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I'm from the slum suburbs of Reading, Pennsylvania. I moved into California when I was 10, after my old man got incarcerated.

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Most of my life was shit and it's stuff that I can't/won't write in a school assignment. But I had some fond memories that I fight tooth and nail not to forget, especially people.

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One of those fond memories is that of a girl, she's a lady now, a fine and lovely lady. We were good friends that had harbored emotions toward each other, emotions that neither of us had the courage to speak of.

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By the time I decided to tell her how I felt, it was too late, my mom moved me to California, sure we were too young to understand these emotions, it was painful nonetheless.

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The road to California was a long 3ish days, I was heartbroken but I saw this as a new beginning. It's a move that I didn't want but a move that I had to make, a move that with time I learned to love and appreciate.

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The 8+ years I've spent in California was pretty okay, people here like to beat around the bush instead of being more blunt (for a lack of a better word), but nonetheless I've made irreplaceable bonds that I'd never leave.