So you left. Well, technically, as far as you know, we both left. Too bad, I was hopeful. I wouldn’t ever have told you, but I dreamed of art gallery openings and falling asleep with nothing but messy paint splatters and laughter linking us. Well, such is the nature of art. Hopeful, violent, and evidently destructive. Don’t try to find me, because the last thing I need is to be found at my weakest. I almost wish I never told you who I really am, because now I can’t even call you a friend. I can’t call you a friend without being a bad actor. Without the stability of you, I’m a little lost. I’m not going to lie to myself. I’m going to be pathetically honest- I dreamed of being your muse, the one constant in the middle of the explosion of colors. It’s okay, because blue and red don’t always make purple. Sometimes, we get excited and we end up fucking with our pallets, staining our brains with the violence, the strains of faded chaos in the form of dye that won’t leave. We were short. Not even that long, so I have practically nothing to get over, right? Around people, I can joke. I can act like it never even happened. That is, until I see you. You. Wearing your hoodie that I both hate and love. I always hated the way it had no pockets, but I loved falling asleep in it in hotel rooms that we weren’t allowed to share. I loved the idea that I could be wrapped up in you yourself, how dare you walk in late, unexpected, half asleep, wearing something that used to be mine. I was in there, in that stupid hoodie, I’ve slept in there, and it being yours made me feel like it should be mine. Like you should be mine. It all hits too fast, because you were mine. you. were. mine. And I messed up, and I had you after wanting you for so long, and I let you go because I don’t know when to appreciate what I have. My friends are worried now, am I okay they ask. Yes, I’m fine. Of course, what else would I be but fine? It was mutual. It didn’t even last too long, I had nothing to lose. Perhaps it’s a good thing I never made it to one of your art walls, I would’ve hated being framed. Perhaps it’s a good thing your doodles stayed doodles. Undefined lines. When an artist tells you you’re hot, you take it. But when an artist doesn’t tell you he appreciates you, savors you, you get concerned. I don’t need to be concerned anymore. I had smudges of eyeliner under my eyes tonight. I couldn’t help it, and the temporary ink designed to make me look half awake came crashing down in feathery tidal waves that almost looked beautiful. But they weren’t. Just like when you left, I didn’t have to ask where you went. I don’t need to know anymore. Such is the simplicity of not needing to care anymore. You’re sick? Get well soon. Sickness is difficult. To be fair, loving you was worse.
This is a difficult post to write. Anyone who’s ever had to leave a relationship can probably relate. The sinking feeling of walking away. You know that you’ve cut yourself away from something that you’re probably better off without, and yet you feel like you’ve just stupidly tied yourself down to misery. This is just going to be one of those unsent letters.
You’re in a pretty good place right now. And it makes me so, so glad that you’re where you should be. I can’t say I regret breaking up with you, because you were a good boyfriend but a pretty bad person. You made me question my priorities, and I think I fucked up a lot because of you. Regardless, I did love you, a whole lot. I should know, because I was never more heartbroken that when you accusingly asked me as soon as I broke up with you, “you never really loved me, did you?”. Of course, I loved you. So much that breaking up with you felt like I was stabbing myself repeatedly. It was good for me in the end, and that’s what counts, I can see that now. It’s just the odd night that I think back to the little paradise we created for ourselves- we filled it with loving words and we laced our fantasy with actual integrity. When it was you and me, there wasn’t really anyone else.
Sometimes I think you deserved someone so much better than me, because I got tired and stopped trying to keep up with you. You were a constant beacon of contradictions, but I though I had you mapped out. I feel like the way I broke your heart (and I know I did break your heart, we both broke each other’s heart, it’s the elephant in the room that we both might as well accept) was too cold and too cruel, even though it probably was a standard breakup. I didn’t have any faith in our relationship, which is why I let go. But you thought that as long as there was love, I would stay. The thing is, I abandoned our love because I lost faith. I don’t regret it, but I do feel guilty every now and then. You deserve to find somebody to love.
I hope you find her. When you do, I’ll be right there cheering you on.
