Let me start from the beginning. Around second grade, I had a realization. There are two types of people in this world. The people who radiate confidence and naturally excel at life. And the people who hope all those people die in a big explosion. My brother, Darian, was a winner from day one and had about a million fans. His biggest one? My mother. You could say my mother and I weren't exactly peas in a pod. And the only one who could handle either of us, was dad. Dad had a nearly impossible task. Having to manage us both. I used to tell him I wished he was small. Then I'd at least have one person to have lunch with. Instead, the most attention I got at school was from these three girls. They pushed me and said "Nobody likes you. You suck and you're gonna get AIDS." My childhood had become a raging dumpster fire and I couldn't take one more second of this intolerable, unlivable nightmare of a life. And then, out of the clear blue, an angel appeared. She was dressed like a small elderly gentleman. And her breath smelled of SweeTARTS. She was holding a caterpillar. She had me promise not to squish it before she let me hold him. She asked if I wanted to share custody and be his other mom. I suffocated him in my pencil box a few hours later, but I had finally made my first friend. We told each other things we never thought we'd say out loud. It turned out Krista's life wasn't perfect either. But we got each other through it. For the next few years, everything was magic. And then, some extremely fucked up shit happened. I'm not gonna depress you with the details, so let's just say the next few years were complete shit. Well, except for one part, I had Krista.
