Sept 2(?) 2006, oh it's one of those stories

What I remember:
It is my first year of high school. She is stunning. Her eyes are a deep and speckled green, but that is not nearly descriptive enough to explain what I see when I look into them. Her skin is covered in small freckles, they cover her entire body. She has red hair, and when she smiles, the entire world around her glows. She’s one of those girls that you see in the distance but don’t really expect to get close to.

What was probably the reality:

It's my first day of high school, I saw an ok girl, got a rush of hormones and confused it with instant true love. Then I realized my social status was not par to hers, and that I was to much of a coward to say anything anyway.

Somethings you should probably know...

I like screwing around with situations that are perfectly fine, just to watch people squirm. Or just to create a challenge for myself. I am very (sometimes unbelievably) lucky. I am not much for emotional rants, or touchy feely stuff at all for that matter. I am probably insane, and anything said by me should not be taken seriously. Life has two settings for me, it's everything, or it's nothing

Let's start try to start this off the right way.

So what possesses someone to sit down and crank out 10,000 + words about their life? I have no idea, all I know is somewhere I went wrong and it needs to be fixed, or at least the problem be found. You should probably stop reading this, I am without a doubt pretty fucked up, and by extension anything that is written by me is meaningless, but if you stay… I’ll start with this. This really wasn’t going to be anything. It started with the line: “When she smiled at me…” and developed from there. I’ll try to keep it as accurate as possible. It will be in journalish format, some dates are approximation, but most are dead on.