1984-1990

I lived in this house from the age of seven until I was twelve. I am making this post because I dreamed of this very house last night. I have a LOT of mixed emotions right now, thinking back about this house.

The house didn't use to look like this. When we moved in, it was four of us. My sister and I shared a room, and my mom and stepdad shared a room. We had two dogs. This place was an ugly burnt orange painted color when we first moved in...Carrie and I had bunkbeds and it was the first time I had ever lived in a place with hardwood floors.

I remember when we first moved in, we discovered this shelfpaper in the bathroom under the sink that showed this woman's tit. It was supposed to have a Roman feeling (some fat chick with her arm in the air, covering her boob with her other hand) and we squealed when we saw it.

Me and my sister's room is on the left side of the house toward the back. You can slightly see the window in this photo. My parent's room was the entire front left side of the house. The left double window is their window. The right double window is the living room. The house has two bedrooms only.

This house had a major roach problem. The roaches were EVERYWHERE. You'd step on them in the middle of the night when you walked in the kitchen. They'd come out of the faucet when you were laying in the bathtub. You'd open up a bag of bread to make a sandwich and there'd be roaches scurrying around in the bag.

My dad used to sit out on the porch and drink beers and blast his stereo. This is how I was introduced to Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, and Neil Young at such a young age. All the neighborhood kids thought my stepdad was so cool. But I don't think anyone knew what went on INSIDE this house. Except for us.

My stepdad was a major alcoholic. A lot of physical abuse went on in this house. He's apologized for it, and I've forgiven him, but I still remember all of it. He would warn us ahead of time when we'd get our asses whipped. So we'd go to school all day long and worry about what was going to happen when we got home. The house was so fucking small and you could hear everything that went on in the other room, to our horror. My sister Carrie always went first to get it out of the way and over with, and I would sit in the living room and cringe and cry. And when I say we heard everything, we heard EVERYTHING. Sex. Fighting. Abuse. Arguments. A lot of inappropriate shit for kids to be hearing.

Anyway, I kind of got off track. Fast forward a few years and it was seven of us living in this house. Five children, two adults, and two dogs. Carrie and I in one bedroom, my parents and the twins in their bedroom, and my little sister in the living room. It was like living in Calcutta. It was fucking awful.

I wouldn't trade any of it, though. I have so many AWESOME memories of this neighborhood, formed so many friendships, even got my heart broken a few times. I wish I could say that my wonderful childhood memories included my parents, but they don't. They only involve my older sister and my friends.

Christian

Dear Christian,

You are the neatest thing that has ever come into my life. Most of the time when I look at your face I'm reminded of the Madonna song "Little Star," particularly the line where she says "you've breathed new life into my broken heart."

You were born in the year of the dragon, and that makes you a very, very special and lucky child. You're the first boy in the family, and everyone is so envious of that.

I am very, very guilty of babying you, and I'm sorry. I also know that I spoil you, and this is probably a bad thing. But, I cannot help it. I can't help moving you into my bed late at night so I can fall asleep with my nose in your cheek. Something funny, when you wake up, your breath never stinks. How that's possible, I don't know.

Some day you will fall in love with a woman and I hope that you treat her like a princess. Keep your nose clean, get good grades, make me even prouder than you have. And don't be so hard on your sister. She gets jealous that you get so much attention from everyone. She doesn't really hate you.

I know you wonder why me and your father didn't stay together. We didn't get along, Chris, and, well...I'm happier alone. I promise you that you will always feel safe and warm in my household. No outside influences or situations will change the way I feel about you. My job is to raise you to be a strong, polite, useful citizen and I intend on fulfilling that job.

I love you...I LOVE YOU!!

Love,
Mom

Chad Rei.

Dear Chad (maybe not, nevermind),

You already know all this, as you've contacted me several times throughout the years. Lastly being around the New Year's 2000, and I've not heard from you since, thankfully.

We met up when I was 16, when I was kicked out of my house. You began physically abusing me shortly therafter. You kept me trapped in a basement apartment. No food, unless your lazy ass was lucky enough to get food stamps. No phone. The one time I could leave, and did, you grabbed a giant butcher knife and stuck it into your arm, and shaved the right side of my hand with it. Knowing I'd be terrified for you (it's in my nature to care), and stay by your side, just so you could trap me again. Thanks for those 8 stitches, by the way. I've got a nice scar on my hand.

