Life of a Mortal
Short Biography of David Mueller
It was the year 1982. The year I was born. My childhood memories are blurry at best. I know that I was born on a military base in San Antonio, Texas. Some two years after I was born, my parents decided to seperate. Of course, each of them has their own story of how it went. We moved to various areas in the south before finally settling here in Huntsville, Alabama. I have two seperate memories that vie for the title of “earliest memory”. One of an old green station wagon, and another of being tackled into a river or some body of water by an adult friend of mine and my mother’s.
My mother met Sal. The tall, dark, mechanic type that she always seems to fall for. But none of that mattered to me. He had a waterbed. For that alone I wanted to be there all the time. I was there more and more often and before I knew it i was in a little five year old sized suit attending my mother’s wedding in her mother’s living room. Her mother is someone I am not fond of. But maybe I’ll get to that later. Sal was good to me. Always tried to be what of a father he could to me without being overbearing. He wasnt a “drunk.” He could carry about his normal life. But when he was home he and his friends would sit around drinking. The laziness of all of this drove my mother to leave him. But I jump ahead of myself.
During my time living at Sal’s, I was introduced to my first memorable friend, Eric. I was about five years old at this time, and Eric was probably 10 or 11. I’m an only child. So I always kinda have this thing of finding someone to look up to. So, Eric quickly became my big brother. Whether he liked it or not. We spent a good amount of our time together. Stayed over at each other’s houses a lot. Built crude ramps to jump our bikes off of. I spent time with him and his mother at her boyfriend’s farm. Not a whole lot out of the usual. I remember once playing “hide and seek” on the monstrous stack of hay inside the barn. I jumped down what i thought was a three foot hole, and ended up falling about ten feet. And believe me, when you’re three-and-a-half feet tall, a ten foot fall into darkness is a terrifying thing. I, of course, screamed bloody murder and Eric helped me out.
Eric had his dark side though. He had a lot of anger in him, for whatever reason. And I was, I wouldn’t say “abused”, but I was hit more than your average big brother hits his little brother. I also recall an incident where metal darts from a dartboard were thrown at me. And another where I was beaten for telling his mother that he’d tried smoking. But these weren’t beatings. Two or three punches to the ribs or back, that was all. I’d receive worse later just horsing around with my father, but again I get ahead of myself.
My stepfather’s drinking had finally taken its toll on my mother, and they seperated and we moved across town to the suburban little area of South Huntsville. And here, the sum of my memories takes over.
I’d previously been in Montview Elementary and before that I was briefly enrolled at a religious themed school. But my mother quickly took me from there when she learned that if I’d been “bad” they made me sit in a corner and pray. She didnt like the idea that they were making me think “god” was mad at me. Also I should point out that Montview was the first place I can remember religion confusing me. Paraphrased, religion basically says God is responsible for everything good, and the Devil is responsible for everything bad. So the only sense this makes to the five year old version of me is that if I do something bad, the Devil must be responsible for it. I remember getting in trouble for doing something, and them asking me why I did it, and myself saying basically “The Devil made me do it.” That should make sense right? The Devil is responsible for everything bad, therefore if I do something bad, it’s his fault. Well, not as far as the school was concerned. I was probably given a good amount of sentences to write for whatever I’d done. But from that moment on, religion just left a bad taste in my mouth.
Once in the suburbia of South Huntsville, I was enrolled in third grade at Mountain Gap Elementary. This was quite a jump for me. In third grade at Montview, we’d only been doing double digit multiplication. The class I moved into Mtn. Gap was already into long division. This most likely explains why I’ve always had problems with mathematics. Also in the fourth grade when we were just getting into studying handwriting, I was moved into a different class that had already been through handwriting. So now, my handwriting is just about as bad as my math. Another time in fifth grade, I lost a class spelling bee because of my teacher’s southern accent. The word was “bakeware” but her accent made it sound like “bakeweigher”, which is what I spelled out, and I lost. Funny how I remember only bad things about elementary. I like to think of myself as a victim of the system. I didnt really have a lot of friends aside from the people who lived on my block. I remember having a crush on a girl named Mandy. She and her friend Jenny and I would all hang out a lot. Chris was also a friend from these times I’d met in Boy Scouts. He also lived on my block and his mother was our “den mother”. Looking back now she was pretty hot for a mom. But I digress.
