Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 12

I want friends so badly, it drives me insane. I have 3 friends but I only consider one to be an actual friend, because the others are assholes. I can’t hang out with my friend often because they live about 30 minutes from me and they go to school while I’m homeschooled. I have bad anxiety so I’m not good at talking to people at all unless I know them, It’s so bad that I can’t even talk to people online to try and make friends because I get too scared and worried. I want to make more friends that live close by so I can hang out more often and just have someone to go out with.

I want to go out more and get out of the house, but I don’t go out alone because of my own experiences with creepy men and pedophiles. It’s not that I want some just to have with me, but I want someone who I can connect deeply with bf not have to think about how and when to drive 30 mins to get there or whatever.

I want to make friends in my area, but everyone my age in my area are just assholes, which was one of the reasons I went into homeschool other than anxiety.

I have this deep feeling inside me like I just want to be held and loved, just to be with someone and feel safe and cared about with. I don’t know if I’m ready to get into another relationship yet since I just got out of a year long distance relationship about a month ago. I just crave touch and affection, but also that level of friendship where I’m comfortable enough to be myself.

I always get jealous seeing people out with friend groups and talking about their friend groups, I know how fun it is to be in friendgroups since I used to be in one a few years ago. I want that feeling again. I don’t know how to explain it but I just feel lonely.

Sure, I have my family, but they just make me feel more alone. My grandma always talks about how I barely have friends and need more, when I’m upset bc my friend did something my dad just tells me everyone is assholes and I need to learn that, my little sister makes fun of me for barely having friends. I just can’t handle it anymore. I’ve thought about suicide and running away, but it wouldn’t help.

For years I have just been wanting that feeling that I know I’m safe with someone for who I am and that I’m loved

I keep replaying the moment in my head—when i told her i wanted a divorce. after twenty years of marriage, saying those words felt like ripping out part of myself, but staying had become a different kind of slow death. she’s not well, her health is fragile, and that’s what makes it all so much harder. i’m not heartless. i still care. but i was living with someone who chipped away at my dignity for years. disrespect doesn’t show up all at once; it creeps in slowly. a condescending remark here, a dismissive gesture there, and before you know it, you’re invisible in your own life. i tried. really. therapy, talks, compromises that only I kept. and when i finally realized that no amount of loyalty would bring back the man i used to be, i chose to leave. but how do you stop the guilt when someone you leave behind is struggling physically? it’s not a movie with a clean ending, it’s more like walking out of a burning house that still has someone you once loved trapped inside. except that person won’t take your hand even when you reach back;

some people tell me, “you did the right thing,” others ask, “how could you leave her now?” and i honestly don’t have a satisfying answer to either. the guilt isn’t just about her condition—it’s about the idea that maybe i should’ve been stronger, more forgiving, more patient. maybe i failed some unspoken moral test. yet at the same time, don’t i have the right to protect myself too? we don’t talk about that enough—how emotional erosion can kill you just as surely as illness. i wasn’t trying to escape responsibility. i was trying to escape becoming a bitter, hollow version of myself. but now, every time someone says her name or i hear that she's been in and out of the doctor’s office again, it hits me like a sucker punch. do i reach out? would that help her—or just help me feel better? is guilt something that fades with time, or something you carry like a scar?

i guess what i really want to ask is—how do you know when you’ve done enough? when does choosing yourself stop feeling like abandonment? i read somewhere that “self-respect is the fruit of discipline,” and i’m trying to believe that choosing to walk away was an act of discipline, not betrayal. but most days, the line is blurry as hell. i keep showing up for work, paying the bills, calling our grown kids, pretending like everything is fine. but underneath, it’s like dragging a bag of wet cement everywhere i go. maybe guilt isn’t something to get rid of. maybe it’s just proof that you still give a damn. but it’d be nice if it didn’t show up every time i sit alone in a quiet room. so yeah—if you’ve ever had to choose between staying loyal and staying alive inside, how did you stop feeling like the villain in your own story?

just been feeling completely drained lately, man. can't find the motivation to even get out of bed in the morning. i'm 37, you know, supposed to have my life together by now. but here i am, stuck in a job that doesn't excite me anymore. it's like i've hit a wall, and i can't seem to find a way over it. just lost all passion for what i do. ever happened to you? one day you're all fired up, and then, bam, it's gone.

i thought i was doing well for myself, but now, it's just a grind. everyday feels the same, nothing exciting or new coming my way. i used to look forward to tackling new challenges at work, but now it's just a chore. maybe it's the same old routine, or perhaps i've simply outgrown it. not sure what it is exactly, but it keeps bugging me. sometimes i wonder if it's time for a change, like a complete 180, you know?

guess i've started questioning what i'm really doing with my life. what happened to setting big goals, having dreams? seems like they vanished somewhere along the line. it wasn't always like this, though. used to be this guy who couldn't wait to jump into new projects, excited about every little victory. but now? just work, eat, sleep, repeat. i know, sounds a bit overdramatic, but it's genuinely how i feel these days. ever feel stuck in a rut, not knowing where to turn next?

so, i've been contemplating. do i need a new job, or is it something deeper? maybe it's not just about work. could it be that i'm dealing with some personal stuff too? who knows. all i know is that feeling unmotivated is frustrating. it's like i've got this constant cloud hanging over me, and i can't seem to shake it off. i've tried different things, like picking up new hobbies, but nothing seems to stick. they say it's part of life, but is it really supposed to feel this draining?

