An Introduction to what you are in for...and why

I feel like you need to know the real me before you get to know my "better half".

My name is Keith.

I've always been told that I'm good at writing. Not because I use big words or make Shakespeare quality analogies, but because I am creative and can expand on simplistic subjects. My school teachers always tried to convince me to enter writing contests. One teacher was successful in his attempt and I ended up winning first place. I can assure you this isn't an attempt to toot my own horn, but rather a gauge for you to use to see how far I've come since I brought home the gold in 8th grade.

I've never been a fan of awards or titles, nor of telling anyone that I have them. Most people don't know that I was valedictorian of my high school class, a Ranatra Fusca Award for Creativity winner, Prom King, first team all league in high school baseball, voted most likely to succeed, a creative writing award winner, as well as the recipient of numerous certificates for being the "best" at something. (Just typing that paragraph made me uncomfortable.)

I commend people for working hard and being proud of their achievements. However if you come to my house you won't find any of these medals or certificates posted on my walls or mantles, but rather packed neatly in a container for some future generation of my family to find and think that maybe I was somebody.

The trophies that I have on display are of a different type. Trophies that remind me of the good times I've had with friends and family. Things such as the picture on my wall that I brought home from our local watering hole with my picture on it. Or the cheesy pamphlet from a comedy show/drug awareness seminar that tells you how to "clean your works" before shooting up to avoid getting HIV (I've never done that but there's just something humorous about seeing it in what appears to be an anti-drug flier for 6th graders). Then there is my personal favorite; the brick that I, for no good reason, took out of the road in downtown Kent while intoxicated that I now use as a door stop.

I've always been a shy soul until I'm comfortable with the people that I'm around. It seems as though once I'm friends with someone they tend to forget the way I was before they got to know me. Sometimes I know someone for a good while before they even know I'm there. While this may sound like the behavior of a stalker I assure you that it is not. I am just a VERY observant person. Little details about a person that I might aquire through overhearing conversations or witnessing someones repetative actions go a long way in helping me determine how to approach that person. I may choose to make them a preverbial "b.f.f." or to avoid them altogether.

Enter the cynicism.

This system that I have developed for feeling out social situations has made me realize how much of a cynical person I am. I'm finding out more and more that I pass out judgment like Halloween candy. Don't get me wrong. Most of my judgment calls are made based on factual previous experiences with people. However, I've been failing to realize that while some stereotypes are rock solidly true whether you believe in them or not, there are always exceptions to the rule. I'm working hard on this issue.

I think this is why I have a problem with my accolades. I see them as a basis for people to judge me. Hypocritical? Absolutely. Here I am talking about judging people with the fear that they are going to judge me back. Why do you think I'm trying to change my ways?

Enough about my struggle with judgment. Onto my love life...

I am one year removed from the most serious relationship I've ever had. Before her I never really entertained any serious thoughts of a life long commitment. I thought she was the one. I'm still struggling with it. I could write a novel about what happened and why, and maybe one night I will. The point is that ever since the day that my ex decided to move on I've squandered several opportunities to be with good, quality females. I feel bad using the "I'm still not over it" excuse but...it's true. I'm waiting impatiently for the girl that makes me feel otherwise. Keep that in mind.

I have a large void in my life that I'm constantly trying to fill with various things. It might be the reason that I get too quickly and heavily involved with girls, or the fact that I sometimes drink too much, and possibly why I jump in and out of an addictive nature with video games. I struggle to find balance in my life. Instead of enjoying many things in small portions I want all of one thing at a time.

One last thing I want to touch on is my extreme disappointment in myself. While things like my judgment issue and failure as a stable boyfriend contribute to this discouragement, I feel like I can overcome them. They are not the underlying factor. The thing that most disappoints me about my life is my relationship with my parents. And it's all my fault.

I don't know anyone that doesn't love my parents. I have the best set of parents a person can ask for. They raised me the best that they could. They've always given me everything that they could. They've helped me through every hardship that's come my way. They have always been there to support me. Why is it then that I struggle so much with returning the favor? Why is it awkward for me to give my mom or dad a hug? Or to tell them that I love them and that I appreciate everything that they've done for me? Yet I didn't have any problem telling a girl that I knew for a WHOLE MONTH that I loved HER! Nor did I have any uncomfortable feelings about holding her and sharing the most intimate of acts.

All of these are topics that I may someday go into great detail about. But for now I feel as though you have enough of a knowledge about who I am to understand why I desire to become my drunken "better half".

When I become "Smitty", as he is known to some, I love EVERYONE, I don't judge ANYONE, I try to convince girls that I will make them the happiest person in the world, and I can't wait to see my parents again so I can give them a BIG HUG.

Then I wake up....