Bible.
1. Name: Ryan Micheal Dunn.
2. Age: 27
3. Location: Ferndale, Michigan
4. Occupation: Food Runner/Barback at the Woodward Avenue Brewery. Drummer without a band. Student, even though I'm horrible at it. Procrastinator. Dreamer.
5. Partner: Single. Have been for a long time. I've been crazy for the last few years, pining away for what I didn't have and sowing my wild oats at the same time. It's been really weird, and sometimes, really shitty. I had a lot of issues that I needed to work out inside my head and heart, and I didn't make it easy on myself. (Do I ever?) I feel much better about things these days, though. It feels like I've come out of the storm, and I'm ready to cut the crap and be with someone. I've realized that I deserve the very best, and the only thing stopping me from getting it is myself. I had to work on myself for a long time to get ready, and now I am, without clinging to the notion that I need to be with someone. It's awesome. Try it.
6. Kids: None. I am definitely going to be a father at some point, but it's going to have to wait until I have some security under my belt. For now, I just live vicariously through my sister, who just had an absolutely beautiful and wonderful daughter. I'm a total nerd over that little girl, and I'm excited to watch her grow up.
7. Brothers/Sisters: Rachel, my older sister, is only my only full sister. After our mom and dad got divorced, he had my two half-sisters, Ashley and Summer, with Diane and my half-brother, Cameron, with Becky. Rachel pretty much covered the whole story in her version of this meme. I'll get to my end of it later.
8. Pets: Does the spider that's been living in my bathroom for the last six months count? Unfortunately, he's the closest thing I have to a pet. My roommate has a cat, but the damn thing drives me up a wall. Once my life calms down a bit and I can afford to have a place of my own, I'm getting a Siberian Husky puppy. His name will be Boris and we're going to be the most awesome human/dog friendship that ever was.
9. List the 3-5 biggest things going on in your life:
1. My internal conflict concerning what the hell I'm going to do with the rest of my life. My goal is to live a creative, responsible, happy, and love-filled life. The conflict resides in how I'm going to pay the bills. I'm in school for journalism, which is a career I could picture myself being happy with. However, I really fucking hate school. I'm going partly out of fear, and that's not a good thing. I'm also going partly because I don't know what else to do. I've always had it in my head that I was going to be a musician. As it stands right now, I'm 27 and I haven't been in a band in a year. I've played three shows in the last four years. It isn't going anywhere, and even though I'm not ready to give up yet, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life on tour anymore. I see what it's done to other people in my life, and I don't want that. I've had to come to a realization with my dream, and it's hard. I've had to re-evaluate what I want to do with my life. Replacing that dream with school has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Sometimes it feels like a sell-out, but at the same time, I know that school is a necessary evil. I might hate it, but it will enable me to live the kind of life that I want to live in a much easier fashion.
2. Newfound happiness. I still have my bouts of melancholia, but overall, I'm happier than I've been in years. I've got a great family, great friends, and a great head on my shoulders. I spent a long time pining away for the things that I didn't have; namely, a band and a girl. Finally, I've realized that my life is pretty goddamn awesome and the rest of the blanks are gonna get filled in eventually. No need to sweat it.
3. Acceptance of my new life. For a long time after I moved out of Ferndale, I fought it. I moved down here during a time of great upheaval in my old crew. I didn't know who my friends were, to be honest. I was also very fucking disillusioned with them. Moving away was the right move, but it was hard and I wasn't really prepared for the consequences. I see now that for a long time, I really didn't like myself all that much when I lived in Waterford. On top of that, I hated what me and my circle of friends had become. I had to get away, not only for myself, but to make sense of who I wanted in my life. I have some very close and long-standing friendships in that town, but they are not the same anymore. It hurt seeing us grow apart, but that's part of growing up. I still love those people, and I always will, but I'm where I need to be right now.
10. What did you go to school for? See above.
11. Parents:
I'll start this with a quote from my sister:
"Anyway, my mom is awesome. She's a secretary ninja for the Oakland County Prosecutor's Office. She's a health nut, a dog person, a budding interior decorator, and a master gardener. If you cross her, she holds a grudge like none other. She's very sensitive, yet very strong. And she is very, very, very beautiful, even if she doesn't know it."