Sometimes, secrets are like little rats that just slip out of your mouth without you meaning for them to leave. Well, the ordinary person doesn’t really have rats just casually hanging out in their mouth, but you get what I mean. Your mouth is the cage and the rats are your secrets, and sometimes when you’re not ready for an escape it will happen anyways. Now, let’s get complicated. I’m the kind of person who will spend time and money to build a very nice cage with tons of toys from my rats because a) that’s way more humane, and b) nobody likes being in a cage. But being in a pretty cage makes it at least a tiny bit better, especially when you can’t help but feel like those rats are a part of you. Now, I know this metaphor is strange, but you’re reading this blog because every post is a slice of my mind. And my mind is weirder than the average rat cage, I promise. Maybe it’s just that I can’t imagine not having rats in my cage, but coming to think of it aren’t there so many wonderful things you can do with an empty cage, things that don’t involve filling it up with rats? Well, I’m not the most responsible person, and that means that I am not good at keeping rats. They escape a lot. Some of them bite, but some of them are cute and fluffy, and the people who observe these escape artists that are rats adore them with wonder, asking me why I’ve been hiding them in my hollow cage of a mind. Then there are the people who are apprehensive, who look at the escaped rat as though it’s a complete mistake. There’s an equally hurtful reaction- people who don’t acknowledge the escape that took place. People who treat it like it’s not big deal, to the point where my rats are almost scared, almost ready to crawl back into the cage I’ve set up for them in between my ears. Almost, but not really. You see, once they get out, they set everything I care about on fire in spite of themselves.
Background information- I’ve been thinking of breaking up with my boyfriend, and this is my letter to him. Things that I would want him to know if i do end up breaking up with him. A letter that he will never read, but a letter that I had to write to get this all off my chest. P.S, my title was inspired by Troye Sivan’s “Lost Boy”. Gotta give credits where credits are due. Hotlines and cookies are at the end of this post, take care ❤
Dear Ex, (well, you’ll be my ex soon if I can find the courage)
You’re probably reading this with a broken heart, and I’m sorry. If only you could know how much it has hurt me to have to hurt you, you’d realize that this is for the best. I don’t hate you, I didn’t want to hurt you and I feel like a monster for hurting you, but this was inevitable. Did you really not see this coming? Because I did. Remember when I told you we were just stupid teenagers, and that we were going to grow up and laugh at ourselves? I remember, because you put your arm around me and told me you’d love to laugh with me. Honestly, I didn’t ever know where we were going, where I wanted us to go. I’m heartbroken too, and I miss you, but I regret to say that I feel this overwhelming relief. It’s over. The lightness that comes with the lead that pumps through my veins, the sadness, it’s undeniable. I’m sad, yes, but I’m relieved. Sadness is an emotion that will heal, happiness is under your control but I feel like being relieved isn’t. Emotional relief, for me, has so far only been a direct consequence of my actions. My emotions are the very definition of a contradiction, and the pain I feel from missing you was the very pain we’ve both been running from all along.
The truth is, this relationship wasn’t the one you deserved. We aren’t right for each other anymore, and the magic has faded out.. At least for me it has. The intransigent guilt I feel knowing everyday that you love me is endless. I know, you love me, you probably still love me after this, and I’m sorry. Because I don’t love you, and I simply can’t love you the way you want me to. I can’t love you the way you want me to, and I feel like I’ve been leading you on by loving you in the incomplete way that I have. Like this breakup is a betrayal. I know we promised to be there for each other and we promised to always be around, but it’s getting exhausting and I’m tired. Tired of keeping secrets, tired of defending you when really the only one I was trying to defend was myself, for staying with you. Even after all the red flags. Yes, you loved me, and in you I see a beautiful person, but my parents hated you. My friends warned me against you. You were like a warning sign, the way you never held the doors open or always got jealous or got angry like a broken fuse. You are your own type of person, and maybe your type of personality drew me in more than I cared to admit. The danger, the secret soft side, the rebellion of it all. Some people like that, for some people it works, but it’s got me weak. You’re leaving soon, and I know that I can’t handle a long distance relationship with you. I just don’t want to, I don’t think we could work and I’d be saving us both the heart break. I am going to regret this, but in the long term it will free me.
