spacecadetjames

About me:

“Some people are born into a world that loves them. Others spend their entire lives trying to find somewhere they belong.”
Hey there! My name is James. I'm 34 years old, born June 15th, 1992. I've spent most of my life in Oregon, although I've been living in New Mexico for quite some time now. I originally moved here because of someone I loved, believing I was beginning an entirely new chapter of my life. Unfortunately, life has a rather peculiar way of taking the things you once thought were permanent and turning them into distant memories.
I've been here for several years, but I honestly don't envision myself staying forever. Someday, I'd like to pack up my belongings, leave the familiar surroundings behind, and start somewhere completely new. Somewhere without so many memories attached to every street, every familiar place, and every passing thought. I haven't figured out where that place is yet, but I suppose that's part of the adventure.
I'm still trying to figure out where I belong in this world.
And perhaps that's where my story begins.
I haven't exactly lived what most people would consider an ordinary life. In fact, I've spent a considerable portion of it simply trying to survive.
I practically grew up raising myself. When I was 14 years old, I made the decision to leave an abusive and controlling household because I could no longer endure the environment I was living in. My childhood was anything but peaceful. My mother struggled with alcoholism and drug addiction, and she was emotionally and physically abusive. My stepfather was abusive as well. Home was never somewhere I associated with comfort, security, or unconditional love. It was somewhere I learned to be constantly on guard.
One of the things I'll never forget is my own mother telling me that she wouldn't care whether I was dead or alive, and that I wasn't worth more than the penny in her pocket.
There are certain things a child should never have to hear, particularly from the person who is supposed to love them unconditionally.
I never really experienced what having a loving family was supposed to feel like. I never had that childhood where you could come home knowing somebody was waiting for you, somebody genuinely cared about your well-being, or somebody would be there when everything fell apart.
I never knew my biological father either. He spent much of his life in prison, and I never met him. He passed away from a heroin overdose when I was approximately 12 years old I was invited to his funeral but never went.
By the time I was old enough to understand the world around me, I'd already experienced more than I should have.
When I finally left home at 14, I essentially became responsible for my own survival. Most of my teenage years were spent homeless, sleeping wherever I could find somewhere to stay, and trying to navigate a world that didn't seem particularly interested in whether I made it through another day.
There was no safety net waiting for me. No family to take me in. No comfortable place to return to when things became difficult. Just me, figuring things out one day at a time.
As I got older, I occasionally managed to find somewhere to stay, including hotels, and eventually began working at a hotel to establish some kind of stability for myself. Everything I've ever had, I've had to work for. I've never really had the luxury of depending on somebody else to provide me with a comfortable life.
I learned independence before I ever had the opportunity to experience security and a loving childhood.
I don't share these things because I'm looking for sympathy, attention, or pity. They're simply part of my history. I believe our experiences, particularly the ones we endure during childhood, leave impressions that follow us long after the circumstances themselves have disappeared.
Sometimes the hardest part of growing up isn't becoming an adult. It's learning how to live with everything that happened before you ever had the chance to become one.

When I was 28, I met someone who completely changed the direction of my life.
For the first time, I genuinely believed I had found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I fell deeply in love with her, and eventually made one of the biggest decisions of my life: leaving Oregon and moving all the way to New Mexico because I wanted to build a future with her.
After spending so much of my childhood without a family, without stability, and without anyone I could truly depend on, I think I wanted something that most people probably take for granted.
I wanted a home.
Not simply an apartment or somewhere to sleep, but a place where I belonged. Someone to come home to. Someone to share the little things with. Someone who genuinely wanted me there.
She had grown up in foster care and received support through a program called the DD Waiver. Because of her circumstances, guardianship arrangements, and the involvement of her support system, our relationship was considerably more complicated than a typical relationship.
There were restrictions on when we could see one another, how much time we could spend together, and what our relationship could look like.
