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My Name is Robert Walsh and I have been through some significant transformations in my life and I need to tell someone about them; *quot;I need to tell my story*quot;.

How it began...

I am 49 years old now, but this all began for me about 39 years ago when I was a boy living with my mom in a 1 bedroom apartment in the basement of the Babylon Shores Motel. I didn't know this at the time but my mom had been divorced because my dad had caught her several times in our house screwing her boss *quot;Lenny*quot;.

My mom has worked at the Babylon Shores Motel as a House Keeper since as long as I can remember. Her boss was a tall Italian guy who I don't remember much about; except he was overweight and wore a lot of cologne. He always had his shirt opened showing off his big belly and gold cross; and he was always mad at me, or so it seemed.

My mom on the other hand had a slim waist with large breasts that seemed to spill out of her chest with a pear shaped butt, she was about five foot five with long wavy dirty blonde hair and high cheek bones, that made her look like a model; or at least that's what the men she brought home told her. At that time in my life I was an average sized pudgy boy with dark hair. I had no friends my own age and I was lacking in self esteem and personal self worth. The older kids would always pick on me; they would say that with my long hair and pudgy body I looked like a girl.

There was never much to do and so I would always be home sitting on the couch playing with my toys or watching T.V. waiting for my mom to get back. When she got home, her boss always stopped by to talk with her and they would always be talking privately in her bedroom.

After my dad threw me and mom out on the street, we went to live in the one bedroom apartment in the basement of the building that my mom worked at. The apartment was small. In the kitchen was a stove, sink and refrigerator, the living room had a five foot worn-out leather couch that one of the tenants must have left or thrown out, and a coffee table that became our breakfast and dinner table.

There was a small closet off the living room that was set in between the bathroom and bedroom, it had no door and no shelves; just a storage place for one stool. There were two pictures of horses hanging on the walls inside the closet but because the closet had no door, it didn't seem strange that there were pictures hanging inside on the walls. The bathroom was tiny and the one bedroom had no windows and was just large enough to fit the king size bed and a cabinet for clothes.

My mom had a lot of guy friends most of whom were black men and a few were women. I don't have a lot of memories or her friends because every time they would come over to visit with Lenny they would tell me to leave and go sit and play on the couch. Then Lenny would come out of the room and yell at me to go to sleep and then he would go sit on the stool in the closet. The couch was facing away from the closet so I couldn't see what Lenny was doing and I was too afraid to turn and look over the back of the couch for fear that he would get mad. Always after about a half hour Lenny would make some grunting noises and then go into the bathroom and run the water for a few seconds; after he came out of the bathroom he would sit on the couch and talk nice to me while waiting for his friend to finish talking to my mom.

About a year after we moved into the apartment the building was sold to a family and the new owners became my mom's new bosses. Her new bosses were very nice to me and mom. The first time I met Tyrell in the apartment he gave me some head phones and a CD player with a CD in it. It was some R