Moving into middle school I was thrust into a whole new way of learning. Lockers, switching classes, having new people to sit around in each class. I was overwhelmed and at the same time, I remember walking down the hall and feeling the immense sense of pride that I’d made it that far. This was to be the last time I remember having a feeling like that. I had my various crushes and made new friends. Or at least tried to. I can’t say I was ever good at making friends. I was quite the annoying little bitch for most of my childhood. The friends I’ve had have always just happened as opposed to being made.
Two of the first friends I remember are Dave and Tom. Dave was a taller, skinnier boy with a long face and big circular glasses. I always thought he looked kind of like a cartoon character. We hung out a lot together despite our very different lives. I, an only child living with just my mother, and him, with two older sisters and overly religious and fairly nerdy parents. I find it amusing and ironic that my oldest friend and I have come out of the school system as complete opposites yet we still get along great. He, now an ordained minister and me, despising religion as I do.
Tom was and is quite the hazardous child. He liked to destroy things, and jump around and scream a lot. He was also very troubled. His father seemed very harsh the few times I ever met him. Tom, Dave, and I were kind of a trio of best friends. We all gave each other a new brother. They are still the same way to each other. I however began to drift to the inevitable, the opposite sex.
My first ever real girlfriend when I was old enough to understand what “girlfriend” meant was Kristin. She had long curly brown hair and was gargantuan for a girl her age. Not fat, just very tall and big. I remember her now as one of the kindest and most gentle people I’ve ever known. The relationship between me and her started quite odd. We were on our eighth grade band trip to Panama City Beach. (I played clarinet.) Among other friends I’d met a girl named Brandy and had developed a good sized crush on her. On the beach the message got passed around that I liked her and soon enough one of our mutual friends had decided to ask her out for me. She said no of course. I’ve gotten that answer more than a few times. But Kristin, a girl I’d barely known yet, decided she felt bad for me, and decided to ask me out to replace what hurt she thought there would be from Brandy saying no. But by this time in my life I’d learned rejection already so it didnt phase me too badly.
So we began a sheepish two day long relationship. Not a whole lot out of the ordinary. I put my arm around her on the ferris wheel. Movie kinda stuff. She then decided we were moving too fast and broke it off. No less than a day later, I was “dating” a girl named Jessica. Also one of the new friends I’d met. I wouldnt call it a rebound, but it was ill-fated at best. And by the time we got back home her and I had broken up for reasons I can’t remember.
Ah, eighth grade. Eighth grade is the one year in my life I wish I could go back and relive over and over. Innocence and fun. I hadn’t known true pain yet. We walked to Brandy’s from school on our last day, a good two to three mile walk, the fifteen of us. But Emily and her mom drove by in their minivan. So the fifteen of us piled into a seven person minivan and rode over to Brandy’s for the first time of many that summer. Brandy had an in-ground pool, and really cool parents. So we were over there all the time.
I honestly can’t remember a lot of that summer. I just know it was one of the best I’ve ever had. But into ninth grade we go. Into the grand world of Grissom High School. This school was always filled to twice it’s capacity. So I pretty much had to waddle through the halls. For whatever reason, ninth grade was the lowest point in my life. I can’t remember why for the life of me. But if you were to pick out any point in my life where I might have killed myself, that was it. The old group I was used to was split greatly in the move to high school. So again, I was more or less alone. But the group and I eventually found what ways we could to regroup. I made new friends and remade old friends. Even had a torrid little love triangle going on between myself, Dave, and his long time girlfriend Lisa. Dave and Lisa would run into troubles, and Lisa would come to me seeking advice. Whether or not based on my advice, they would break up. Within the same week, Lisa and I would be “going out” as the term was then. This happened twice in the space of a month. So I admit, I was the “break” or the rebound, but I can’t say it wasnt fun. In the end she stayed with him. At least, long enough for an old flame to reignite...
In the midst of this ninth grade haze, Kristin had moved away with her family. She and her best friend, Emily, also one of my good friends, had kept in touch and it was decided that Kristin would come to visit. I had undergone some internal changes between the time Kristin and I had first been together and the time she came back to visit. Things were very different when she came back into my life. We’d both matured, however slightly and a light shone upon her that I’d never seen before. Fairly quickly we began a more intense relationship than we had before. I was caught in the trappings of my movie nerddom though. And caught myself saying “I love you” for the mere joy of hearing myself say it, rather than actually meaning it. However, I was with her long enough and actually started to love her to where I came to mean it, so I saved myself in that manner.
