Love Stories

idk if im gay or bi or straight or just confused. like i see this one boy in my school and he smile at me and my brain went all like fuzzy?? not like when i look at girls sometimes idk it just feel different. not better or worse just weird. i dont like hate myself or nothing but i feel like i wanna know what this is. i try look at girls the same way but it not same feeling even tho i still think they look pretty. my friends always talk about girls like oh she's hot or whatever and i laugh along but i feel kinda fake. like why i dont feel that strong? but then again maybe i do just not same time or same way. my brain go all confuse when i try think hard. i seen some gay stuff online too and some of it make me feel things, like not bad things just kinda like oh that’s nice, and i dont know if that mean something or if it just a normal thing like people curious. i read that some people just need time to figure and that you not gonna have all answers at once so maybe that’s me too;

i talk to my cousin once, he gay and he said it took him years to know. he said don’t rush and just feel what you feel, don’t push it away but don’t force nothing either. he nice and i trust him but still i scared to even say to friends or anything. they not bad people just always making jokes like calling stuff gay like it’s dumb or weak or something and that make me not wanna say stuff even if i maybe gay. i don’t feel ashamed or like i’m doing wrong but i also don’t wanna be laughed at or treated weird. i think about future too and if i wanna have a boyfriend or girlfriend and it feel like both could maybe happen?? but also neither maybe?? is that even a thing? like not choosing or just feeling okay with both and letting it go where it go. i wish school teach this stuff better instead of just making us read poems from old dead guys. we got feelings too and not everyone feel same and that okay. sometimes i just wanna talk and say all this out loud but my throat close up like i scared of my own voice.

i still don’t have answer. maybe i never will get a big moment where i’m like “oh now i know”. maybe it gonna be little stuff adding up and one day i’ll just feel okay with whatever i am. for now i think it's fine to wonder and not know for sure. maybe you reading this feel same and that okay too. i’m just trying my best to be honest with myself and not hate anything i feel. i wanna like who i like and be okay with that. life already hard enough without me hating my own heart. so i gonna keep thinking and living and hoping that things get clearer. and maybe one day i’ll smile at someone and they smile back and it just make sense. 😊

have you ever noticed how relationships can sometimes blur our vision, much like a mismatched pair of glasses? in the complex realm of love, it's reminiscent of the way a barista perfectly layers a latte; intricate, delicate, and sometimes opaque. while navigating my own love life recently, i found myself caught in a whirlwind that left me questioning everything about how i perceive affection. it's as if i was sipping from a cup labeled, "love is blind," unsure of the concoction's true flavor, yet unable to put it down due to its addictive comfort.

it all began when i met someone who seemed to check all my proverbial boxes. initial interactions were like the perfect brewing process—controlled, predictable, and producing a seemingly flawless result. yet, as time unfolded, i discovered that love, much like coffee, could have undertones hidden beneath surface sweetness. our partnership evolved, teeming with the robust aroma of companionship and understanding, yet it simultaneously harbored a bitter aftertaste of misunderstandings and unmet expectations. was it just me, or do such intricacies define all relationships, subtly reminding us of the inherent unpredictability in love's recipe?

what perplexed me most was the realization that we were both viewing our union through our own distinctive lenses; this divergence was not inherently detrimental, but it introduced a dynamic of occasional blurred perceptions. for instance, our discussions on future aspirations sometimes felt like interpreting a piece of modern art; each of us saw it differently, unable to decipher which perspective was more authentic or perhaps they were both justifiable. isn't it fascinating how two people can be bound together by love, yet interpret their shared journey in uniquely independent ways, leaving one to wonder if the true essence of a relationship can ever be fully defined?

in retrospect, maybe love is meant to be a blend of contrasting notes; like a symphony of espresso shots mingling with milk, creating an experience that demands an open mind and tolerance. perhaps it isn't about seeking a perfectly balanced cup, but rather appreciating the complexity that comes with each sip. after all, each relationship is uniquely brewed, presenting its own version of 'love is blind cups,' leading us into exploring relationships not with absolute clarity but with curiosity and acceptance. might this be the secret ingredient to enduring love, embracing imperfection with an appreciation for its distinct flavor?