I’m going to regret it when you resent me. When I stop being the one you put your arm around. When I ask you if we can still be friends, and all I get from you is silence screaming back at me. Of course, I love you, and that’s the confusing part. I need to be responsible and I need to save myself some pain, but I can’t imagine not having you because I’ve had you for so long, and losing you seems so scary. It also seems unbelievably free. But that sad freedom comes with thee cost of breaking your heart, making you hate me. You’re a friend, I can’t get you to hate me, but I can’t stay tangled in this web of emotions any longer. It’s toxic, can’t you see that? I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that this relationship was only attractive because of the danger, the rebellious taste, the rush that came with all the lies until I forgot what truth felt like. It would be unfair of me to blame all of this on you, though. I can’t do that at all. I got into this and I loved it, at first. I loved you, and I loved your company and I just wanted to be wrapped up in you forever. That’s what I told you, and at the time (even though you might find this hard to believe) I meant it. I really thought you were right for me, and the only one who could actually complete me. Looking back, I can safely assume I was wrong. Turns out “forever” is a relative term, sadly. My thoughtless ‘forever’ is going to come back to possibly break your heart and my conscience a few times, and it will hurt me so much to know that I’ve hurt you. I’m saying that from the bottom of my heart. I feel like I’ve been leading you on, which is a hard thing to feel. But I guess weighing our sadnesses against each other isn’t the best way to go about this, I’d be here forever trying to justify my actions. Gosh, I hope you don’t cry. I’m not sure which would be more painful- if you were really sad, or really angry. Either way, I’d feel like human dirt.
It is going to take courage to breakup with you, but it will take endurance to stay with you. Breaking up with you will take that kind of twisted bravery that I’ve never had. I’m kidding myself if I think that this breakup will fix me, it won’t. But I can imagine myself moving on and being happier, less frustrated. Maybe we were the perfect couple, but our timing was just too off for anything to happen, and we both know that. You deserve better than someone who will string you on endlessly because she’s too scared to lose you. You deserve somebody who can love you the way you want love, full and complete. I can’t give you what you need and you deserve better. We won’t work out and we both deserve better than spending our time trying to keep this relationship alive. I’ll never be sure whether or not loving you was a mistake, but I can’t say I don’t regret it. I do, deeply. It was fun to get the short rushes of dopamine highs, but after a while the relationship was too exhausting to bear. The words, ‘we need to break up’ may have seemed cold to you at the time, but they were necessary.
I hope you understand, I need you to. Somebody could love you better, Someone could love you more, please realize that I was never the one.
GAH GUYS breaking up with him will take so much courage but I need to do it.
Thank you for reading! wanna check out more rants and weird attempts at poems and musings? My blog is open, and if you’re nice I’ll hand out cookies xD Anyways, if you’re currently struggling with depression and are feeling alone, take this free hug (click here and here and here for cute GIF s that send hugs from me to you ^^)and also a few hotlines, just in case.
Vent to an anonymous stranger- https://www.7cups.com
In case you’re feeling suicidal- http://suicide.org/
Hotlines for Depression specifically- http://addiction.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Depression_Hotlines
~just in case you need them, there are emergency hotlines at the end of this post, take care.~
The title of this post is probably extremely cryptic, just like my other posts. Because I’m Queertastic, which means I’m overly emotional, loud, a feed spammer, and someone who just can’t keep their thoughts to themselves, even if they try. Well, I’ve been contemplating over whether or not I should break up with my wonderfully twisted boyfriend, or whether I should just adjust, and get this to work. Background information– he’s moving to UK in a few months, I think he’s got a double personality, (read about that over here, the situation is more messed up than you’d think lol) and my friends and parents don’t approve of him, to put it in a polite way, i.e. they think he’s an asshole and don’t know what I see in him and why I’m with him. Hey, I can’t help being in love, can I? I usually come to this blog when I need to hear myself, sit with my thoughts, take my own advice. So, be prepared for a rant. A huge rant that will likely get emotional. Ready for a stereo-typically whiny 15 year old teenager’s blog post? Yeah, me neither. Let’s do this, Internet.