She stayed here for a month’s time and then returned home. Going with her to the airport is one of two times I remember really crying. I was outright sobbing. I remember seeing through my tears my hands holding me to the guard rail near the window and tear drops falling and staying to my shirt. I also remember seeing a young child watching me, trying to figure me out. I’m willing to bet I look pretty ugly when I cry. I’m thankful to Emily and her mother for forcing me off of that rail otherwise we might have ever left. I’d like to say we continued our relationship over the long distance, but it didnt happen that way. It took no more than a week for me to get tired of not being able to see her every day as I’d done while she was here. So I broke up with her. Unbeknownst to me however, another had their sights already set on me.
Ellexus was another friend I’d met on the long journey through ninth grade. Her skin was the color of chocolate and she had big beautiful wandering brown eyes. She also had a smile that could melt the coldest heart. I’d experienced a brief crush on her in the beginning of ninth grade. We “went out” for about a week until she decided she didnt get to see enough of me and broke up with me. As insignificant as this may seem, this marked the first time I’d ever been truly honest with someone about the break up of a relationship. Not “i understand” or “it must be for the best”. I simply asked her...”why?” That was a breakthrough for me in its own.
Within the same day that I’d sent Kristin the break-up email, which I feel really bad about doing through email now, I learned that Ellexus liked me. And I was quite fond of her as well. The way this happened was quite humorous actually. I vividly remember standing on the diving board at Brandy’s pool, talking to Brandy and someone else on the other end of the pool and since Ellexus had been telling them she liked me, we eventually got to that topic. Brandy asked me “Would you go out with Ellexus if she asked you?” No more than a second later Ellexus came walking around the side of the house to the pool area, totally unaware of the whole thing. So I blurted out obviously enough “Yes, I would go out with Ellexus if she asked me.” Of course then for the friend’s sake we had to actually go through the formality of me asking her out. From there we began the biggest and most importantly, my first relationship in my life.
With Ellexus, I experienced euphoria for the first time. Granted our relationship was probably half physical, we were both deliriously happy and inseperable. She was quite simply my strongest love ever. My connection to her would transcend normal boundaries. One night they were on a “girls night out” and had gone to the dollar movie theater we had then. I felt an irrestible urge to go. I was not yet driving at this time, so I got my mother to drop me off there and as I arrived I saw Ellexus vomiting at the side of the movie theater. Who knows how long she’d been sick, or how long she’d have had to stay if I hadn’t called my mother to come pick us up.
Very many times I rode to her house and back on my bike, about two miles each way, in the middle of winter just to come see her. We’d watch movies, just lay there looking at each other, I’d watch her sleep. I think if not for her I’d have grown up somewhat racist. The south does that to people. Her grandmother had a harshness to her, but she was generally nice. She lived with her grandmother. Her mother and her brother Charlie lived somewhere else. They were both regular visitors tho and all three of them seemed to like me. I can’t remember any specific events that led to our breakup. I’d had my first taste of it on the night before Valentine’s day in 1998.
She had been talking to Dave and his long-time girlfriend Audrey about me and they’d convinced her that being with me was taking away from her relationship with “god”. I remember climbing up a tree in my backyard and just sitting there for an hour or so. No one knew what had happened, and a good number of them were concerned I’d jump out and kill myself. But no, I’m stronger than that. I eventually climbed down and started telling people. I told Sara first, one of Ellexus’s best friends, and I started crying. This was to be the last time I’ve ever cried. Whatever the reasons for our eventual breakup, I only know that it was mutual. We both felt trapped in something neither of us wanted to be in anymore. So we broke up. It actually went well and we remained friends. That’s when all hell broke loose.
I’d had decided I’d have enough of not being with her and I wanted her back. So I asked her out again. Much to my surprise, she said “no.” This I was definitely not prepared for. I didnt know what to make of it, or anything else for that matter. I was reeling inside myself, trying to figure out how to cope with this. I wanted her, I hated her for rejecting me, I hated anyone that tried to console me or help me fix thing. I hated her future boyfriends, her friends, her family. I didnt want to kill her, but I never wanted to see her again. At the same time though, I wanted nothing more than to be with her. This sent me into a hell that I honestly can’t remember a lot of. I do remember it took me two years before I could look at her without some feeling of malice and anger. I’d found a new person to hate even more.
Heather. Heather was something new entirely. I’d seen her randomly throughout the halls of our school as I did many people. But she always struck me as interesting. She was very small. Only up to my shoulder and she couldnt have weighed more than ninety pounds. She always had some interesting color to her hair, a long black coat, and she seemed to always be wearing this Marilyn Manson baby tee.
