Good morning world... again

(It's a damned novel, but trust me, it's worth it.)

Hey. I guess this is more of a diary than anything else, but I don't believe that any of my thoughts should be hidden within, or in a book that only I see. I want people to understand me for who I am and why I am the way I am.

I've tried this several times in the past but then I get lazy This time I'm going to try to stick with it. It's going to be big, I know it, I feel it, it's going to help me cope with things, help me decide, help people understand me, help them know who I really am. I feel it all coming, like a change in the weather. My knees are stiff, my shoulders ache. It's more than that. That awesome tingly feeling deep down within that starts small and spreads infinitely to every corner of my being is beginning it's slow spread.
I'm not... average. I hate to say normal there, because normal isn't real. There isn't a normal, we're all normal to ourselves, and weird to everyone else. It's these quirks that make us who we are. There is one thing I can say though, and it's that this experience, this life, this existence, is made for people like me.

I look at the world as if it's a playground. An area for me to roam around in, to do whatever I want, to have fun doing it. Everyone needs to live life this way.

I'm Chris, a sixteen-going-on-seventeen year old male. I grew up in a series of basements, moving from one house to another, living with grandparents, for most of all my life so far. My father left us when he found out my mother was pregnant with me. The people I grew up around were mostly family, my grandmother, aunt, and cousin, then later my sister. After my sister's father decided to divorce my mother, it became a house with only one male, Me.
I went to elementary school, homeschooled for first and second grade, went back, then left again during my fifth grade year. I had friends, I had clothes on my back, and I had food. I never needed more, even though I asked. I learned my mother couldn't make enough money to provide for all the things I wanted while still taking care of me when I wasn't at school. I never needed attention, or punishment, or mental therapy. Even though I saw that my friends had two parents each, I didn't mind because all I needed was my mother. Yeah, I'm a momma's boy.
She was there for me my whole life, provided the things she could, treating me and my sister when she had the money. Grandma would take me to go eat fancy dinners, the waitresses would always comment on how much I could eat.
I had everything I needed. Family and friends.

I could lean on my family when times were tough. I could cry and have my mother comfort me. There was a hug whenever I needed one. I had a happy childhood. I'm grateful for it.

The way I was brought up has a large impact on my outlook on the world. Because I always had someone there for me, there was never any pent-up emotion. It all just... flows. It wasn't just someone though, it was my mother. She gave me strength when I was about to fall. Not some babysitter, or day-care cowboy, corralling children, keeping an eye on them. No, this was my mother, someone who shares my blood, that will always be there even after she's passed on. There will always be a little of mom in me.
Can day-care raised kids say that, I wonder? Is it a piece of Day Care Lady Jane that they keep with them? Hmmm...

The way I see the world... it's easy to explain but seemingly hard for people to implement because they have learned all their lives that happiness comes from having stuff, not relationships. Parents never there for their children try to make up for it with stuff. Time is of the essence.

The way I see the world... is that if you aren't having fun, you aren't doing it right. Because I was raised down near the bottom, I set my sights high and don't have any hard feelings when I'm let down. I know that failure is how we grow, how we learn. I know that things you can hold are more fleeting than things you can feel inside.
When I work, I don't think of it as work. I fold sheets and towels and napkins. Hundreds at a time. It's repetitive motion that would drain anyone else. It's drudgery. Hour after hour of folding things the same exact way. I MAKE it fun. I throw on a pair of headphones, crank up the happy hardcore dance music, and dance my way through the day. Not only am I more efficient and more awake, but I'm having fun, enjoying the hours and hours of towels and sheets and napkins.
I can do this because I know that there will always be something exciting around the bend, something new and fun to try out, new people to meet, and new feelings to have. Yeah, I know some not-so-ideal things can happen that will probably bring me down, but you know what I do to get through the tough? I take what I have and run with it. I'll pull out Counter-Strike: Source and play some deathmatch rounds. It's how I got through my sister moving to Arizona to live with her dad.

