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A Red Head

March 31, 2017 @ (Canada)

As long as I can remember I belive my personality said more about myself rather than my appearance.Â Growing up what ever style it was, weather "grundge", "punk" or "gangster" my only real feature that stood out was my red hair. Though I wouldn't alow these styles to define me as a person I often felt predgism. This feeling often played a part in choices and morality as I grew up to never judge a book by its cover, and try to veiw things logic ly from Nemours perspectives. This led me to having a lot of friends from very diferent walks of life. This is the story of my last relationship spanning three years, from the time I met and fell in love with her at first sight, to my life right now, falling apart and absoltly hating myself. I am an asshole.

For some time, at the age of 23, I had been struggling with my housing situation. I was a first year heavy duity mechanic with two years experiance working maintenance for a pretty large transportation company in an oil city. Growing up here my entire life had given me at a young age a veiw into the world of drugs, gluttony, and a lot of narrow minded people just trying to stay busy and get by. During this time, the geting by was alright. The economy was booming and at this time were you to leave your job three more opertunity opened up. The realy problem at this point where the housing situation made it dificult was juggling my job and dealing with a series of drug addicted roomates. One of witch during the 2012 incident was telling me how he was goig to eat me. After that moved in with a friend growing up from high schools familie. Let's just say there was a series of murders going on with a particular gang that growing up i was affiliated through.Â That was a unsafe fucked up situation I don't wish to discuss to much about Friends dieing and going to jail. This made me become more distant from more and more friends and focusing on my career.
Eventually, after some time couch serfing and sleepig in my car I had moved in with a two co workers. It was a old and small house, but it was nice. It was me and a coworker up stairs. My room was pink. Another country worker and his lesbian cousin and her other down stairs. With all that said, this is the setting of my tale. Where I first met her.
My roomate had started going through a dark period after his girlfriend had left him because he relapsed on meth. His down ward spiral kept geting worce and worce. Living with a meth head is the most unpleasant living I had delt with. Money, belonging, go missing, weird people come over. Mood swings. To cope with it I had began drinking more. Eventually he had lost his job and there was little I wouldn't do to get out of the house and meet new people. After one night at the bar I get back home fairly early. Being drunk and hearing music from un known origin I begin to follow it into the basement.Â My down stairs roomates were having a few drinks and the girl I was in love with is there.
My first words to her were, " Oh your friends with those two? Are you a lesbian as well, because I think your cute."
She wasn't a lesbian. She was queer. Not that I realy understood much of that at the time. We ended up making out and I drove her to work the next day. I latter find out she had recently decided to transition into a man and begin her hormones. I was pretty sad that this girl who I just met that I already had feelings for was undergoing a change that wouldnt lead anywhere for us.
Regardless of where we both stood about my feeling we began hanging out. And for a time, a beautifle friendship blossomed. She inspired me to be myself, not let others take advantage of me, to stick up for myself have faith in making the right choices to better myself. I soon moved out of the house and got a small town house with my best friend growing up. For a time things seemed pretty good. How ever, I knew this girl I was already in love with and knew things how they were wouldn't last forever... nothing good lasts for ever, and once again things would get rocky. this is the end of part one.