X1wallflower1X
I've never understood the meaning of love. Seriously, I don't get it. People all around me always seem to be in love, whether it's family, friends, or lovers.
You see, I have never had anyone to love. My family fell apart when I was nine. I never really fit in, so I had no friends. Since I didn't have any friends, I don't think any boy wanted to make love to me.
Well, until now.
Before my Junior year began, I decided to move to my Grandpa's in a small town called Ithaca. I just couldn't stand it any longer in Vancouver with my mom (I'll explain later). And my dad was in a mental institute, so it was either my grandpa or my grandma, who just came out of the closet after she divorced. I don't hate gay/lesbian people, my grandma just is a little too open about it. The house was fine, even with the million cats I had to share my room with. It was just the school.
I'm Summer, and this is the story of my Crazy, Messed-up Life.