Yeah, that's the gist of it. I'll add that she's probably the toughest person I know. She had a fucking awful childhood, one that most people would not be able to overcome, but she did. Her and I are a lot alike, in that we're both quiet, reserved, and sensitive. We didn't have the best relationship for a while; I can be a real shithead when I want to be and her workaholic nature is in direct conflict with my laziness. Hence, I kept my life very private and didn't talk to her a whole lot, as pretty much every conversation I had with her turned into a lecture. I wish I would've opened up to her more back then. I was depressed for a long time and even though a lot of people could tell, I don't know that she could. She worries about me a lot, and understandably so, but deep down I think she understands who I am. She knows I'm a fucking weirdo punker metalhead who never really fit in and is still trying to make sense of my place in the world. Since I moved away, our relationship has improved dramatically, even though I still don't talk to her as much as I should. When we do talk, though, I realize that she understands me better than anyone else with the exception of my sister. I also picked up her razor-sharp wit and sense of humour, so cheers to that, as well.
My dad and I have had a pretty weird relationship. When I was little, Dad was my favorite parent. Yeah, that's a weird thing to say, but it's true. My dad was fun; he made me laugh, he took me places, and he played with me. Mom slept on the couch a lot. I had no idea why until I was older, when I figured out that Mom and I are a lot alike, and when life sucks, we sleep. Also, I can say that knowing that when Mom and I would play, or when we would do fun things together, it was way more rewarding. Getting a smile out of the "bad cop" rules. :p
Anyway.
Like I said, I adored my father more than he'll ever know. When my folks got divorced, there were a lot of promises made, proclamations of fun times to be had, and an agreement that chores suck. It was a pretty attractive idea for a kid like me; I spent most of my time daydreaming and playing without any real regard to responsibility. And when the divorce came, my parents were too busy fighting to notice that I wasn't doing a goddamn thing in school. If I lived with Dad, I wouldn't have to do anything. I would have more fun with Dad, because Mom made me do homework and she had this thing where when I said "Can I have a snack?" she would answer, "Yeah, you can have a banana or an apple from the fridge." When I meant snack, I meant a fucking cookie or a Fruit Roll-up. Dad was on point with cookies and trips to the arcade.
Dad won.
And it ended up being the worst thing for me. (Big surprise, right?) Within two years, we had moved out of my childhood home, into my grandparents house, then out to Lake Orion, then back to my grandparents house for a decent chunk of my fourth grade, and finally, the two bedroom apartment with Diane, her three boys, a live-in babysitter, and eventually my baby sister. My bedroom was a fucking walk-in closet. All the good times that my dad had promised never came to fruition, and even though there's WAY worse shit that could've happened, I'm a sensitive little fucker and this shit broke my heart. I learned that my father is completely self-absorbed and co-dependent. I really, really adored him, and I wanted nothing more than to be his ace on the trigger, but soon it felt like the only time he was paying attention to me was when I fucked up at school and brought heat from my mom or my teachers down on him. At the same time, I was in sixth grade and surrounded by all kinds of new people that knew fuck-all about how to deal with a metalhead like me. Consequently, I was harassed, threatened, and verbally abused on a daily basis. Not a day went by without me having to deal with some preppy fucker calling me a faggot and threatening to kick my ass. I even got kicked in the back from behind while I was sitting on a bench by an eighth grader that was three times my size. It sent me into the heater and I banged my head on it. I cried so hard that it was unreal. When I got home, there wasn't any real consolation; I remember being told to just ignore them and to continue being myself. What I really wanted and needed wasn't advice. I wanted a long, crushing hug and someone that would listen to me. I didn't want to be told what I already knew. I didn't want to be told to do what was already getting me my ass kicked.
Needless to say, sixth grade fucking sucked.
We eventually got into better living quarters. Dad and Diane had another baby. Then they split up. My dad hooked up with Becky, and I smelled trouble from the get-go. Maybe it was the fact that she drank every day, or maybe it was the fact that she would spank her kids so hard that she would bust blood vessels in her hand. Maybe it was the fact that she tried to butter me up with a gift here and there. Maybe it was the fact that she told me about all the awesome things we were going to do now that we were a big, happy family. (She didn't know that I'd already been around that block with Dad. I don't get fooled twice.) Whatever the case may be, I knew this woman was full of shit. I knew she was a psychotic, alcoholic, Satan-worshiping snake witch, and as it turns out, I was right.