I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for a disproportionately long time now, which should possibly be my first red flag, right? He’s leaving, and while I want to believe that he’s The One, I think I know what I really am, and that’s a clueless and infatuated teenager. I’m not stupid enough to be oblivious of the cold, hard, facts. But I am, however, idiotic enough to be in an almost insane denial about it. I want him to be the one so badly it hurts. I want him, because I love him, and I can’t accept that there would be anyone who’d ever love me like him. That there won’t be anyone I’ll love as much as him. I’m afraid I’ll never find anyone else, and it’s terrifying even to contemplate being without him after over a year of being with him. I can’t imagine not having anyone to tell me they love me, not having anyone to tell me I’m beautiful, not having anyone to make out with whenever I want. Yes, that’s one of my lame reasons for not wanting to leave him. There’s another reason I don’t want to leave him- one that sort of hurts my ego to admit, but here goes. I love him and I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to hurt myself either. It will already be a blow to be without him. He’s not just my boyfriend, he’s my super amazing friend. There’s no way I’ll salvage the friendship if we break up. It’ll be a double blow because I will be hurting him. When he’s hurt, I’m hurt. That’s how love works, right? at least, that’s how it works with me. Because ouch, I don’t want to see him sad. I don’t want to see him sad because of me. Mostly, it’s because I want this to work. I love him, shouldn’t that be enough? I despise having to overthink things, y’know? It feels wrong to overthink my emotions, but hey, if I didn’t overthink I wouldn’t have this blog xD I don’t want him to leave and I don’t want him to leave on my account. I can’t hurt him, I can’t leave him, and this decision will hurt me. That’s my most selfish reason to stay in this relationship- it will break me. I don’t want to put myself through the turmoil of moving on, letting go, forgiving and forgetting. I don’t want to have lonely nights, I don’t want to not have any arms to run to whenever I can. I don’t want to have nobody to hold me when I’m down. I don’t want to dismiss the forehead kisses which make me weak in the knees. Gosh, I just don’t want to, and most of the reasons why I don’t want to are selfish. I’m sorry.
That being said, sometimes I think it’s best. He’s leaving, far far away. We’re going to try and keep the relationship, but, as I said before, I don’t think he’s the one. And if he isn’t the one, it’s going to end eventually. To me, it’s a logical conclusion that it will hurt less to break up now than to drag it out. I don’t want to wait until things go incredibly wrong and I have to violently disentangle myself from the fully fledged emotional hurricane. Maybe I should stop this while it’s still a thunderstorm, if you get what I mean. All my friends hate him, and he’s apparently a total bully when he’s not around me. When they describe his personality when he’s not around me, I don’t recognize the guy I fell in love with. To me, that’s a major problem that I’ve been ignoring. This relationship, and the main dynamics behind this relationship are some of the ones which bother me and effect me the most. I am most bothered by all the lying that goes behind this relationship. On one level, I feel as though I shouldn’t have to lie to be with him, I mean, it’s love, right? On a wholly different level, I think that there’s meaning behind the proverbs “if you don’t want anyone to find out you did it, don’t do it” and “if you have to hide it, you shouldn’t be doing it”. Who should I be trusting more, the people I’ve known for ages, or him? One side of me says: this is blinding love, don’t be stupid. The more whimsical side (which is starting to create some real problems for me) charmingly whispers: it’s love, you’re supposed to be blinded. Honestly, I think I’m being blinded ’cause this is my first time falling in love (here’s an embarrassing rant on it). I hate having to lie to my parents about my relationship, it makes me feel like I’m a bad daughter, and that is a clear indication that the relationship is having major negative emotional effects on me. Sure, he’s around to silence the screaming and screeching guilt, and he’s always there to but a band-aid on my insecurity about being a horrible daughter, (think about it- ex self harmer in recovery, too egoistic to apologize, bisexual, secretly dating, I’m every parent’s nightmare and they deserve less of a train wreck) but he’s kind of the reason why I feel like I’m a bad daughter. Total conflict of interests here… it sucks. I feel like I’m putting a permanent relationship on the line, the one with my parents, for one which I’m almost 100% sure is going to end at some point, if not in the immediate future. I guess to an outside the answer seems more logical, but to me breaking up would be harder than anything I’ve ever done.
To be honest, I don’t think I would beak up with him, even if it’s the better course. I love him, and I’d like to believe he’s an awesome person and a wonderful guy, but as one of my friends said “you’re in love with a side of him that’s dead to everyone else. He’s a douche bag to everyone, but you.” I’ll admit its slightly selfish to hold onto him simply because I need him, but I do. It’s slightly insane to hold on because in my wildest dreams, it’s him that I want to be with for a long time. I know it might be the first-love euphoria, but I can’t help it. Maybe I should be stronger, and take a temporary blow for a potentially happier future. Maybe I don’t realize that he’s bad for me and I can’t see it because I can’t imagine a life without him loving him. It’s because I love being loved and I can’t stop loving him, at least it feels like that. It feels like I’ll never move on, but I’m being foolishly blind to the fact that it’s going to end and I’m going to have to move on at some point.
tl;dr – I don’t know whether I should bend with our relationship, or break it. I’m undecided.