Did you know I had to drop out my senior year (senior year!) because you didn't 'trust me' going to school, where guys 'would look at me and flirt with me?' Better yet, do you remember the time you punched me in the face, TWICE, because someone at Godfather's Pizza was looking at me? Yes. When a man would look at me, I would get in trouble for it. When I'd do my hair, I'd get in trouble for it, because damn it, I was trying to make men look at me! You're a goddamned fool.

My throat tightens up and tears well in my eyes when I think about this whole situation. I was so fucking young, and precious, and innocent, and it was completely robbed of me. I don't know who is more to blame...you, for being a monster, or my parents for allowing it to happen. So I say, fuck all of you.

I know you've apologized, but man, I can't forget about it. You awoke a giant, aggressive, mean sleeping monster in me.

For at LEAST two years after I successfully escaped you, I would always watch the door expecting you to come through and kill me. I always watched my back. I started a relationship about six months after I left you, and every time he would take my hand, or kiss me, or hug me, I would look around to make sure you weren't there. How's that for fucked up?

Sincerely,

Jessica

P.S. I heard through the grapevine recently that you are STILL, and always HAVE been, abusing your girlfriends. I hope one takes a shotgun to your head one of these days.

P.P.S. I should have fought back.

Carrie J.

Dear Carrie,

I am going to open this up by saying that you are my twin. Even though you're 3.5 years older than I am, you really are just like me. We might not look identical, but you are definitely me.

You've always been there...you saw everything. You saw it all. The traumas, the good times, the fights, the moves, everything. We had to weather it together.

I never tire of talking to you. Remember the SIX HOURS we spent talking on your patio in the middle of the night? Wine coolers, cigarettes, and good chatter on a late summer night...fucking fantastic. Heavenly. Have you ever noticed that our loud, obnoxious laughter sounds exactly the same?

Your choice in men sucks, but that's ok. You know what you like, and you have to live with your decisions. You're a bad ass and won't let anyone step on you. And if they did, call me. I'll raise Hell. I never told you this but I have a fierce protective side of me when it comes to you.

I can tell you anything. I'm sorry I didn't hug you more when we were growing up. I will try to make up for it now.

You mean more to me than I will ever be able to express with words.

I love you. I love you.

Chad M.

Dear Chad,

You came into my life at a very, very difficult time. I was brand new in Minnesota, I didn't know anyone, and I was very, very scared.

You were always so friendly and giving, and due to my own insecurities, demons, and negative peer pressure, I took advantage of that. I called you in 1997 and apologized one last time, and you said I was forgiven, but that we could not salvage any kind of friendship. I understand.

It doesn't make it right, though. I was a huge bitch to you and at times was very, very mean.

Thank you so much for being one of the first friends I made here. I had loads of fun with you. Thanks for the trips, the exploration, for telling me your secrets. Thanks for letting me wear your Lemeux jersey.

I hope that you are married now with a family. You are a very, very nice guy.

Brandy A.

Dear Brandy,

I had a lot of fun with you. You were a part of me in the most tender, scary, emotional, and growing years of my life. I considered you my best friend. Remember all the nights we spent together? The music we listened to? The boys we pined over? How much fun we had beating the shit out of your brothers, and playing spin the bottle with the neighborhood boys, and wandering around our neighborhood smoking stolen cigarettes?

You lost your virginity long before I did and I remember all the questions I asked you. Can you believe, Brandy, that I held out until I was 17 years old?

Unfortunately not all my memories of you are positive ones. I remember a lot of backstabbing going on. I don't know why you suddenly became my enemy. I never wronged you or talked badly of you. But I remember when Jenny came along. You cut me off. Both of you laughed at me, gossiped about me, and it didn't matter - I still wanted to be around you. I still came over and listened to you; I went shopping with you and always considered it a good time. I still hung out with your brothers even when you preferred to stay inside and ignore me. I STILL called you every time I wanted to hang out...and you'd always decline.

I recall another friend of mine that came to your house, and how you BOTH called me and threatened to kick my ass, when I'd done nothing wrong. I guess my biggest question is, "Why?" What the hell did I ever do so wrong that ended our friendship?

It's a long shot but I'm willing to bet one of my tits that to this day, I was the most loyal friend you'd ever had, and WILL ever have. But, you lost me.

I hear you've got two children now. I heard you've asked about me. You saw my daughter. You've run into my sister and asked where I was, what I was doing, if I was ever coming back. I ran into your mom the day after you had your son; I saw him, Brandy. In a photo. He was very, very cute. The kind of baby I'd love being an auntie to.

I hope all the gossip and intentional pain you inflicted on me was worth it. Of course I forgive you, and to this day I miss you. I hope that you and your children are healthy and happy.