I, on the inside, am three different people. Not three personalities, or three people really, but more three versions of me. Three moods.
The first, which is the real me, the inside me that doesn't really get out much, is an arrogant, self-centered, happy, and fun-loving, romantic.
The second me is the Family me. The person who's brought out into the open when I'm around my family. Family me is considerate, loving, happy, content, respectful, and very quiet, afraid to challenge authority.
The third me, the friends me, comes out after a buffer period of about 6-10 hours. It's patient, waiting for the family me to go away. It's quiet, a follower, eager to please, semi-arrogant, and ready to make it's own choices in life. It's the closest to me I really get out in the real world.

The second Me has trouble with choices. I'm always a follower in mode 2. I do what I'm told, though I hold off on doing it for a long time... lazy bum.
The third Me is better, but only with changes that have consequences for just me. I can't make decisions for other people, even when they ask me my opinion on something. Often when everyone else has had a chance to decide what we do, the decision will come to me. I draw a blank, like there's nothing I would ever want to do.

Recently a fourth Me has come into the picture. This, strangely enough, is a me I can only be when I'm around a certain person. I'm beginning to realize that the statement "missing what's right in front of your face" applies here. I've been jealous of my friend and his girlfriend. I want what they have. A serious relationship, something I've never had. I went out searching for a girl that would be someone I could do that with. All I found were girls who wanted few things, sex, money, gifts, looks. There weren't any who would like me for who I am, or for what I wanted out of the relationship.
I was looking too far from home. Looking past someone who has been in my mind the whole time I've known her. I need to get this out there so those not quite in the loop can keep up with how things are going with me, and how I've been feeling recently, but I'm sure she'll see it. It's a confusing situation for me. I guess it wouldn't hurt eh? Better to be out in the open than be hiding behind a shallow facade.
I've known this girl for a few years now, not really talking to her much even though I've been dying to talk to her for the longest time. A family friend's daughter, in fact. Between the time I first met her and the next time I really saw her, I grew very shy. I was having problems talking to people, girls more so. It's got to be coming on five years now. At the beginning of this month, though, I broke through that. I talked to her at a party, and now she knows I'm talking about her. I guess I was a hit, because for some strange reason, that little bit of conversation was worthy of a hug when she left. It felt awesome. Started off the year the right way. (I probably won't have the balls to tell you this in person, BTW.)
So we got together a week or so after that. Mainly on my suggestion I think. I still feel way too forward about the way that went down, and the way things are going on now. Anyway >.<
The whole trip was awkward for me, I felt odd. She kept losing me. I was still in "follower" mode, and wasn't really standing next to her, but more behind her. I feel bad for that, that I didn't stay closer. She kept looking around and saying "Where's Chris at?". I was invisible, and not by being excluded. Oh no, I was never excluded. I just... it was instinct, something that I need to break out of. I unintentionally hid out of sight. I subconsciously was afraid of being seen, of being noticed, of being included. I kept trying to stop myself from fading away into the background, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't.
It took the car trip home to realize what I had missed, what I wanted to be a part of so badly, was more than that. It was somewhere I could feel comfortable. She threw vagina insults at her sister's friend. That's what won me over in the end. That's what made me feel comfortable finally. It was a huge weight off my shoulders. I felt released from the bonds my subconscious had placed on me. Unrestrained, uninhibited. Happy.
Being in that car with her made me happy. Being with her makes me happy, even if just for a little bit. It always has, just been dulled by the endless banging of my subconscious saying NO! DON'T SAY ANYTHING, YOU'LL FUCK IT UP. I couldn't be me before.
We haven't done anything since then, and I'm really eager to. I want to get together with her again soon, so I can see if the bonds have really been lifted, if I'll really feel comfortable, if I can be happy like that again. If I can be me again, the romantic that dreams of a perfectly happy relationship instead of meaningless sex, dreams of just being with someone else and having that be all that's required for happiness.

Let's pray I don't mess this up. I hope I can do it without being too forward.

Now if my cousin reads this like I'm going to ask him to, I hope you'll still respect me. That you'll still think of me in the same way, just with a better understanding of what the hell goes on in this head of mine. This is who I am, the me I have a hard time sharing with everyone.