Around this time, my dad got it into his head that my two little sisters weren't his kids. Becky planted the seed. This was after they took off to the south somewhere and got married without telling anyone. Dad shipped me off to Mom's house for a couple weeks until everything got situated. When he went to bring me back, I had a surprise for him: "Either admit that Ashley and Summer are your kids or I'm staying with Mom." He told me that I had no right to make an ultimatum. I told him that I didn't care. That night, I went back to mom's house and told her I was moving in.
When I entered high school, I still saw my dad with regularity. I don't remember when, but that began to taper off. Eventually, my dad moved out of the last house we lived together in. I remember I found out through my grandma. I walked the mile or two from mom's house to dad's house and left a letter taped to the front door. I don't remember what it said at all, but I know it wasn't good. Basically, I let him know that he was fucking up.
From then on, I saw my dad less and less. He stopped calling on my birthday. I would only see him on Christmas. There was a point where I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him. Turns out that the whole time I was unable to remember, he was living less than two miles away from me.
Needless to say, I had a lot of resentment towards my dad. He fucked a lot of things up, and then he pretty much hid from everyone. For a long time, I rarely saw him or talked to him. He didn't help me out in any way, shape, or form. He just simply wasn't there. I was pissed off and hurt, and I carried it around with me for a long time.
A couple of years ago, though, Dad started turning things around. He divorced Becky, got custody of Cameron, and started to come back around. At first, it was really fucking weird for me; I was still pissed off and thought that there needed to be a talk, a settling of issues. My Dad and I couldn't talk without my sister being around, as the tension was just too thick. Then I realized that maybe the only reason why I felt there needed to be a talk was that I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel. I wanted to release all that pent-up resentment and anger at him. I thought about it some more and realized that the whole time he was gone, he was going through Hell with Becky. For all the shit that he put his family through, he put himself through just as much. You can see it on his face. He's aged so much in so little time that it's sad. It was then that I realized that me yelling at him wasn't going to make one fucking bit of difference, because he already knows.
On top of that, despite everything that I dealt with because of him, I turned out pretty fucking good. I'm still lazy as shit, which is a habit I picked up through living with him, but aside from that, I've got a good head on my shoulders. I'm smart, well-adjusted, and I treat people pretty well. All that anger was holding me back and eating away at me. For as much as I talk about moving forward with my life, I was doing a damn fine job of holding onto shit that happened years ago, and I was doing that against someone who was making every effort to turn his life around. He takes good care of Cameron, and doesn't let him fuck up in school. He calls me just to see how I'm doing and shoot the shit. He helped me out a couple years ago when I quit Kroger, and makes offers to help me out now even though I don't need it.
I've realized that my dad is a good person. He's a space cadet and has a penchant for making huge decisions without thinking them through, but he's a good person. He might not be the father I needed him to be, but I don't really need a father anymore. I'm grown, and it's time to lay all the bullshit to rest. He's a good guy, and I want things to be cool between us. We've still got a ways to go, but we've made a whole lot of progress already. It's good to have him back in my life again, even if it's still in a sort of limited capacity.
I'm looking forward to the future.
12. Who are some of your closest friends?
Rachel, first and foremost. She is my rock and one of the few people that I trust completely. I can tell her anything and she never judges me. When I need advice, she gives it, and when I need a kick in the ass, she's right there. (She also happens to deliver said kick in the most gentle way possible.) I can't wait until we're old, because she only gets smarter, funnier, and more awesome with age.
Dustin McLaughlin is another close friend. He's a decent bit younger than me, but I took a shine to him when he was younger and I'm really glad that I did. Again, he never judges me and he has a propensity to tell me what I need to hear. He's always turning me on to new ideas. A lot of the growth that I've undertaken in the last few years can be directly attributed to hanging out with him and the rest of our crew.
Tyson Gerchow. Sixteen fucking years. Still going strong. I love the fact that I don't have to hang out with him all the time, call him every day, or be in constant contact in general, but when we do see eachother, we pick up right where we left off.
Shayne O'Keefe is the friend out of my new crew that I divulge most of my problems and feelings to. Out of everyone that I've formed friendships with in the last few years, he's the one I identify with the most. We relate very well to eachother and he's always down to leave the party and go talk about some real shit. He's there for me every time.