Thank you for reading! wanna check out more rants and weird attempts at poems and musings? My blog is open, and if you’re nice I’ll hand out cookies xD Anyways, if you’re currently struggling with depression and are feeling alone, take this free hug (click here and here and here for cute GIF s that send hugs from me to you ^^) and also a few hotlines, just in case.
Vent to an anonymous stranger- https://www.7cups.com
In case you’re feeling suicidal- http://suicide.org/
Hotlines for Depression specifically- http://addiction.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Depression_Hotlines
Today was one of the weirdest days for me, but in the kind of way that was,oddly enough, enjoyable. Ah, the butterflies in my stomach. Why don’t they ever quit? For those of you who are wondering: this is a post about falling in love. Gah, I know, that last line was cringe-worthy, wasn’t it? I’ll admit that I feel slightly pretentious writing about love, and from an outsiders view it’s easy to see how I’d look like quite the idiot. A fifteen year old, blogging with starry eyes about what she thinks is love? Sigh, I’m such a cliche, and I know it. But I think I’m in love, and since I’m practically a fetus, I’ll admit- it’s a scary thought to consider. Me? In love? gosh. That’s just…. huge. It’s not magic like I thought it would be, but it is scarier than anyone ever bothered to warn me about. Well, to start off with, nobody bothered to issue me a warning about anything at all regarding love and how it tends to be…. addictive, strong, striking, terrifying. I’m just scared, and I don’t know if it’s normal for the mere notion of love to be scary. I hope it’s a normal thing, because I am in love, this would be my first love.
I’ve heard a lot about first loves, and how they tend to burn out very quickly, how they are plaintive and how they are infatuating more than anything else. I’ve been with my S.O for a little over a year now, which I guess is pretty long, maybe not in the scheme of things, but to a clueless fifteen year old, it’s long And a year was a pretty long learning journey for me, my first relationship taught me so much and shattered so many of my expectations. I’ve learnt to find beauty in all the imperfections that come with having a human relationship- the jealousy, tears, fighting. Because all the nasty stuff is what comes with the awesome stuff that makes us human– loyalty, gestures, and love. The year has been amazing, but I think what’s been even more amazing is how throughout it all I was calmer than I expected. I wasn’t in a constant state of daydreamer-esque delirious happiness. The relationship came with tears and fights ad conflicts, yet somehow the fight and conflicts seemed to be totally outweighed by the love and the wonderful emotions. I couldn’t tell him, “I am in love with you” even though I knew, somewhere deep down that I was. But I couldn’t really say “I am in like with you”, ’cause who does that? This feeling I feel, if it is love, is very soothing, re assuring. It doesn’t seem to bear any resemblance to the crazy, starved voice of infatuation that I’ve heard quite a few times before. Love seems to be the voice that whispers in the back of my mind “I am here. I do not complete you or define you, but I definitely accept you completely” This foreign feeling is not one filled with fireworks and wonder- it doesn’t send mental sparks flying every time I think about it. Unlike the flames of infatuation, love seems to peacefully co-exist with me, no questions asked. I’m just so scared. I was scared when I realized I might be in love. I couldn’t possibly pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love, that would be impossible to do. I can tell you that it was somewhere in between the day he kissed my (self harm) scars and the time we had the huge argument and he just wordlessly opened his arms to me. Somewhere in between there, or maybe earlier, like the day I set eyes on him, almost two years ago. I really can’t tell, because there are so many moments that could’ve made me fall in love. It’s just so terrifying to have one person out of seven billion mean so much to you, to have your heart to involuntarily commit you to something so grand, without having any guarantee of getting anything in return. What’s scarier is that my heart doesn’t seem to give a fuck whether or not it gets anything back in return, it seems content with just loving. It’s exhilarating to know he’s in love with me too, gosh. It makes me wonder what I was missing all this while.
It makes me wonder whether or not he’s scared, too- every time his fingers are laced with mine, every time he plants a kiss on my forehead, very time he just hugs me, every time he’s cried in front of me? Is love what he feels? During the kisses, yelling, crying, creaming, and silence? Is this love? Damn, I wish I had an answer. They always say you will know when it’s love, and somewhere deep inside of me I know that it is love. That’s what I think it is, but I’m a first timer in the business of loving and being loved. Maybe I’m trying to convince myself out of the idea that this is love. This is terrifying, but it’s an enjoyable ride.