For two years I’d seen her in the halls and not known her. Then, in my junior year, I ended up meeting her through new friends I’d made, Jackie, Sarah, and Jessica. One day Justin, those three, Heather, and myself all went to Oktoberfest, a small fair event held on the military base here. Although I didnt really talk to her til later at Justin’s house. We were all in Justin’s room. As small as she was, she’d managed to fall between Justin’s bed and the wall. So, forsaking all polite possibilities, I reached down, grabbed her what little ass she had, pulled her up, and introduced myself. We gradually started talking more and more and after my failed attempts at asking Jackie out, I was “pawned off” to Heather.
She was very sweet, and very wild. She cussed just about as much as I do which of course is something I admire in a woman. Her size freaked me out as much as it intrigued me. I could put my arms around her and my hands would reach around to her opposite sides. But it was fun because I like to carry people around. A lot of people said we made the perfect couple. Despite our size difference. I’ve never been small. With her I gained my now ever-present biting fetish. Although I now have a feeling she just put up with it as opposed to liking it. I loved her very much. I was once gone for a couple days from school in those couple days my algebra teacher had allowed us to swtich our seats around. Heather was in this class with me. When I came back though, my teacher was absolutely and almost angrily denying me the chance to move my seat next to hers. But this served a future purpose.
Her family was also nice. Her dad was disabled in a war. He had a bum leg. So I imagine they had a pretty hefty disability check from the government every month. If he did work, I was never told where. They had a very nice house with a fireplace, a big screen television, a laserdisc player, three corvettes, and always ate full meals at dinner.
The family also carried with it somewhat of a curse. A certain blood disorder that I forget the name of. It caused her oldest of two brothers to die and the day they buried him, her mother died of the same disorder. Heather always said she’d died of a broken heart. Her other brother was a decent guy but I didnt hang out with him a whole bunch. Her dad was a little quiet man, though he went out to clubs and bars a lot. In one strange incident a year or two after my time with Heather, my mother ended up dating him after they met each other on the internet.
During my time with her, any time she sensed a problem, she’d start talking about killing herself. This alone started to drive me crazy. She seemed very hung up on her last boyfriend Stephen, who she said she’d heard the gunshot of him killing himself on the phone with her. I was soon to learn however that this act of suicidal tendencies was merely a game she used to hold me to her. She knew I wouldnt be able to live with myself knowing she’d killed herself because I broke up with her. The last two months of our four month relationship was spent this way. Eventually, it wore thin.
We finally broke up, on pretty good terms. We remained friends, and I turned into somewhat of a big brother to her. Trying to keep her safe and such. This was to be our undoing. She had come into contact with a boy named Robert. He was one of many in middle school that made fun of me on a daily basis and even once knocked me onto the ground for absolutely no reason. So naturally, I was prejudiced against him and cautioned her about him. She told me she wouldnt see him. However, she’d already seen him the night before. So she was lying. But I didnt know this yet. I wasnt to find this out for a few nights later when Jessica, though she had a history of “exaggerating”, was to tell me everything I needed to know.
My suspicions of Heather had already been aroused, and one night they all came together. She was off at Melissa’s house. She had called me just to randomly talk and in the conversation said that I couldnt call back because Melissa’s mother was asleep. Five minutes later, she says that she has to go because Melissa’s mom needs the phone. Poor trusting me doesnt catch this until Jessica points it out. If there’s one thing in this world that I can’t stand, it’s lying. I became very enraged and must have been quite a sight because everyone was telling me to calm down. I dont remember doing much tho except sitting there staring at the floor and fuming.
So now, I hated Heather. With a raging fury. Much more than I’d ever hated Ellexus. I now saw a reason that my teacher unknowingly had to keep me from moving my seat next to hers. I’d have been stuck sitting next to her for what was left of the year. I’m now grateful to her, despite having failed that class. Like I said, I’ve always been bad at math.
The hell I was in after Heather was far greater than anything with Ellexus and helped put my relationship with Ellexus in perspective. I began to hate her gradually less. Coming out of my relationship with Heather, everyone told me I was a dick while I was with her. Which I probably was. This was my first experience in apathy. After Heather, I didnt care about anything. I was emotionally drained. I was just watching everything happening and not really caring about where it went. For this reason, again, I can’t remember much of what was happening afterwards.