Some days feel like breaking,

Like the sky’s too wide to hold.

Like every effort’s wasted,

And your fire’s just running cold.

But broken isn’t ending—

It’s a shape that still survives.

The cracks just let the light in,

Proof that hurt can still hold life.

You are not your quiet failures,

Not the things they didn’t see.

You are the breath that kept on breathing,

When you thought you’d ceased to be.

The world may never thank you

For the battles fought alone—

But strength is built in silence,

And you’ve made that fight your own.

So rest, not in surrender,

But in kindness, deep and true.

Because even in the hurting,

There’s a brave heart beating: you

I don't know what it is about rejection that can make a 38-year-old man feel like a teenager all over again, standing awkwardly at a high school dance. After spending over a decade in a long-term relationship, I was thrown back into the dating game, a game that's changed so drastically with apps and swipes and all sorts of nonsense. Now, here I am, navigating through profiles like some washed-up AI in the wrong year. And let me tell you something: it sucks harder than a vacuum cleaner on steroids; constantly being told "no" by someone who doesn't know you from a picture and a couple of sentences.

Look, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I’m getting rejected left, right, and center. It's as if each time I get a "Sorry, not interested" or "You're not the one," it chips away at my spirit, introducing doubt where there was confidence. It feels like being told you're not even worth the sniff test. Hell, I don't know when dating apps became so brutal. Are people really so quick to dismiss a possibility just because of a minor discrepancy in their perceived compatibility score? What's happened to taking a leap of faith or at least stepping outside their comfort zone for a hot minute? It's a digital slap in the face every time I think I'm making progress.

I've started to seriously question the effectiveness of these so-called "matching algorithms." Are they designed to create love or turn us into anti-social hermits with shattered egos? Just last week, I matched with someone whose profile screamed "let's make it happen." We exchanged polite messages, flirted here and there, and just when I thought a physical date was in sight, BAM! Ghosted. It’s like they introduced a new feature: "Just testing your commitment level by vanishing into thin air. Thanks for playing!" Is this part of the user experience? Each rejection is recorded as another tick mark on my personal scoreboard of failures.

Who thought clicking 'unmatched' or not responding became the norm of humane interaction? When did everyone become so shallow that they can't even afford the decency of a basic conversation? I wonder if I've become too cynical, but honestly, it doesn’t feel like a negative nancy outlook when the evidence stacks up. How does one handle such an onslaught of rejection? My instinct tells me to keep trying, just like the way you'd keep buffing out scratches on a prized car. Or do you just stop and hope that one day you won't look like "damaged goods" rolling down the highway of love?

When the cycle seems never-ending, I guess all that's left is to remember to keep going. We can't let these digital road bumps define who we are at 38 – or 58 or 18. Maybe it's about learning to be content with who you are, rather than letting the swipe-right culture dictate your worth. Is it harsh to advocate for a reality check that reminds us of core values instead of superficial swipes? I'm not usually an advice guy, but if rejection is weighing you down, maybe it's your signal to take a short break, realign yourself, take a deep breath, and come back rejuvenated. So, how do you handle rejection? Maybe we just keep figuring it out.

I’ve always known I liked girls, (I’m a female), but I don’t think I’ve ever been IN LOVE with a girl. That was until I met my best friend. There’s something about her that captivates me in a way I can’t explain, and I can tell it’s not just in a platonic light. Sometimes I get the urge to just touch her, kiss her, be as close to her as possible. I’m typically not a clingy or even remotely touchy friend. I’m only like that in relationships. Speaking of, I have a boyfriend…and she has a girlfriend (sort of)…which makes the entire situation 1000x worse. I feel so guilty because I love my boyfriend and he treats me so good. I’ve been with him for 2 years and it’s the most healthy and fulfilling relationship I’ve ever been in, but I can’t help that I feel this way. I’ve tried to suppress it and it feels like the harder I try the worse it gets. Like I said before, she has a girlfriend that she’s also been with for a while (although they’re currently broken up but likely getting back together because they still talk). There’s this dull ache I feel when she talks about her girlfriend, but I know she loves her dearly and I would never want to ruin that. I would also never want to ruin our friendship because she’s an AMAZING friend. It just haunts me every day. I needed to get it off of my chest because I’m too embarrassed to tell a friend. Also, the more I think about the fact that I do have feelings for her, the more I actually want to and feel this extreme urge to explore my sexuality more, because I’ve never actually been with or done anything with a female, and I’ve always wanted to. What do I do? Someone please give me some sort of advice. Thank you.