2. Age: 27
3. Location: Ferndale, Michigan
4. Occupation: Food Runner/Barback at the Woodward Avenue Brewery. Drummer without a band. Student, even though I'm horrible at it. Procrastinator. Dreamer.
5. Partner: Single. Have been for a long time. I've been crazy for the last few years, pining away for what I didn't have and sowing my wild oats at the same time. It's been really weird, and sometimes, really shitty. I had a lot of issues that I needed to work out inside my head and heart, and I didn't make it easy on myself. (Do I ever?) I feel much better about things these days, though. It feels like I've come out of the storm, and I'm ready to cut the crap and be with someone. I've realized that I deserve the very best, and the only thing stopping me from getting it is myself. I had to work on myself for a long time to get ready, and now I am, without clinging to the notion that I need to be with someone. It's awesome. Try it.
6. Kids: None. I am definitely going to be a father at some point, but it's going to have to wait until I have some security under my belt. For now, I just live vicariously through my sister, who just had an absolutely beautiful and wonderful daughter. I'm a total nerd over that little girl, and I'm excited to watch her grow up.
7. Brothers/Sisters: Rachel, my older sister, is only my only full sister. After our mom and dad got divorced, he had my two half-sisters, Ashley and Summer, with Diane and my half-brother, Cameron, with Becky. Rachel pretty much covered the whole story in her version of this meme. I'll get to my end of it later.
8. Pets: Does the spider that's been living in my bathroom for the last six months count? Unfortunately, he's the closest thing I have to a pet. My roommate has a cat, but the damn thing drives me up a wall. Once my life calms down a bit and I can afford to have a place of my own, I'm getting a Siberian Husky puppy. His name will be Boris and we're going to be the most awesome human/dog friendship that ever was.
9. List the 3-5 biggest things going on in your life:
1. My internal conflict concerning what the hell I'm going to do with the rest of my life. My goal is to live a creative, responsible, happy, and love-filled life. The conflict resides in how I'm going to pay the bills. I'm in school for journalism, which is a career I could picture myself being happy with. However, I really fucking hate school. I'm going partly out of fear, and that's not a good thing. I'm also going partly because I don't know what else to do. I've always had it in my head that I was going to be a musician. As it stands right now, I'm 27 and I haven't been in a band in a year. I've played three shows in the last four years. It isn't going anywhere, and even though I'm not ready to give up yet, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life on tour anymore. I see what it's done to other people in my life, and I don't want that. I've had to come to a realization with my dream, and it's hard. I've had to re-evaluate what I want to do with my life. Replacing that dream with school has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Sometimes it feels like a sell-out, but at the same time, I know that school is a necessary evil. I might hate it, but it will enable me to live the kind of life that I want to live in a much easier fashion.
2. Newfound happiness. I still have my bouts of melancholia, but overall, I'm happier than I've been in years. I've got a great family, great friends, and a great head on my shoulders. I spent a long time pining away for the things that I didn't have; namely, a band and a girl. Finally, I've realized that my life is pretty goddamn awesome and the rest of the blanks are gonna get filled in eventually. No need to sweat it.
3. Acceptance of my new life. For a long time after I moved out of Ferndale, I fought it. I moved down here during a time of great upheaval in my old crew. I didn't know who my friends were, to be honest. I was also very fucking disillusioned with them. Moving away was the right move, but it was hard and I wasn't really prepared for the consequences. I see now that for a long time, I really didn't like myself all that much when I lived in Waterford. On top of that, I hated what me and my circle of friends had become. I had to get away, not only for myself, but to make sense of who I wanted in my life. I have some very close and long-standing friendships in that town, but they are not the same anymore. It hurt seeing us grow apart, but that's part of growing up. I still love those people, and I always will, but I'm where I need to be right now.
10. What did you go to school for? See above.
11. Parents:
I'll start this with a quote from my sister:
"Anyway, my mom is awesome. She's a secretary ninja for the Oakland County Prosecutor's Office. She's a health nut, a dog person, a budding interior decorator, and a master gardener. If you cross her, she holds a grudge like none other. She's very sensitive, yet very strong. And she is very, very, very beautiful, even if she doesn't know it."
