I guess I had a relatively happy early childhood. I guess. No one ever chased me around with an axe, and I never feared for my life in general (that didn't really happen until I approached adolescence and was confronted by the realities of the world outside of my mother's house). Things were generally quite stable until my parents divorced when I was five (irreconcilable differences). After that, things were still pretty stable... just in a different way.

My mother got the house, the car, and me. She has been a teacher, working for the Chicago Public Schools, since 1970. She graduated from Crane High School in Chicago, earned her BA from Northern Illinois University, and her MA from the University of Northern Iowa (but that's another section). She eventually plans to switch from teaching to administration for CPS.

My father graduated from Hyde Park High School in Chicago, and then became a journeyman carpenter with his degree from Washburne Trade School. He's currently a music education major in college (hmmm... somewhat like two of my former fiancées), and is married to my beloved stepmother, Dr. Judy Massey Dozier, English professor and program chair for African-American Studies at Lake Forest College.

Oh yes, and this marriage has given me a stepsister, Leslie, who's about six years my senior. Leslie and her husband, Michael (my stepbrother-in-law, I suppose), have graced me with a niece, Danielle. But don't be fooled; I'm still, for all practical purposes, an only child. When Leslie became my sister, she was about 22.

I recently discovered that I have a half-brother, Evan. He looks a lot like my father and me. More on that later.

When I was two, I started attending The Learning Academy. When I was three, it burned down, so I transferred to Emmanuel Christian School. I was too advanced for the three-year-olds, so I went to the four-year-old class. This caused complications later. When I finished kindergarten, I was too young for grammar school, so I went through kindergarten again, problem solved. I later tested and got into Skinner Classical School for first grade. This was my induction into the CPS Options for Knowledge program (as the rest of the Chicago Public School system is appalling), and that's when I first learned what the term "gifted" meant. It didn't mean much to me; I didn't know any better (or more accurately, any worse). This was just another place to do schoolwork and meet new friends.

What I didn't know is that it's where I would meet Jan Rodolfo, nor why it would be particulalry significant.

I suppose I could call Jan my first love, but that wouldn't be quite right. Sure, she's the first girl I ever fell in love with, but she never fell in love with me. This is where I started the bad trend of falling for friends and not telling them for a long time. Starting in first grade, Jan was one of my four best friends (along with Daniel, Sabine, and Vishu). I really liked her. Then, in the middle of third grade, I moved away to Cedar Falls, Iowa, where my mother would spend a year working on her Master's degree in Education. At first, it was pretty much a blur. Then I finally caught up with everything and realized that I would be in Iowa until the next December, and I was okay; but there was no Jan or Danny or Sabine. Then I realized that I must love Jan, but she was nowhere nearby; so I simply held onto that knowledge in the back of my mind.

[Yeah, I spent too much time thinking when I was little. I should have been... I dunno... playing or something. I still have yet to break myself of the habit of thinking too much.]

Zoom ahead to seventh grade, and my admission to Whitney Young High School's Academic Center. Sitting in the first day of my English class (Mr. Canepa), I felt a nudge from my right. I turned around, and was greeted by a friendly familiar face. It was Jan. I was elated. Did I tell her then? Of course not. I told her two years later, when we were freshmen. I waited eight years to tell her that I was in love with her. I don't recommend that you try this. She was quite well taken aback. We discussed things, and I was informed as to how she didn't feel the same way, and we worked things out. It took two years for things to get back to some semblance of normalcy, but it was okay then. She decided to graduate a year early, and so I decided ask her to be in one of my senior portraits. I love that picture.

Ultimately, though, that relationship is somewhat lacking in significance on the grander scale (save for one particularly important event), but it does make for a sufficient segue.

As much as that breakup upset me, it would have been even worse if that had meant that I'd miss the Allen Hall Spring Formal in April of '94. Allen Residence Hall, where we lived, was more than just a dorm, and thus the formal was more than just post-adolescent posturing. It's a social event for a large group of friends (as many of the residents were) to interact in a generally unexplored context. As Allen is full of freaks, it would be intriguing to see each other out of our usual element.

Losing one's girlfriend a couple of weeks before a formal event often means not going. This was not the case in this instance. I went with my friend, Margaret, with whom I've been acquainted since high school. I wasn't planning to go, deciding instead to stay home and feel sorry for myself. Margaret insisted on not allowing me to do this, and thus demanded that I take her. Instead of wallowing in teen angst, I forgot my problems and ended up thoroughly enjoying myself, which just happened to be exactly what I needed. Thanks, Maggie.

Margaret came along in my sophomore year in high school, after Jan and I began to sort things out. She was this weird freshman (much better than those mundane freshmen), which appealed to me, so we quickly became good friends. And then in my usual fashion, I started to become extremely fond of her, but of course - true to form - I didn't tell her. Then she went off to IMSA, so I figured I'd never get to tell her, which I decided was probably for the best anyway. Then later, when I was a college freshman the in spring semester, I was perusing the list to see which new and exciting people would be moving into Allen, I noticed Margaret. Yes, guess who had graduated from high school a semester early, and was now another freak for the freak dorm. As it turned out, she already knew I had such strong feelings for her. Fortunately, it didn't have as much of an effect on our friendship as my feelings for Jan had. We're still good friends, she occasionally models for my photographs, and she is now married to Ken, an upstanding young computer geek. Oh, and they also both hold black belts in Kuk Sool Won.

As it turned out, she left, but didn't have to stay away for very long. Almost immediately afterwards, she moved back to work for SCALE, the Sloan Center for Asynchronous Learning Environments, and we ended up dating for a while. And so there it was. The irony of the situation (and there is always irony) was that it was still not what I wanted. In fact, it was almost exactly what I didn't want out of any relationship... I didn't want to see other people. I didn't want to "just date." And so we decided that we would see each other until I found that "special someone"... and that's more or less just how it happened. Now we're supposed to be friends (and I stress "supposed to be" though I won't claim to understand exactly where the situation truly stands). Although I wish we could have been more, such a thing was just not feasible at the time.

We were best friends at one point, and I loved her dearly, but that doesn't really tell much of the story. She was a lesbian... at one point... and then had a boyfriend, (incidentally also named "Chris"). And then almost immediately, we were no longer friends... for some reason that continues to escape me to this very day. I recently asked her why, but she still won't tell me, so I find myself at a loss for words. Those who know me are indeed aware of how rare an occasion that is.

There's much more to it than that, but there was so much confusion thrown into the whole mix that I'll have to figure out where to begin. More later, I suppose.

Unfortunately, there were some issues she needed to work through... things with which I could not help her at the time. And beyond that, we had both changed enough to grow apart. Though no longer together in the same capacity, Dawn and I remain friends, as before. I value her as I would a dearest friend, because we've been through a lot together, and at some key turning points in our lives, we've been there for each other. I certainly hope that eventually, she can reconcile everything and find what she's looking for, even though she's not quite sure of what that is at this point.

Without hesitation, I will say that I absolutely adored Dawn, wholeheartedly and with nary a hint of reservation. However, contrary to the beliefs of some, I'm not still in love with her. The circumstances surrounding why this has even been considered a questionable issue are somewhat complex, so I'll save that for another time.