I do remember my friends though. They at least tried to help me through it all. We would all hang out in the lunchroom before school. I’d always go early for lack of anything else to do. They helped keep me occupied so that eventually the aftermath of Heather floated to the back of my mind. The summer of my junior year was when I made my big transformation. First, I’d written myself a story called “Morte” throughout summer school. In it, Hannah, the story’s version of Heather, I had beaten into a bloody mess and ripped out her heart. So in a way that gave me some kind of closure. In fact, that’s the story I was planning to revise when I ended up writing this biography.
I’d gone to visit my father in Georgia. My father is a big bear of a man who would go to a Jimmy Buffett concert just as soon as he’d go to a Metallica concert. He looks kinda like a redneck, but possesses at least a general intelligence that pulls him above that. He’s been married six times, twice to the same woman, my mother being the first. I get my arrogant bastard side from him. He was more of my friend than my father though. Most of his side of my family is like that. My grandfather, my uncle Bruce, my aunt Susan, my stepmother Micki, I’d call them all friends before I’d call them family. Dont misunderstand, that’s a good thing.
I’d gone to visit him in Georgia, and we were all going in the van down to Florida to Universal Studios and Disney World. So, six hour car trip to georgia, six hours to florida, and back. So four six-hour car trips in the span of a week. That gave me a lot of thinking time. I didnt have a lot of CDs then, and the one I remember listening to most was Nine Inch Nails, The Downward Spiral. I listened to it repeatedly throughout these four trips. I didnt know it then, but I went through some huge changes at this time.
I came out of that trip like I was emerging from a dark cloud of ash. Everything seemed brighter, clearer, and refreshing. I can’t say I was happy, but I was finally content. Not sad, not distraught, just content. I liked the way the world looked. It was kinda like going through a mental puberty. Like my mind aged five years all of the sudden. Almost so far as that I could even see better after all of this. It’s like I left my old self in that van and came out of it a butterfly spreading it’s wings and finding somewhere new to explore. Also, another odd relationship I’d wandered into helped me through all of this...as far as how my perspective of things changed after the trip.
Michelle I’d met through emails of other friends. About my height, 5’8”, long blond hair and big brown eyes. We were sparsely talking and no more than other friends do. One day, in my email I told her to come over because we needed some new faces around my house. My house had become the general hangout for all my friends. So she came over and we went out to search for Robert and Candice whom we were told were somewhere on Aldridge Creek Greenway. So we got into her big ghetto car and sped off to the Greenway looking for them. In that hour of being with her, something just clicked. It was amazing. I felt more in tune with her than anyone I’d ever been with in my life.
We began a fairly small and secretive relationship. She had a boyfriend at the time who was grounded until he finished summer school. So, we were together a lot of that time. I’d sit with my arms around her, walk her to her car as she left, and we’d endlessly hug each other at her car, joking about the situation we’d gotten ourselves in to. She was beautiful, she was sarcastic, and for that moment, she was mine. Then one day, driving her home from picking up her paycheck, we were driving through a neighborhood and she told me to stop in front of a certain house. I was thinking she was going to the house to do something. But before I could really think anything, she reached over, grabbed my head, and kissed me. Not a big sloppy movie kiss, just a small meeting of our lips together. It’s the last time I remember ever really feeling a kiss. Then I drove her home. I remember her commenting on the big goofy grin I had on my face the whole drive home.
You’d think everything would be smooth sailing from here on out right? Of course not. She got home, and began to cry. She felt she’d betrayed her boyfriend. She called him and told him and he basically for lack of a better word “forbid” her to see me. He also sent me emails telling me to stay away from her. I can’t say I blame him, but I didnt just sit there and take it either. I made sure he knew that it was up to her whether I continued to see her or not. I did sparsely. Talked to her through emails, on the phone, and saw her randomly. What we had had to fade away though for their sake.
Ah but history repeats itsself. In the middle of our senior year, she and that boyfriend broke up, for whatever reason. It was humorous, the surge of guys that went towards her after they broke up. But they filtered off for various reasons until it was just me, and my best friend at the time, Chris. But, guess who had the strike against them.
Her father had taken a stern dislike to me since the first time he’d seen me. Long black hair, Manson shirt, trenchcoat, makeup. A phase that I’ve long since been out of. It was enough for him to make it clear that if she and I started dating, he would keep her homebound and I’d rarely get to see her. I even went so far as to write him a letter explaining my feelings for his daughter and my regret for making him dislike me. But I never gave it to him. In the midst of me trying to fix things though, she’d chosen to go with Chris.