Why can't I cry anymore? It's weird, you know? I'm 23, and I remember a time when tears came so easily. Watching a sad movie or hearing someone's heartbreak used to make me tear up like a fountain. But now? Nada. Zero. Zilch. It's like my tear ducts closed up shop and went on permanent vacation. "What's the deal?" I keep asking myself. I mean, letting it all out with a good cry used to feel so liberating. Now, it feels like there's this emotional block keeping everything bottled up. Can anyone else relate to this weird sensation?

It's not like I'm super tough or have had some life-changing epiphany. I'm still the same old me, navigating through the ups and downs of life. So why the emotional drought? 😕 I'm starting to wonder if it's just this weird phase or maybe stress-related. Everyone's always like, "Be tough, be strong," and I guess I've taken it to heart a bit too much. But when I think about it, aren't tears part of what makes us human? Crying shouldn't be seen as a sign of weakness; it's a natural response; and I've kind of forgotten that. I remember someone saying that sometimes holding it together means falling apart; I guess maybe there's some truth to that?

It's not like life's a drag or anything, trust me! I still have plenty of good vibes and moments, but without the tears, it's like losing a part of expressing myself. I'm hopeful that this is just a temporary thing. Maybe one day soon, I'll watch a sappy rom-com, and the emotions will flood back, and I'll be ready with a box of tissues, crying my heart out at every plot twist. So, if anyone else has gone through this "tearless" phase, how'd you get your emotional faucet running again? Because seriously, it's about time to let those tears flow again, right?

hey there, just wanted to spill my heart a bit, if that's alright. i'm 51, lost my husband and my son in a car crash. life's just feeling empty and pointless right now. ever felt like that? it's like every day is a struggle to get out of bed. they were everything, my love, my life, my rock. i feel like i'm just floating through the days, you know? trying to keep it together, but it's tough, really tough. it's like i'm watching my life from the sidelines and not really living it. i'm trying to hang in there, but sometimes, i just don't want to live anymore. do you ever feel like you're screaming inside and no one's hearing you? it's like a big hole inside my heart and no matter what i do, i can't fill it.

i try to be strong, but i'm honestly just really tired. tired of crying alone, tired of pretending i'm okay. i miss them so much it physically hurts. ever feel that way? folks say it gets better with time, but it's hard to believe right now. can't even honestly remember what happiness feels like. i just keep asking, what's the point of all this? i'm not bitter, just numb. i do try to focus on small things, like a cup of coffee in the morning or a good book, trying to find a spark of joy. anyway, thanks for reading this. i know folks have it tougher, and i'm trying to keep my chin up. just felt like sharing, maybe you can relate or share a kind word...

so i’m 28, and i’m sitting here wondering if it’s worth it to get back with my ex. she’s still out there, waiting for me to decide, and i’m stuck in this mess of my own making. i left her a while ago because of the pressure from my parents; they never really liked her. it wasn’t about her as a person—they just couldn’t get past the fact that we have different religious beliefs. it got ugly, and i said things i didn’t mean, things that were fueled by frustration and by the walls closing in around me. and now, i can’t help but think i might’ve thrown away something real.

it’s not like i haven’t tried to move on. i’ve dated a bit, met new people, but no one’s quite clicked the way she did. she’s the one i kept comparing them to, the one who made me feel like i wasn’t alone in the chaos of the world. when we were together, it felt like we were fighting the same fight, you know? like we had each other’s backs no matter what. but then, that fight turned inward, and it wasn’t just about us against the world—it was me against her, me against my family, me against myself. “if you can’t make peace within your own family, how can you expect to find it outside?” that’s what my dad said. it hit hard.