Yeah, that's the gist of it. I'll add that she's probably the toughest person I know. She had a fucking awful childhood, one that most people would not be able to overcome, but she did. Her and I are a lot alike, in that we're both quiet, reserved, and sensitive. We didn't have the best relationship for a while; I can be a real shithead when I want to be and her workaholic nature is in direct conflict with my laziness. Hence, I kept my life very private and didn't talk to her a whole lot, as pretty much every conversation I had with her turned into a lecture. I wish I would've opened up to her more back then. I was depressed for a long time and even though a lot of people could tell, I don't know that she could. She worries about me a lot, and understandably so, but deep down I think she understands who I am. She knows I'm a fucking weirdo punker metalhead who never really fit in and is still trying to make sense of my place in the world. Since I moved away, our relationship has improved dramatically, even though I still don't talk to her as much as I should. When we do talk, though, I realize that she understands me better than anyone else with the exception of my sister. I also picked up her razor-sharp wit and sense of humour, so cheers to that, as well.
My dad and I have had a pretty weird relationship. When I was little, Dad was my favorite parent. Yeah, that's a weird thing to say, but it's true. My dad was fun; he made me laugh, he took me places, and he played with me. Mom slept on the couch a lot. I had no idea why until I was older, when I figured out that Mom and I are a lot alike, and when life sucks, we sleep. Also, I can say that knowing that when Mom and I would play, or when we would do fun things together, it was way more rewarding. Getting a smile out of the "bad cop" rules. :p
Anyway.
Like I said, I adored my father more than he'll ever know. When my folks got divorced, there were a lot of promises made, proclamations of fun times to be had, and an agreement that chores suck. It was a pretty attractive idea for a kid like me; I spent most of my time daydreaming and playing without any real regard to responsibility. And when the divorce came, my parents were too busy fighting to notice that I wasn't doing a goddamn thing in school. If I lived with Dad, I wouldn't have to do anything. I would have more fun with Dad, because Mom made me do homework and she had this thing where when I said "Can I have a snack?" she would answer, "Yeah, you can have a banana or an apple from the fridge." When I meant snack, I meant a fucking cookie or a Fruit Roll-up. Dad was on point with cookies and trips to the arcade.
Dad won.
And it ended up being the worst thing for me. (Big surprise, right?) Within two years, we had moved out of my childhood home, into my grandparents house, then out to Lake Orion, then back to my grandparents house for a decent chunk of my fourth grade, and finally, the two bedroom apartment with Diane, her three boys, a live-in babysitter, and eventually my baby sister. My bedroom was a fucking walk-in closet. All the good times that my dad had promised never came to fruition, and even though there's WAY worse shit that could've happened, I'm a sensitive little fucker and this shit broke my heart. I learned that my father is completely self-absorbed and co-dependent. I really, really adored him, and I wanted nothing more than to be his ace on the trigger, but soon it felt like the only time he was paying attention to me was when I fucked up at school and brought heat from my mom or my teachers down on him. At the same time, I was in sixth grade and surrounded by all kinds of new people that knew fuck-all about how to deal with a metalhead like me. Consequently, I was harassed, threatened, and verbally abused on a daily basis. Not a day went by without me having to deal with some preppy fucker calling me a faggot and threatening to kick my ass. I even got kicked in the back from behind while I was sitting on a bench by an eighth grader that was three times my size. It sent me into the heater and I banged my head on it. I cried so hard that it was unreal. When I got home, there wasn't any real consolation; I remember being told to just ignore them and to continue being myself. What I really wanted and needed wasn't advice. I wanted a long, crushing hug and someone that would listen to me. I didn't want to be told what I already knew. I didn't want to be told to do what was already getting me my ass kicked.
Needless to say, sixth grade fucking sucked.
We eventually got into better living quarters. Dad and Diane had another baby. Then they split up. My dad hooked up with Becky, and I smelled trouble from the get-go. Maybe it was the fact that she drank every day, or maybe it was the fact that she would spank her kids so hard that she would bust blood vessels in her hand. Maybe it was the fact that she tried to butter me up with a gift here and there. Maybe it was the fact that she told me about all the awesome things we were going to do now that we were a big, happy family. (She didn't know that I'd already been around that block with Dad. I don't get fooled twice.) Whatever the case may be, I knew this woman was full of shit. I knew she was a psychotic, alcoholic, Satan-worshiping snake witch, and as it turns out, I was right.