Eventually, I was told that things might become different if I established myself financially, found employment, and obtained my own apartment. I took that seriously.
I worked, saved money, put in the hours, and did everything I could to create a stable environment. I wasn't doing it simply because I wanted an apartment. I was doing it because I genuinely believed I was working toward a future with someone I loved.
Eventually, I accomplished everything I'd been working toward.
But even after getting my own apartment and establishing myself, the circumstances surrounding our relationship barely changed.
We were still generally limited to seeing each other on Mondays and Saturdays. I was permitted to have her stay overnight on Thursdays, but only between 8 PM and 8 AM.
She was taking several medications, and many nights she'd arrive at my apartment only to fall asleep almost immediately. I'd lie there wishing we could have more time together, wishing things could be different, and imagining what life might eventually look like if we were finally allowed to experience a normal relationship.
And so the years passed.
One year became two. Two became five. Eventually, seven years had gone by.
Seven years of loving somebody, making sacrifices, waiting patiently, and convincing myself that eventually everything would fall into place.
I genuinely believed she was my soulmate. I thought I'd finally found the person I'd spend eternity with.
Then came the phone call that changed everything.
She told me that the company involved in her care no longer wanted us together and that I wouldn't be allowed to see her anymore. Which was a lie...she just didn't want to be with me anymore and that was the easiest way for her to get rid of me like I was nothing..
Just like that.
Seven years of memories, affection, promises, sacrifices, and everything I'd invested emotionally disappeared from my everyday life.
I can't adequately describe what that felt like.
I'd left my home state, moved somewhere I knew practically nothing about, established myself financially, obtained my own apartment, and spent seven years believing I was building toward a shared future.
I had invested so much of my time, money, energy, and heart into that relationship that I genuinely didn't know what to do with myself when it ended.
It felt as though the entire future I'd imagined had been taken away in a single conversation.
I went through an incredibly dark period afterward. The loneliness, depression, and emotional devastation were unlike anything I'd experienced before. I contemplated suicide and really wanted to die. I had to confront the reality that the person I'd imagined spending my life with was suddenly no longer part of it.
And perhaps the most difficult part was realizing that I had to continue living in the place I'd moved to for someone who was no longer there.
Even now, I still think about those seven years. I still wonder how something that meant so much to me could end the way it did.
Some memories don't fade simply because you wish they would. Sometimes the past follows you into the present, quietly occupying corners of your mind that you wish you could finally reclaim.
I've often wished I could erase those memories entirely. Not because I regret having loved somebody, but because remembering something you can no longer have can be an extraordinarily painful experience.
I'd like to move somewhere new someday. Somewhere I can begin again without constantly being reminded of a chapter of my life that I never imagined would end this way.
I don't know exactly what the future holds for me, but I know I don't want the rest of my life to be defined by something that happened in my past.
I'm still here. Still trying. Still figuring things out.
And perhaps that's enough for now.

Now that I've covered some of the more serious parts of my life I'll tell you a little about the person I actually am.
Despite everything I've experienced, I'm genuinely a friendly, affectionate, compassionate, and caring person. I'm naturally shy, introverted, and extremely reserved around people I don't know.
I've struggled with agoraphobia for most of my life, which has made social situations and putting myself out there particularly difficult. I'm not somebody you'll typically find at crowded parties, surrounded by enormous groups of people, or constantly out socializing.
Most of the time, I'm perfectly content keeping to myself, doing my own thing, and enjoying my own company.
That doesn't mean I don't want meaningful connections, though. Quite the opposite.
I've spent so much of my life being alone that sometimes the silence becomes a little too familiar. I'd genuinely like to meet someone I can talk to, laugh with, exchange music recommendations with, share interests, and develop a actual friendship with.
I'm probably going to be a little awkward and quiet initially. I might not always know what to say, and sometimes it takes me a while to become comfortable around somebody.
But once I do, there's considerably more to me than first impressions might suggest.