I dont think either of them know the toll this took on me. I went through violently jealous stages. Going so far as to say neither of them were allowed in my house anymore. If I couldnt have her, I didnt want to see either of them. I regret all this now. I no doubt lost two good friends to this. They were both great to me, and I basically threw them out of my life. It took a lot of time though for me to look at them without some feeling of jealousy or anger. They had no idea what they’d done to me. I couldnt feasibly be mad at them for it, and I was. They are still together now and I’m happy for them. Despite what it did to me, they have made each other very happy.
Near the end of all this, I met Tiffany. Tiffany was a unique soul indeed, despite how much she reminded everyone of Heather. People again said we made the perfect couple. The first time I ever saw her, her sandy blond hair was down to her shoulders and she was wearing a soccer outfit. The next time I saw her to pick her up for a high school football game we all went to (we had nothing better to do), her hair was tied behind her head, and she was wearing dark makeup and skintight black tanktop and pants. Needless to say, she had to jump out at me before I recognized her.
So off we went to the football game. She was currently lusting ater my enormous friend Justin, affectionately nicknamed Lurch. Somewhere between 6’0” and 6’5” and only a little less chubby than me. Goofy and perverted as well. But he and Emily, the good friend who reintroduced me to Kristin, were getting together at that time. So, Tiffany turned her sights on me. She’d seen me her first day of school, and on that day I’d actually worked up the balls to wear makeup to school. Which later in the year got me suspended, but I’ll get to that. Immediately she was interested in me.
So the game began. She wanted me, and she wouldnt stop til she had me. I was vaguely interested in her since she dressed like me and liked the same kind of music. One day, she jumped me in her bathroom and put her tongue down my throat. I have to say I was quite impressed. I’d been used to rejection, but I’d never had anyone actually coming after me. We eventually wiped our lipstick off of each other and went back out to the living room. I knew she wanted me, and something about the game of her chasing me excited me. So I held her off, continuing the game.
It culminated one night at the Homecoming dance when I was doing lights. I went to dance with her, in the middle of the song she threw her arms in the air saying “I give up.” That was the signal I needed. I grabbed her arm, pulled her back to me, and said “Fuck it, we’re going out now.” We actually went out twice over the space of somewhere between one month and two months. Both for about two weeks. It wasn’t the best of relationships, but it wasn’t horrible either. It taught me a lot about patience, and superficiality, and how not to respond to certain things. She ultimately moved on to date my good friend Greg whom she is now married to and is bearing a child with.
I also met the very vibrant and beautiful Jasmine. Jasmine was and is like no other person I’ve ever met. Boundless energy, uninhibited, extremely impulsive. I had more fun being around her than anyone else I can remember. It excited me just to be in her presence. Most thought she was annoying, but she was a godsend to me. She’s the one person I wish had never left my life. Sadly, she moved away during a time when I was sick and away from school and I never got her new address, phone number, email, nothing. She was gone as quickly as she’d come in to my life. I deeply regret that I didnt at least get to say goodbye.
I lived out the rest of my senior year like anyone else does. We had the usual huge party at the end of the year at graduation. It was a beautiful thing. Most of my old friends, my new friends, all together in the same room celebrating all we’d ever been through. By this time I was finally more or less coming to terms with the situation between Chris and Michelle and I. The night culminated in all of us singing Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. I probably would have cried, if I was able to. It was quite a hassle for me to actually graduate. Had to deal with credits I should have gotten, credits no one told me I needed, things of that nature. So much of a hassle in fact that for a good number of months afterwards I had dreams that I was having to take some final test that would get me out.
So out of high school now. Into the real world. In October of that year, I got a job delivering pizza at Papa John’s pizza through some friends of mine that worked there. That taught me what actually having a job was like. Making my own money, dealing with people, that sort of thing. After 7 or 8 months I had to quit though. The truck I was driving at the time didnt’ have air conditioning and it was getting into the late spring months. Much too hot for someone with such a heat condition as I have. That compounded by the two five-hundred degree ovens, it was time for me to move on. I went for longer than I should have without a job. About three months. By that time I had a cell phone and a gas bill. So my money started dwindling.
I had fun in this time though. I remember hanging out with Brandy and Reena a lot. I’ve noticed I’m attracted to very vibrant people. Reena was just that. Fairly violent as well but it was fun. We spent a lot of time at the hotel she lived at. Why she lived at a hotel I forget, but it didnt really matter. She did have a boyfriend though. So that kept me at bay somewhat. But that’s not to say I didnt still flirt with her every chance I got. She, like so many others, eventually had to move away. But this time, I got her email. So I still talk to her.