Around this time, my dad got it into his head that my two little sisters weren't his kids. Becky planted the seed. This was after they took off to the south somewhere and got married without telling anyone. Dad shipped me off to Mom's house for a couple weeks until everything got situated. When he went to bring me back, I had a surprise for him: "Either admit that Ashley and Summer are your kids or I'm staying with Mom." He told me that I had no right to make an ultimatum. I told him that I didn't care. That night, I went back to mom's house and told her I was moving in.
When I entered high school, I still saw my dad with regularity. I don't remember when, but that began to taper off. Eventually, my dad moved out of the last house we lived together in. I remember I found out through my grandma. I walked the mile or two from mom's house to dad's house and left a letter taped to the front door. I don't remember what it said at all, but I know it wasn't good. Basically, I let him know that he was fucking up.
From then on, I saw my dad less and less. He stopped calling on my birthday. I would only see him on Christmas. There was a point where I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him. Turns out that the whole time I was unable to remember, he was living less than two miles away from me.
Needless to say, I had a lot of resentment towards my dad. He fucked a lot of things up, and then he pretty much hid from everyone. For a long time, I rarely saw him or talked to him. He didn't help me out in any way, shape, or form. He just simply wasn't there. I was pissed off and hurt, and I carried it around with me for a long time.
A couple of years ago, though, Dad started turning things around. He divorced Becky, got custody of Cameron, and started to come back around. At first, it was really fucking weird for me; I was still pissed off and thought that there needed to be a talk, a settling of issues. My Dad and I couldn't talk without my sister being around, as the tension was just too thick. Then I realized that maybe the only reason why I felt there needed to be a talk was that I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel. I wanted to release all that pent-up resentment and anger at him. I thought about it some more and realized that the whole time he was gone, he was going through Hell with Becky. For all the shit that he put his family through, he put himself through just as much. You can see it on his face. He's aged so much in so little time that it's sad. It was then that I realized that me yelling at him wasn't going to make one fucking bit of difference, because he already knows.
On top of that, despite everything that I dealt with because of him, I turned out pretty fucking good. I'm still lazy as shit, which is a habit I picked up through living with him, but aside from that, I've got a good head on my shoulders. I'm smart, well-adjusted, and I treat people pretty well. All that anger was holding me back and eating away at me. For as much as I talk about moving forward with my life, I was doing a damn fine job of holding onto shit that happened years ago, and I was doing that against someone who was making every effort to turn his life around. He takes good care of Cameron, and doesn't let him fuck up in school. He calls me just to see how I'm doing and shoot the shit. He helped me out a couple years ago when I quit Kroger, and makes offers to help me out now even though I don't need it.
I've realized that my dad is a good person. He's a space cadet and has a penchant for making huge decisions without thinking them through, but he's a good person. He might not be the father I needed him to be, but I don't really need a father anymore. I'm grown, and it's time to lay all the bullshit to rest. He's a good guy, and I want things to be cool between us. We've still got a ways to go, but we've made a whole lot of progress already. It's good to have him back in my life again, even if it's still in a sort of limited capacity.
I'm looking forward to the future.
12. Who are some of your closest friends?
Rachel, first and foremost. She is my rock and one of the few people that I trust completely. I can tell her anything and she never judges me. When I need advice, she gives it, and when I need a kick in the ass, she's right there. (She also happens to deliver said kick in the most gentle way possible.) I can't wait until we're old, because she only gets smarter, funnier, and more awesome with age.
Dustin McLaughlin is another close friend. He's a decent bit younger than me, but I took a shine to him when he was younger and I'm really glad that I did. Again, he never judges me and he has a propensity to tell me what I need to hear. He's always turning me on to new ideas. A lot of the growth that I've undertaken in the last few years can be directly attributed to hanging out with him and the rest of our crew.
Tyson Gerchow. Sixteen fucking years. Still going strong. I love the fact that I don't have to hang out with him all the time, call him every day, or be in constant contact in general, but when we do see eachother, we pick up right where we left off.
Shayne O'Keefe is the friend out of my new crew that I divulge most of my problems and feelings to. Out of everyone that I've formed friendships with in the last few years, he's the one I identify with the most. We relate very well to eachother and he's always down to leave the party and go talk about some real shit. He's there for me every time.