Three facts
There are three things, so far, that I do or have considered facts before the situation properly arose. So like personal prophecy.
1) “I will be a chemical engineer” from 8th grade. Absolute certainty. And I am.
2) “I will marry the first person I seriously date.” To the point that I didn’t want to date a girl I like but who’s a bit of a handful because I was sure I’d end up in a miserable marriage with her. And I tried so hard to not consider myself seriously dating my partner, but he’s too damn good. We’ll see if it comes true but I’m not inclined to disbelieve it at this point. Hell, boy is moving across the country and tying himself to another corporate job to be with me. What a good.
3) “I will die because of a neutral colored, late model sedan.” I don’t know what it means, but it makes me particularly anxious when a light colored sedan is riding my ass on the freeway late at night and I won’t drive one because of it.
I don’t know how to talk about this weird belief of #3 without mentioning #2 and at this point I’m trying to let my relationship take an appropriate course for who we are rather than jam it into a box I built before I met my partner. But I think whenever, whichever way it’s decided if #2 is accurate, it’ll be a fun addition to the story of my first relationship. Though I think it’d be cuter as an engagement story than as a “I was dumb, huh?” story. Particularly since all my fears about that belief were based on the expectation that my first relationship would be monogamous.
I’m so tired of not being totally better. I am so much better that it feels like I should be able to sit back and rest on my laurels for a minute. But when I try I end up angrily writing page after page about a woman I’ve never met because of some combination of wanting a nemesis, jealousy, and wanting to protect my love from all harm.
I just want to be at peace and not have this bubbling discomfort. A discomfort that can be applied to anything and make me miserable about whatever it sticks to. I know the answer but it feels so hard. I just want to be kind of ok for a bit before diving back in to hard stuff.
I’m tired.
whenilostme:
Oh no, I think I’m falling in love with a boy
He was supposed to be a casual fuck. Someone convenient to have fun with who emotions wouldn’t be a problem with. Turns out I’m definitely bi and not as gay as I hoped and I’m totally bi for him. I like his face and miss him when we’re apart. His dumb jokes are funny and I want him to succeed in everything he does, even if it doesn’t make sense to me. I want a future with him and know our time living in the same place is limited. I’d rather see him happy than me happy.
Fuck, yup, we’re in love. It’s charming and sweet and I love his cute, good, dumb face.
He’s basically perfect for me in all these ways I never expected. And he’s poly so I don’t even have to worry about never being with a woman again if we manage to make this thing last
Goddamit, I love a man
Oh no, I think I’m falling in love with a boy
He was supposed to be a casual fuck. Someone convenient to have fun with who emotions wouldn’t be a problem with. Turns out I’m definitely bi and not as gay as I hoped and I’m totally bi for him. I like his face and miss him when we’re apart. His dumb jokes are funny and I want him to succeed in everything he does, even if it doesn’t make sense to me. I want a future with him and know our time living in the same place is limited. I’d rather see him happy than me happy.
Allow me a petty moment, I’ve been dying to say this for a while but I know it’s not chill at all
Keep reading
I am still pissed that she didn’t respect my boundaries though.
“I discovered a thing about myself that I don’t want to tell people but I want to tell you I’m happy about it!”
“Tell me!”
“No, I’m not ready to share it”
“Tell me!”
“No”
“Tell me!”
Bitch can fuck right off with that
Keep reading
I think I might need actual closure with that former friend the last two posts were about. I’ve healed a lot and I’m doing a lot better as a person since then. Partly from not having her in my life, mostly from work I’ve done on my mental health, bettering my position in life (I graduated!), and as a consequence of losing weight and exercising more. As a consequence of the ways I had to change in order to lose over 60lbs (going for 10lbs more, then getting Renee O’Conner abs and Michelle Obama arms) I’m not hiding from difficult tasks, not blaming others/society for my failings, and learning to change myself because I love myself and deserve better than stagnation. Being thin and hot is bomb as fuck but the real prize is not being a victim who needs coddling but is ashamed of being coddled. That was a miserable way to live. Also the physical pain from being too fat for my body to handle is gone, as is most of my acne, my acid reflux, and my constant fatigue. What used to be an exhausting day is now a “shit I did nothing today” day.
But as I’ve gotten better I still have these moments where something will remind me of her and I’ll just freak out. If someone will listen to me I uncontrollably complain about her until something blessedly interrupts me. If no one’s around I get in an imaginary argument with her and maybe go to her tumblr and pout about how she’s out there liking things I like. It’s really not healthy or productive or something I enjoy but it’s like picking a scab until it bleeds and then wondering why the fuck you just did that. And I feel like I’ve pretty much hit a wall with how I can emotionally progress on that front until I can actually tell her why we’re not friends anymore.
But I’m also not prepared to contact her in any way, shape, or form. I don’t even want to do that fake letter to get your feelings out thing.
I don’t want her in my life or in my head.
I think I want to talk to a therapist about this before I actually contact her at all. I don’t want to open that can of worms until I’m sure I can cope with it. Maybe in a couple months I’ll feel ready to write fake letters variously chewing her out, explaining myself, and forgiving her. Because ultimately I think forgiveness is the way to rid myself of the power I feel she has in my life. But I expect I’ll keep having the mental argument where she calls me a bitch and I describe every single time she did me wrong until I actually talk to her and tell her why I actually cut contact. Hopefully the letters will make those more scripted and less sputtering without the progression to descending into hours of vividly re-living everything I’m mad about.
you: it’s ok if you don’t want to be friends
me: i don’t want to be friends
you: whaT THE FUCK???? HOW DARE YOU?
me: [block]
The voices:
(Mild surprise & annoyance) I’d swear that he’s dead
*lively piano music*
*garbled elderly person’s humming and singing* ahh dadada dum dadadaba dadumdadadadum
You’d think that’d’ve been preserved in a prison population
*Xylophone music*
Maple syrup
I’m sorry that didn’t make any sense it was all “dununnnunuh” and then I…
All the actual things are so insipid and dull that the second I hear them they’re forgotten, they’re really hard to get to paper