I'd rather have one genuinely meaningful connection than a thousand superficial acquaintances. I'm not particularly interested in collecting friends just for the sake of having a large social circle.
I'd rather find people who understand the value of genuine communication, loyalty, individuality, and simply being themselves.

Creativity has always been one of the biggest parts of my identity.
I've been interested in art for practically as long as I can remember. I've been tattooing since I was approximately 14 years old, and the majority of my tattoos, along with all of my piercings, are self-done.
I've always been fascinated by the artistic possibilities of body modification, tattoo culture, unconventional aesthetics, and alternative forms of self-expression.
I enjoy drawing, sketching, painting, designing tattoos, experimenting with different artistic techniques, and creating things that have their own personality.
I tend to gravitate toward darker imagery, unusual concepts, gothic influences, macabre artwork, and anything that incorporates a little bit of mystery or melancholy.
I've always believed art is more interesting when it has something to say.
Beyond visual art, I enjoy playing acoustic guitar and piano, skateboarding, cooking, and experimenting with different creative projects.
I'm the type of person who can spend hours working on an artistic idea simply because I have something in my head that I want to bring into existence.
I suppose I've always been a little unconventional. I've never been particularly interested in following whatever happens to be popular at the moment.
I'd rather develop my own aesthetic, create something original, and embrace the things that make me different.
Music has always been an enormous part of my life.
I'm particularly drawn to emo, alternative, punk, post-hardcore, underground rap, dark alternative music, and anything with an emotional atmosphere or unconventional sound.
I enjoy music that feels personal. Music with lyrics that actually mean something, music that captures emotions you sometimes struggle to articulate yourself, and music that makes you feel understood even when you can't quite explain why.
I've always gravitated toward artists who aren't afraid to explore darker subjects, vulnerability, heartbreak, isolation, anger, and the more complicated aspects of being human.
My music taste is pretty extensive, and I'm always discovering new artists.


I'm also incredibly nostalgic for the early 2000's music scene because I grew up in the 90's, early 2000's.
My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Aiden, Afi, all american rejects and the countless other bands that defined an entire generation will always have a special place in my heart.
Which brings me to something I feel pretty strongly about...

Yes, I'm one of those people.
I've been part of the emo, alternative, and underground subcultures since approximately 2005. I grew up during the era when My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, and Fall Out Boy were relatively new bands, and alternative culture was something considerably different from what people associate with it today.
I am the litteral definition of an OG elder emo, and I'm not particularly afraid to admit it.
For me, being emo was never simply about wearing black clothing, having long hair covering your eyes, listening to a particular genre of music, or following a specific fashion aesthetic.
It was an entire identity and a form of emotional expression.
It was the music, the lyrics, the individuality, the artwork, the fashion, the subculture, and the feeling of belonging to something that existed outside the expectations of mainstream society.
Back then, being different didn't necessarily make you popular. In fact, it often did the exact opposite.
Alternative kids were frequently misunderstood, judged, bullied, or simply excluded because they didn't fit into whatever society considered normal.
You weren't necessarily trying to look cool. You weren't necessarily trying to impress anybody. You simply found something that resonated with you, and you embraced it.
For many of us, alternative culture provided a sense of identity during periods when we didn't particularly feel like we belonged anywhere else.
I connected with that culture long before alternative fashion became a mainstream aesthetic or something people adopted simply because it was fashionable.
I grew up around the music, the attitudes, the individuality, and the culture itself.
I still appreciate that era enormously.
I miss the atmosphere of the early internet, MySpace, old-school emo fashion, band merchandise, studded belts, skinny jeans, oversized hoodies, Hot topic when it was just a store for goths and emos to hang out, alternative hairstyles, underground music, and the feeling that everyone had their own individual identity.
I'm not interested in arguing about who is or isn't emo enough. People should enjoy whatever they genuinely connect with.
But for me, this has never been a temporary aesthetic.
