I come from a working class family, and by family I mean my mom and I. My grandmother took us in when I was 10. Thinking about it I see snippets of memory: driving down a then unfamiliar street, turning down another to reach her place. I remember taking a look around and feeling the same. I'd moved plenty of times before so it was old hat by then.

There was the house we lived in before with my mother's ex-friend Michelle. We had to move out because she was dealing coke and selling herself out. I vaguely remember all of the strange men and women that'd come in at all hours of the night. Her son, Paul, and I slept in the same bed.

I always thought of Paul as naive, immature, but very tender (at the time I just thought he was weak). I didn't realize why, but he wanted to see my penis and have me play with it. He was 9 at the time. I think his mom's lifestyle affected him somehow. I remember his sadness when he found a dead group of baby bunnies in our yard. I keep hearing him saying 'they'll never open their eyes.'

Linolium stains, cheap carpets, the 70's style sex den that Michelle allowed us into on occasion. There were large trees with these huge fists of red needles, carpeting the sides and front year round.

I remember alot of the other places my mom and I lived in. Earliest I can think of is my grandfather holding a huge bag filled with snails and me throwing in a couple, or jumping off of a two story roof onto the ground below in the backyard.

At some houses I made alot of friends, some I just didn't bother or I couldn't make any. I never exactly had a home or any appreciation of what that meant. I still don't understand how anyone can feel attached to a place. The portrayal of the idealized family unit made me feel jealous and disgusted. I still remember getting weepy as a kid, watching the opening credits for some neo Brady Bunch sitcom starring Suzanne Summers. I always wanted siblings, a father, some idea of completion...or not even the figures, just the sense that I was protected or that I could rely on someone. I figured out, though, that you didn't need any of that shit and that 99% of it was a lie. All you needed for security was yourself, maybe a few family members or good friends to toss around good times with.

I frankly don't know what security means. I have no insurance, can't rely on my mother or grandmother for money, can't ask them for advice, or expect anything to happen unless I make it happen. When I was growing up my mom and I made do and that usually meant going hungry or never getting some cool toy. I remember her nearly crying as she dropped me off at my high school one day, saying that she wished she could have had more money or had been a better mom. I told her it was ok.

And it is ok. I'm not a victim, I'm not abused, and I'm not failing myself. Given what I came from...yeah, I think I did and am doing ok.

I don't tell you about my past often because it doesn't serve much point. The truth is irrelevant here, since what you see is what you get.

I hope you understand why I do not, nor probably ever will fully rely on you for anything. Not to get into self-pitying histrionics, but if my own mother let me raise myself at the age of 12 and just stood back afterwards; if I have to pay for all my medical bills and pray to God I never get seriously injured or sick; if all the adults from my childhood or what most of my friends ever did was weep by themselves or into my lap as I comforted them and helped with their problems, one cannot expect me to feel secure about or have faith in anything but myself and myself alone. It is common sense given my upbringing, not bitterness.

Quite simply, I know that you're around as long as we have something to learn from each other, whether you just read my journal or know me. I know how fleeting love can be and how easily it is forgotten. I've left and been left by it plenty of times. Yet, there is always some purpose behind developing love and I've never grown cold to that; I happily can't.

But I remember happiness too and maybe I can find that in myself someday. Maybe you'll help in some way. We shall see, hm?

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