Three months passed between quitting Papa John’s and getting a new job. I first started at Hollywood 18. Which to this day was my worst job experience. However, my mother worked at Blockbuster Video part-time and told me they were looking for new people. So that became my new job.
I took that job to fill my mother’s spot that she had left when her boyfriend at the time, Jeff, had convinced her that he made enough for the both of them so she could quit. He wasn’t lying, he did. He was a generally nice guy. The tall, well not so tall, dark, mechanic type again. He was, however, a raging redneck. He worked construction on houses doing trimwork. Making a good four hundred to five hundred dollars a week if not more. For a couple months this was a great thing. He helped out with bills. Which was good because my mother had been caught by the debt monster and owed some ungodly amount of money.
He, too, had his dark side. Once he finally got comfortable with us, he began to drink. This wasn’t the harmless drinking that Sal had done. He’d drink himself stupid and then fall asleep on the couch. Forcing my mother and I to retreat to our seperate rooms so we didnt have to deal with him. Drunk, he got angry very easily. Sometimes suicidal. He’d start saying how he knew we were tired of him and held a knife to his wrist. While not violent, he would scream and argue unintelligibly, then get mad at us because we couldnt understand him. One day he was beating on my door as I was trying to sleep for some inane reason. I simply pretended I was still asleep and never acknowledged him. He was beating so hard on my door, I was afraid he’d end up breaking through it.
He tried all manner of things to get me out of my room. Trying to get me to fight him, saying bad things about me. “Nobody could sleep through that now wake the fuck up, son.” “Son.” Him saying that last word enraged me. I finally called my mother from my cell phone asking her to tell him to leave me the fuck alone so I could sleep. I definitely wasn’t going to talk to him.
This same day I believe it was, was his last with us. Fueled by the fact that I wouldnt acknowledge him, he started trying to destroy things that meant the most to my mother. He had bought her this big ceramic scene of unicorns and angels, and commenced to smashing it on the front porch. He took a piece of cinder block and scraped it down the hood of the truck my grandfather had half sold, half given to her. I’m convinced he slashed one of my tires but he doesnt admit to it. We finally got his knife from him and I hid it in my filing cabinet. I still have it. He was slow and staggery when drunk. My mother managed to get him outside and lock him out. But that didnt prevent him from breaking one of the small square windows on our back garage door and unlocking that door for himself. My mother then locked herself in her truck and called the police.
It was then that I learned what must be the most inane law still in practice that I’ve ever heard, and I have no doubt it stems from police no longer wanting to deal with domestic disputes. As the law goes, if someone is allowed to claim residence with you and lives with you for a certain amount of time, they basically own all your stuff. So, we couldnt even get him on destruction of property. Of course we could have taken him to small claims court but no one wants to deal with that.
Our only option was to wait for his brother’s wife to come pick him up and give him a change of clothes. Finally after that day we got rid of him, so to speak. Allowed him to get what few things were his and let him take the car he’d been using that we got for free from a friend of mine. Of course it didnt end there for my mother, but it did for me. I never saw him again. At least, not in reality. I had dreams of him coming back, of me scorning my mother for taking him back. Of him breaking everything in our house. But these eventually stopped and I was allowed to move on with my own life.
In the middle of all this, I had the most recent and most powerful love in my life. Kelly. I’d met her on the internet of course. We’d set a date to finally hang out together. I don’t remember us doing anything much aside from hanging out that first day. I think we went over to her house. She lived about a half hour from me out in Hazelgreen and she had a three month old child from her previous relationship. New territory for me. I’d never had a girlfriend with a child before. Within the first day of being with her, September tenth, I loved her. And by the time she took me home she was my girlfriend. Little did we know the next day we’d have something monumentally tragic to mark our anniversary, the attacks on the World Trade Center.
She had the same kind of odd sense of humor I had and she was like me in many ways. In fact my friend Justin said that she was me in drag. I was absolutely smitten with her as she was with me. Every moment of the day, I was either talkin to her or thinking about her. The downside was I didnt get to see her a whole lot. This was made even worse by the fact that I didnt even want her at my house anymore because of Jeff. So I only got to see her once or twice a week. But if it was all I could get, I’d take it.