I just need to vent right now after having a huge fight. With my boyfriend. And I’m wondering at the back of my mind if the scenario would’ve been any different if I wasn’t Bi. I’m in for a good session of doubting myself, get ready, WordPress! This is the same boyfriend that I absolutely love and adore, the one that means the world to me. We’re over it now, the both of us were able to move on pretty quickly. But unlike him, I just need some time to recuperate. I don’t want it to seem like I’m dragging the fight on, though, so I’m just going to have to manage with a few private moments of recovery from something that’s already been resolved, just to let all the feelings die down a little. I don’t have any reason to be hurt, that’s just the way I am, feelings take a little longer to escape my system. I was debating over what to title this post. “Vent”? Or “Does Being Bisexual Affect My Relationship”? Or even just “I’m So Done Right Now”. That was an unnecessary bit of information that I might edit out later, or I’ll keep it in just for the reader to laugh at xD basically, word got out from his friends that I was sitting on one of my (female) friend’s lap.
This probably sounds really weird already. Let me explain. I’m not publicly out as Bisexual yet (the reason why? That’s a whole other post, but let’s just leave it at the fact that I’m terrified) and when I sat on my friends lap (she doesn’t know I’m Bi) it was literally just a joke, and I didn’t even give it second thought. Well, he was talking to his friend and it was all fun and games ‘till they told him I was sitting on a girls lap the other day. His friends didn’t know I was Bi, but he sure as hell did. Apparently he got up and stormed out of the room. I wasn’t in the room at that time, I was outside just chilling with my friends and he looked at me and he was like “I need to talk to you, I just really need to talk to you” and gave me this dead serious look before storming away, throwing his bag down to the floor in the process. Gosh, he was pissed. Unrealistically pissed. So pissed, in fact, that I thought he was playing a prank on me, because we’re the type of couple that plays these weird pranks on each other a lot. I was shocked when I realised he wasn’t playing a prank. For a few minutes, we talked and we were dead serious. Not just dead serious, he was like I’d never seen him before. Jealous. Angry. Disappointed, at something I didn’t even give a second thought to. If I wasn’t Bisexual, he wouldn’t be angry. This was his natural response to me sitting on another girl’s lap, but I was so weirded out by the fact that I couldn’t see what was actually a very clear boundary for him. I had no way of knowing, he didn’t have any intention of telling me, and today it all got let out. We both got angry, and I asked him “do you really think I’d be that type of person to hurt you, to want to see you like this?” And he said “well, I thought you weren’t”. From then, all hell broke loose from my side. Surprisingly though we ended it by concluding that we still loved each other enough to admit that we both made mistakes and both deserved apologies. I’m still trying to get past the fight, because despite the fact that we differ so much, I really do love him. There was a moment, where I’d just finished the end of a long speech about how I never wanted to hurt him ever and how he was totally undermining the fact that he meant the world to me, where he was just really silent for a while, and the he opened his arms out and I just flew into them. We hadn’t officially made up yet, but in that moment I knew that like a strong couple we were going to get over it, I think venting just helped a lot. I already feel better 🙂 It’s only now that I realise that when you’re in a relationship with someone who is your complete opposite, things get really tricky and you’ve got to learn to deal with that together ❤ I’ve had my fair share of drama for today (seriously, the whole grade was gossiping, I hate public fighting) and now I’m just gonna sign out and maybe hit the gym, get some coffee, read a book, and get over the fight so we can have a kickass date tomorrow. Yup. Thanks for listening, Internet.
So, like some of my other posts, the title of this one is probably really cryptic, isn’t it? Especially considering I’ve been bullied before. So, I hear you asking, “What the actual eff is she doing dating a bully?” Well, if you’re confused, don’t worry, ’cause trust me, I am too. And I’ve been confused for a very long time, it’s just occurred to me that I can go ahead and vent into the vast open internet. Long story short though, this post is gonna be a rant on me dating a guy who is apparently a “bully” (my friends just hate him and make it a point to tell me he sucks every single chance they get) but he’s actually super awesome and I think I’m in love with him (oops). So, this is gonna be a pretty weird rant of mine xD
To different people, “The Talk” means different things- to a parent it could mean the birds and the bees talk, to an LGBTQ+ Unicorn, it could mean coming out, and to a gaggle of eight year old girls “The Talk” is a matter of vague fantasies (I know when I was eight, all I could do was fantasize about what the talk was xD) Well, to specify, ’cause there are so may different types of talks to have, this talk I had was with my boyfriend. About sex. Ready for a little bit of cringing, anonymous viewer? awesomesauce, let’s get on to it.