It's been part of who I am for practically my entire childhood and adult life.
Some things are trends. Others become part of your identity.
I'm also a pretty big video game enthusiast, particularly when it comes to older consoles.
I grew up playing the Nintendo 64 and Nintendo GameCube, and those systems will always hold a special place in my heart.
There's something about the atmosphere, creativity, soundtracks, and overall experience of games from that generation that newer releases don't always manage to recreate.
I have a particular appreciation for the late 90s and early 2000s gaming era.
Some of my favorite Nintendo 64 games include:
Conker's Bad Fur Day, Resident Evil 2, Super Mario 64, GoldenEye 007, Banjo-Kazooie, Banjo-Tooie, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, Donkey Kong 64, and plenty more.
When it comes to the GameCube:
Super Mario Sunshine, Luigi's Mansion, Paper Mario, Animal Crossing, Star Fox Adventures, The Simpsons: Hit & Run, and The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker.
I'm also into PlayStation, Xbox, PC gaming, and plenty of other consoles.
I enjoy discovering older games, revisiting childhood favorites, and experiencing games that have a little nostalgia attached to them.
If you grew up playing these systems, there's a pretty good chance we'll have something to talk about.
If I had to describe myself, I'd probably use words like emotional, affectionate, loyal, compassionate, sensitive, creative, introverted, and occasionally a little too attached for my own good.
I'm someone who feels things pretty deeply.
When I genuinely care about somebody, I don't really know how to do it halfway. I become invested in their life, their happiness, their interests, and the little details that other people might overlook.
I'm affectionate, attentive, and somebody who genuinely enjoys spending time with the people I care about.
I like conversations throughout the day, random messages, sharing music, laughing about stupid things, spending quiet evenings together, and simply knowing that somebody genuinely wants me around.
I can admittedly become a little clingy when I develop strong feelings for somebody. It's something I've become increasingly aware of, and I think some of it comes from spending so much of my life without having anyone I could consistently depend on.
When you've spent much of your life experiencing abandonment and instability, the idea of finally having somebody who chooses to stay can mean considerably more to you than you might know how to explain.
I'm not perfect, and I certainly have things I'm still learning about myself.
But I don't play emotional games. I don't enjoy dishonesty, manipulation, unnecessary drama, or pretending to care about somebody when I don't.
I appreciate people who communicate openly, understand the importance of loyalty, and aren't afraid to show affection.
I believe actions mean considerably more than words.
I'd rather have somebody demonstrate that they care through consistency than spend my time listening to promises that never materialize.
And although I'm independent and have learned how to take care of myself, I still appreciate the idea of having somebody beside me.
Not somebody who completes me, but somebody who genuinely wants to experience life alongside me.
I've always been somewhat of a hopeless romantic, although life hasn't exactly given me the most convincing arguments in favor of romance.
I still believe there's something extraordinary about finding somebody you can genuinely connect with.
Somebody you can be completely comfortable around. Somebody you can talk to for hours without running out of things to say. Somebody who makes even the most ordinary days feel a little less ordinary.
I'd love to eventually meet someone with whom I could build a meaningful, lasting relationship.
Someone to travel with, experience new things with, laugh with, play video games with, listen to music with, and eventually look back on life together.
I'm not looking for somebody to rescue me, repair my past, or take responsibility for my happiness.
I've spent enough of my life learning how to stand on my own two feet.
I simply think there's something beautiful about finding somebody who genuinely chooses to stand beside you.
I value emotional intimacy, honesty, affection, communication, mutual respect, and consistency.
I'm not interested in temporary attention or relationships built around appearances.
I'd rather develop something meaningful with someone who understands that love is more than a feeling. It's also a choice, a commitment, and something demonstrated through everyday actions.
Perhaps I'm a little old-fashioned when it comes to that.
But I'd rather be somebody who still believes in genuine connection than somebody who has convinced themselves that nothing meaningful exists anymore.