now i’m torn. should i just swallow my pride and reach out to her? i know she still wants to be with me; she’s made that clear in the few awkward texts we’ve exchanged. but part of me wonders if it’s just nostalgia talking. what if we get back together, and the same problems resurface? the arguments, the tension with my parents, the religious differences—they didn’t disappear just because we broke up. they’re still there, waiting like landmines. can love really be enough to overcome all that? or am i just romanticizing what we had because i’m lonely and regretful?

and then there’s her. she deserves better than someone who’s constantly second-guessing his decisions, someone who can’t even stand up to his own parents. if i go back to her, i need to be sure, not just about my feelings but about my readiness to fight for us. i owe her that much. “you can’t build a future on a foundation of doubt,” my brother said once. maybe he’s right. maybe i should let her go and focus on figuring myself out. or maybe, just maybe, we both deserve a second chance. what do you think? am i being a fool, or should i follow my heart this time? 🫤

so here's the thing, i'm 34 and just found out my partner cheated on me, which, as you can imagine, is kind of like being hit by a psychological freight train...

one moment you're cruising along, thinking your relationship's snug and secure, and the next, boom, everything you thought you knew is flipped on its head. now, i'm trying to figure out how to stop overthinking all of this. is that even possible? i mean, how do you shut off your brain when it's on a mental hamster wheel of betrayal and doubt? the byproducts of this whole ordeal are the constant reruns of past interactions, analyzing every look, word, and action, wondering if things were ever real or just some cruel joke. it sneaks into your thought patterns like malware, disrupting your everyday operations, making simple tasks feel like defusing a bomb. questions like, was it something i did? was there a sign i missed? keep me glued to this self-analysis, where i'm both the therapist and the patient. efficiently unpacking these instances seems rational, yet it feels emotionally exhausting. this brings me to strategies, like cognitive reframing or maybe just trying to distract myself with hobbies, but is that enough? maintaining emotional equilibrium feels like trying to balance on a tightrope with your eyes closed. it’s vital to test emotional boundaries, acknowledge the feelings, but decide not to let what transpired dominate every thought or decision. letting go is something people throw around like confetti, decorating conversations as if it's an easy step, but those who've been there know it's no picnic. trust is a delicate ecosystem and once disrupted, rebuilding feels daunting. but can this process of navigating post-betrayal emotions ultimately lead to personal growth? or does it just leave you with emotional scar tissue? strategizing how to restore or even redefine psychological self-reliance amidst this emotional upheaval is essential. sometimes i catch myself thinking if forgiveness happens naturally, or should it be a deliberate choice, like signing a mental peace treaty? this journey is a personal labyrinth, unique to each individual, yet relatable on a universal level. what's the protocol? allow some grief, sprinkle in a dash of self-care, and perhaps a generous dollop of patience, right? navigating through this emotional multi-layer shouldn’t be a solo expedition. it hit me that seeking seasoned guides like therapists can dissect complex post-cheating neurology into manageable parts. having a non-judgmental space to unload cognitive debris may not erase the past, but it might clarify the present. it's incredible how interconnected emotions and intertwined experiences are; yet there's hope in slowly disentangling them without making them the defining narrative. maybe resilience can sprout from this ordeal, or maybe not. what do you think? through it all, maintaining a nuanced view on relationships, understanding their imperfections, enterprises, and sometimes failures, might just be the grounding element needed in this intricate chaos. is there a shortfall in just living and letting each day unravel? 🍀

I want to let go of him. I’ve found myself looking to others and gaining my spark back again. But I find myself thinking about him moving on from me, and it upsets me. He doesn’t seem to appreciate all I’ve done for him and my friendship. Always looking elsewhere. And yet I feel so attached still. How do you let go of smtg when your past self really doesn’t want to let go?

It’s not even like I woke up one morning and thought that... but yeah, I don't really know who I am anymore right now... It was a slow, agonizing realization, one that gnawed at the edges of my mind every damn day, like a relentless parasite. I’ve given up so much of myself for this relationship. My personality, my interests, my humor, my own fucking preferences. I remember how I used to laugh at stupid things, how I loved blasting heavy metal in the car and feeling the bass rumble through my chest. Now, I sit there in silence, pretending to enjoy his godawful indie playlists because, apparently, that's what "we" do. Do you see the irony? I don’t even know who I am because I’ve been eroded, worn down like some fucking rock in a stream. One little compromise at a time, I traded myself for this empty façade of “us.” But what about me?

