

But let�s skip ahead a bit.

In 1989 I met a girl named Dana. She was three years older than me, so she was 19 then. I was always premature, and even when I was 17, my friends were way older than me. You know the high school legends that graduated and stayed in town to still relive their high school years? Well those were my friends. I would skip school and hang out at their apartments. We�d drink and get high all day. Then I would somehow go home and do my homework. I somehow graduated with a 4.0 grade point average. I think I was desperate for some fun.

Back to Dana. She was damaged somehow. I could tell that, even with my 17 year old psyche. She had just come back from college in Louisiana, and she thrilled me with her stories of freedom. Growing up Baptist was so hard for me, and I felt free hanging out with Dana. I could SMOKE cigs at her apartment, and I even had a t-shirt that I wore there and left there. When I�d smoke and go home, my mom could always smell my shirt, and Dana offered to keep a shirt there that I could put on the minute I walked in the door. I took a Siouxsie and the Banshees concert shirt with me, and that was my uniform there with Dana.

Dana was wounded. She had been raped at school. At 17, I couldn�t really wrap my brain around that, but I did my best, and I could tell that she had issues with men. However, I could tell that she trusted me. She knew somehow that I was different. I loved Dana and I knew she loved me.

She and her Dad that she lived with just somehow knew that I was someone that could be trusted, and they would always let me take care of their place when they were out of town. Which was often. How many teenagers can say they had some place to go be totally alone to do whatever they wanted? Most guys would have jacked off until their dicks had fallen off, but not me. I put on my Siouxsie shirt and smoked my ass off.

Dana knew I was gay. I somehow knew she was a lez. She told me a million times that it was �ok to be gay�, an somehow I knew that was her was of telling me that she was a lesbian, but I wasn�t ready to come out at 17!

1:35 a.m. - 2003-07-20

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