I drink an absolutely ridiculous amount of Monster Energy. Usually around three or four cans a day.
I've been obsessed with Monster since 2004, so at this point, I think it's safe to say the obsession has become a permanent personality trait. 
Honestly, I'm here because I'd like to meet someone who share similar interests and perhaps develop a genuine friendship along the way.
I'm particularly interested in meeting other alternative, emo, punk, artistic, creative, and generally unconventional people.
People who enjoy music, tattoos, piercings, gaming, drawing, painting, skateboarding, alternative fashion, old-school internet culture, or anything that falls a little outside the ordinary.
I'd love to meet people who remember the early MySpace days, grew up during the 2000s alternative scene, or simply appreciate the nostalgia of that era.
But you don't necessarily have to share all my interests.
I'm perfectly happy getting to know somebody with completely different hobbies, perspectives, and experiences.
What matters more to me is personality.
I appreciate open-minded people, genuine conversations, kindness, individuality, and people who don't feel the need to constantly pretend to be something they're not.
I'm not particularly good at approaching strangers, so if I'm quiet initially, please don't mistake that for disinterest.
Sometimes making the first move is difficult for me, but I genuinely do enjoy getting to know people.
I'd much rather have an interesting conversation with somebody who has something meaningful to say than exchange a hundred meaningless messages.
If there's one thing I'd want somebody to understand about me, it's that there's considerably more to a person than what initially meets the eye.
Behind the tattoos, piercings, dark clothing, alternative aesthetics, and somewhat unconventional personality is simply a human being who has experienced his fair share of difficulties.
I've experienced abandonment, homelessness, abuse, heartbreak, disappointment, and periods of loneliness that I wouldn't wish upon anybody.
I've had to learn things about life that I probably should never have needed to learn at such a young age.
I've spent years figuring out how to survive independently, how to rebuild when things fall apart, and how to keep moving forward when the future doesn't look particularly promising.
I suppose those experiences have influenced the person I've become.
They've made me introspective, emotionally sensitive, independent, and perhaps a little more complicated than the average person.
But I don't want my past to be the only thing that defines me.
I'm still an artist. I'm still creative. I still enjoy music, video games, tattoos, and all the little things that make life interesting.
I still laugh at ridiculous things. I still get excited about discovering a new song. I still enjoy spending hours working on artwork or revisiting an old video game.
And despite everything, I still have a genuine appreciation for people, affection, friendship, and the possibility of experiencing something good.
I don't have a perfect life, a perfect history, or a particularly clear picture of where I'll be five years from now.
I'm simply trying to figure things out, find somewhere I belong, and create a future that feels a little more like the life I've always wanted.
Maybe someday I'll find that place.
Maybe I'll meet an interesting person along the way.
Maybe the next chapter will be considerably better than the last.
Who knows?
For now, I'm just taking things one day at a time.
If you've somehow managed to read this entire autobiography, congratulations. You've officially invested more time learning about me than most people probably ever will. 
In all seriousness, I appreciate you taking the time.
I'm not particularly interested in pretending to be somebody I'm not, creating some fictional version of myself, or making my life sound more glamorous than it actually is.
This is me. My history, my interests, my personality, my mistakes, my experiences, and everything in between.
I'm a little strange, a little introverted, occasionally awkward, somewhat dark-minded, overly sentimental, and probably running on an unhealthy amount of Monster Energy.
But I'm also friendly, affectionate, creative, loyal, and genuinely interested in getting to know people.
If anything I've written resonates with you, if we share similar interests, or if you simply feel like having an interesting conversation, don't hesitate to send me a message.
You don't need some elaborate introduction. A simple hello is perfectly fine.
I'm always happy to meet another interesting human being.
After all, perhaps we're all just slightly damaged, beautifully unconventional individuals trying to find our place in a world that doesn't always make much sense.
Stay weird. Stay different. Never apologize for being yourself. The world has enough ordinary people.