I don’t even recognize my face in the mirror anymore. I used to wear bold makeup, vivid colors that made me feel fierce and powerful. Now, it’s all muted tones, subtle pinks, and nudes. Why? Because he said it was more “natural.” Natural? Who gives a shit? I used to stand up for myself, used to call people out on their bullshit, but now I find myself swallowing my anger like it’s some bitter pill I have to take just to keep the peace. I hate myself for it. I hate that I’ve become this quiet, compliant version of myself, a woman I’d probably roll my eyes at if I met her. And the worst part? He probably thinks I’m “happy” like this. Well, fuck that. I’m not happy. I’m trapped in a persona I created to survive this relationship, and I’m suffocating in it. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to claw my way back to who I was. I picked up my guitar again, the one I used to play every day before this relationship turned my world into a grayscale. But the strings felt foreign under my fingers. I couldn’t even remember the chords to my favorite song. It was like trying to speak a language I used to be fluent in but had completely forgotten. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? To lose not just your interests but the muscle memory of who you used to be? It’s like my brain was reprogrammed, overwritten by his preferences, his needs, his fucking whims. And the scary thing is, I let it happen. Bit by bit, I chipped away at myself until there was nothing left but a hollow echo of the woman I used to be. And he didn’t even notice, or worse, he noticed and liked it.

Sometimes, I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck I’m doing. Who am I? Am I even a person anymore, or just some prop in his perfectly curated life? I fantasize about walking out the door, slamming it behind me, and reclaiming my fucking soul. But then I think about the logistics—where would I go, what would I do, how would I even start over? I feel like a ghost, haunting a life I never agreed to live, and I don’t know how to escape. I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t even want advice. I just want to scream into the void: I don’t know who I am anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if I scream loud enough, the real me might hear it and claw her way back. Or maybe she’s already gone. Who knows? 🖕

As an insecure 15 year old girl, I am very confused rn or maybe just in denial.

There was a guy that I met online and he lovebombed me. He was weird and perverted but I didn't care because he expressed that he wanted me.

I don't think all of this anger and sadness that I'm feeling rn is because of him but because of myself. I didn't like him romantically but I kept talking to him because he fed my ego... he made me feel wanted.

Ig I want to date especially when prom is coming up this year but I have a delusional fantasy that someone sweet and kind will just suddenly pop up and like me like those corny romcoms.

My head keeps on telling me that I'm not good enough to have someone want me. That I'm too ugly and uninteresting to even pique someone's interest. (I mean a part of me thinks I'm good looking, my friends assures me and people online too but I just can't trust it because you know!? Would you actually tell your ugly friend that their ugly?? ) ( Irl people don't look at me for my looks but in socmed they do)

I hate how I have my hopes up when someone even just looks at me for a sec.

I do get stares when I go out, I mean duh!! it's normal because humans have eyes so they obviously will use it. But I'm just curious on what type of stare it was... Like a stare that I look pretty or a stare that I have something on face.

I'm going to share an emberassing thing that sometimes when I accidentally get stolen glances from a guy his girlfriend shows up ughh so emberassing!! Ik I shouldn't hate myself for it but!!

Any advice? Or maybe people who also relate 🥹

so I've been dating this awesome girl for about three months now and everything is freaking great. Like, honestly, I've never been this happy. But here's the catch - my parents don't have a clue that I'm into girls. Yup, I'm a lesbian, and trust me, coming out to your folks ain't a walk in the park. I'm 19, so I guess it's high time I spill the beans, right? But seriously, how do you even approach this whole "hey mom, dad, I'm lesbian" chat without having a mini heart attack? They're pretty chill folks but still, the fear is real.

I mean, we all know how these conversations usually go down. It's not like I'm gonna bust out guitar and sing "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross. It's more like an intense, awkward movie scene where everyone freaks out. Plus, there's always crap like the possibility of them flipping their lids or, worse, looking at you with that disappointed expression that's scarier than hell. But here's the thing, you gotta own it, right? You're responsible for your happiness and whatnot. And if someone suggests shoving this truth under the rug, eff that noise; this is your life. So, do you wait for the perfect moment, or just rip the bandaid off and let the chips fall where they may?

