I was 21 when I moved back to Santa Barbara with Aaron and the dog and graduated from school. I hated living in a small southern California town again, until Aaron and I broke up, and now I love it. My hair was completely natural, a mousy light brown. Now it's black and highlighted green.
My mother and I sometimes talk every day for weeks and then do nothing but fight. My brother and I talk at least once a day and I go to visit him in San Francisco every few months. I haven't spoken to my father in months.
I've gone celibate while I figure out how to disassociate love from betrayal. If you google that phrase, you'll find out why they go together like chocolate milk and peanut butter toast in my book.
I quit smoking, haven't cut myself in over a year, and am 25 pounds overweight.
My makeshift family revolves around a hole-in-the-wall beer and wine bar. I waste my time with people who serve, for all intents and purposes, as significant others without involving romantic notions. Kristie and I go crazy if we don't text each other every few hours and we meet up at least once a day for coffee or to go to the beach or to scream obscenities at each other. Pav and I get together every few weeks and stay up until 5am talking or go out to ridiculously nice dinners or have cocktails at his hip pad.