A month later, amidst a candlelit room and Nine Inch Nails “A Warm Place”, I gave my virginity to her. It was a beautiful thing. Much better than the horror stories I’d heard from friends and their virginity loss. I was again deliriously happy with her. But as my curse goes, that would soon end. I guess I began to tire of her. I was around her too often I guess. I began to start wishing I was someplace else when I was with her. Though, when not with her, my only wish was to be with her. This has happened a lot to me. But I never thought it would happen with her. So I broke us up. I regret it, but at the same time it had to be done. I knew that at that time she loved me more than I loved her and unbalanced love like that spins out of control. As strong as my love had been for her, it faded seemingly so fast and effortlessly. I truly wish it hadn’t. I’d still be with her, and I still love her to some extent.
There isnt a whole lot after Kelly. I began to work at Blockbuster Video in the summer of 2001 and I’ve been working there since. For the last three years we didnt have air conditioning in my house. We simply couldnt afford to have it fixed. So I suffered through the Alabama summer with no air conditioning. Which was horrible with my heat condition the way it is. So finally, in the early summer of 2002, I got my own apartment. I was very, very glad to get out of my house. Simply because there was no air conditioning. And the fact that I still lived with my mother. Which no nineteen year old guy wants to do.
My friends Justin, Josh, and my mom helped me move in. It took three or four trips to get together all my twenty or thirty something boxes and various furniture. But before too long I had the place looking like “mine.” I met various people through other people. Linda, Cyndi, Valis, Russ, and the ever interesting Ali. My life has fairly mellowed out since moving to my apartment. Save for the interesting spells between Linda and I. I’ve become thorougly addicted to LiveJournal. And even more addicted to my computer. It’s now my sole source of entertainment since I have no cable. In April of 2003 I finally moved on from Blockbuster. I now have a job at a company called West doing tech support for DirecTV. Easy job, pays good, and Kelly works there so I get to run into her every now and then.
Now my life has resorted to this. My attempt to rewrite a fairly crappy story has turned into a the story of my life. I will eventually actually rewrite that story as more of a story and less a weird version of my life. Or maybe not. Maybe there’s something to writing a fictional story based on my life that at the moment of transformation continued to be relevant to the events that occured after the story was finished. But I’ll explain all that when I actually rewrite the story.
UPDATE
August 08, 2004
I dont even know how long it's been since i wrote out what story there is to my life. But I have some things to add now. After working at West for about two months, I started working at Wal-Mart unloading trucks. Not too bad of a job but the pay sucked for the amount of work we did. While I was working there, my dad's side of the family and I all went on a cruiseship in the summer of 2003. I can't remember having as much fun anywhere else. I did however get drunk 2 of the 3 nights we were there. Which is always interesting. If you think it's hard to walk while drunk, try doing it on a boat. After that I got a temp job working at Hertz washing cars. Very laid back job. I got paid to be there as opposed to paid to do my job. I spent a lot of my time on the clock just sitting around waiting to have cars to wash. Linda and I eventually stopped our fighting and have now become very good friends. Who, ya know, "see" each other when i come back to town.
My grandfather died in February 2004. I almost instantaneously drove down to Florida so I could be here for the funeral. This is now reportedly the last time i've cried. And the first time I'd cried since Valentine's Day of 1998. The day before I was to drive back, I almost instantaneously decided to move down here. Merritt Island, Florida. I now live with my dad Eric, my stemother Micki, and my uncle Bruce. It's definitely a switch living here. Open air, flat land. I can breathe here. The air in Huntsville is stagnant. I've worked at Target unloading trucks for about 4 months now. It's one of the better jobs I've had. I get paid more than at Wal-mart. Everything is organized better. Everyone has pretty specific tasks to do.
I moved here in the middle of March of 2004. I've been back to Huntsville to visit once in May of 2004 for Justin and Emily's wedding. I'm going back again in about a month for Brandy and Chris's wedding. The only real big decision I have facing me soon is what to do when I finally get to the point I want to live on my own. Will I just get a place down here, or move back to Huntsville. It's where all my friends are. I dont really have friends here outside of work so I'm not sure I'd want to live by myself here. But all that's a bit down the road so I'm not to conerned with it right now. My only goals now are to pay off bills and just kinda chill out for a while.
Reena, the girl mentioned above from around the time i started working at Papa Johns happens to live about an hour south of where I live now. We started hanging out again and have kind of a half relationship goin. Nothin serious. We're just together when we're together and when we're not, we're not. But we still talk on the phone and such.
Thanks for taking the time to read it. Should you have any questions or comments, feel free to email me at jarethcorvin1@yahoo.com or just comment in my journal. Again, thanks for taking the time to read.