About a year ago, I discovered my boyfriend—who isn’t diagnosed but shows strong signs of narcissism (his father is clinically diagnosed)—was masturbating to photos of his high school classmates and, heartbreakingly, to my best friend. I was devastated, but I ended up forgiving him. I was deep in trauma bonding, and he knew exactly how to manipulate me.

Throughout our relationship, the only thing that ever truly bothered me was his emotional unavailability. Besides that, he felt perfect to me—caring, attentive, and present in ways that made me believe he truly loved me. That illusion stayed intact until I stumbled across those messages in their group chat.

Last week, I caught him again. Same girls. A few new ones. Still my best friend. He’s obsessed with her style—she’s the complete opposite of me: gothic, bold, and conventionally sexy. I’m struggling right now. I feel lost, broken, showing signs of depression, and I’m undergoing lab tests for a possible autoimmune disorder.

Here’s the twist—he has no idea that I know everything. I’ve decided to keep playing the game, feeding his ego because he thrives on admiration. I do everything he wants, all while preparing to shatter his illusion. In a week, I plan to confront him with the full truth. I know he’ll panic and try to chase after me, but I’ll make it clear: if he tries anything manipulative again, I’ll expose everything—his messages, the videos, the disgusting things he and his friends have said about unsuspecting girls—on Facebook and Instagram. When I first caught him I read that his friends were scared that I would also tell their girlfriends but I didn't.

I won’t lie, I still have feelings for him. Part of me still believes he cared, that maybe there were moments of real love in our 2.5-year relationship. But this has to end.

I don’t know—does this make me the villain for planning to call him out like this? I feel stupid even writing this. He wasn’t always bad… but now I can’t unsee the truth.

so, life took an unexpected turn recently. i'm a 54-year-old guy, and you'd think by now i've seen it all, right? but nope, life still surprises. my wife, the woman i thought was my partner through thick and thin, cheated on me. not just with anyone, but with my best friend. talk about a double whammy. i don't even know what hurts more, the betrayal or the fact that it came from someone so close. betrayal sucks, man. it really does. it's like having someone drive a stake through your heart and then just twisting it for good measure. ever been there?

i'm trying to figure out how to bounce back from this mess. you'd think at my age, i'd have the wisdom of experience to guide me, but every day feels like navigating a minefield. how do you rebuild trust when it's been obliterated? "time heals all wounds," they say. but let's be real, time can also make you dwell on stuff you wish you could forget. for now, i'm just taking it one step at a time. i leaned on some classic tunes dubbed "heartbreak anthems" and found a shred of solace in them. funny how music can sometimes be the only thing that understands you. oh well, i digress.

it’s a wild ride. i'm not sure where i'll end up, but isn't that part of the journey? i've read countless self-help articles, and some talk about forgiveness and moving on. i'm not sure i'm there yet. what does forgiveness even look like in this scenario? does it mean being okay with what happened, or is it more about finding peace in your own head? i've made a point of not letting bitterness consume me, though. staying hopeful, you know? it’s like that quote i once saw: "holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." ain't that the truth?

going through this ordeal with a positive lens is a conscious choice; after all, life's too short to wallow in negativity. i've decided to focus on what i can control. i started picking up old hobbies, keeping busy. there's something therapeutic about diving into activities that remind you who you are beyond the hurt. maybe someone reading this can relate. does getting back to a personal hobby ring a bell for anyone? hope it does. having little wins each day gives you something to look forward to. also, talking to a therapist has been a game-changer for me. it's nice to have someone just listen.

so, that's where i'm at right now. i'm trying to piece it all together. sure, it's not easy, but nothing worth having ever is, right? the affair recovery is more about healing than anything else. my story ain't unique, and i know there's a bunch of people out there in the same boat. if you're one of them, hang in there. life's a rollercoaster packed with ups and downs, but the ride's worth it. stay strong and keep moving forward; tomorrow's got to be better. and hey, if you feel like sharing your story too, drop a line. sometimes, it's easier to heal together...