honestly, just needed to get this off my chest. i'm not expecting any magic answers or anything, but sometimes, sharing helps. just wish i could rediscover that fire, that push to keep going. anyway, thanks for hearing me out. maybe tomorrow will be different, maybe not. but i'll keep trying, and who knows, maybe something will click eventually. 🕳️

I'm feeling really confused at this point. What are we? WHAT ARE WE??? We exchange pictures, give each other words of affirmation, and are open and vulnerable with one another. What's worse is that he sees me as a friend. I'm his FRIEND. I don't necessarily want to be his girlfriend or anything—I'm sure neither of us is ready for that—and he doesn't view me that way. But AGHHHHHH! You can't say, "You're like a flower that hasn't bloomed. You just haven't had room to reach your full potential," and then follow it up with, "Love you too, buddy 🤍🤍." The white hearts indicate platonic love. He does send me red hearts too, but not as often as the white ones. He told me that I had restored his faith in humanity since we met, and that he had stopped looking for someone else. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT.

I want to be in a relationship with him, but I'm not ready, and it's not possible for us right now. Yet, does he really not have feelings for me at all? He mentioned that he can't really feel romantic emotions. I understand that, but it feels contradictory given everything he just told me. Help please.

So around last December, me and a friend were sitting around a fire and the fire wouldn't stay lit so we decided to go to a bar. Well, I didn't feel like changing clothes bc I was comfortable, and it was cold asf. So I went out wearing my plush pajama pants and a Columbia fleece jacket which probably wasnt the best idea😂 well we got too the bar and we were playing pool and my buddy bumped into this dude behind us, and when he did it made the guy miss his shot. So the dude was not happy at all he turned around and pushed my buddy. So being the friend that I am I walked up and pushed this guy too the ground, and when I did one of his buddies came up behind me and uppercutted and grabbed and was squeezing tff out of my balls all at the same time. Until I went to my knees and when I got down to his level I remember him saying in my ear while still squeezing and twisting my balls "oh your boys are nice and fuzzy".Which i mean the pants are soft asff but there were so many people around. Including girls lol that heard that, and it was humiliating. I couldn't do anything but hold my inner thigh and hoped he let go. Well, it went on for about 30 more seconds. That's when i felt something pop and he let go. I instantly got to my feet, limping but walking. My buddy helped me walk out of the bar. I remember being sore and not being able to close my legs for a week. My gf still doesn't know about anything when she asked me what was wrong. I just told her I rolled my ankle bc she kept asking why I was limping. What would be a good way to tell her about this embarrassing situation?

So I’ve posted about dropping my ex entirely and now that I’ve actually been trying to detach myself and eventually drop him, I’m still finding it hard. He’s treated me horribly but I’ve felt myself pitying him and I felt bad for him because of the things I’ve learned. The guy he used to date and still has feelings for id bet, doesn’t even like him as a friend anymore. Me and him (we are friends) were talking about our mutual ex and he even told me that he wishes I got out of that situation earlier because he knows what he’s like. But something about him losing everyone he cares about, makes me feel bad bc he’s running to me. But I know that it’s out of loneliness, not because he cares about me. Before anyone says I should ask him and be more understanding and compassionate towards him, he has assaulted me, taken shit out on me for situations that weren’t my fault, talked shit about me and was dumb enough to expose it, and left me during one of the worst times of my life. And yet I’m struggling to take the final step and block him and remove him for good.

hi. I don't really want to vent to a friend nor family like my parents and my siblings(they're the closest family to me if I ever refer to family again just know I'm only referring to them) so I'm venting on here. I don't really want to vent to them because I don't want to burden them and I just don't want their advice or reassurance. I just want someone to understand what I'm feeling which I know my friends will but still.

here's why I feel like a horrible person

The thing about me is that I ALWAYS procrastinate until the last minute. It doesn't matter what it is. It's not like I think procrastinatig is cool, anything but that actually. I rather be a hardworking person but everything around me just feel so hard to resist. I feel like I SEEK dopamine 24/7. I barely study like I only study last minute and it feels horrible because I actually gets good grade. I feel like I don't deserve this good of a grade when I clearly see that others that get lower grade than me worked even harder. I know the grade thing will probably change soon and I will mess up one day and finally get something that matches my efforts. I actually happened to get to be a monitress which honestly I don't think people really think it's that big of a deal anymore but I really don't think I deserve it. At first, there was only me but then my class teacher convinced someone else to join. I think I got it because people felt pity for me, I'd definitely vote for the other girl if I wasn't one of the choices. She was hardworking, charismatic and very positive. Loud, cheerful and responsible, that's what a good monitress should be. I feel like the opposite to be honest, I volunteered just because I got a rush of confidence that I'm competent for it and I can improve myself if I were one but I was wrong. I'm such a irresponsible person. I've been late to school many times not because of medical issues but because I woke up late. Sometimes, when I accidentally do something wrong, I'd blame my family members (I mean not really blaming but like for example, "oh, because of 'smth', this happened") I just feel like nobody can rely on me because I'll always mess something up.

Also, I have super random mood swings. I feel like I get mood swings even more lately, and it's not like I want them. I mean who would want to be miserable. I get mad at the smallest shit ever like I'd be pissed if I knew somebody like me. For friends, I don't really act mad IN FRONT of them when they did something that piss me off because I don't want to seem like a horrible person so I just try to brush it off and not talk to them that much since I don't want to accidentally show that I'm mad. For family, I feel a bit more comfortable to express my frustration to because they can't just dump me one day you know. So most of the time, I'll just be acting like an asshole, acting frustrated with a high pitched voice telling them to stop annoying me or like just anything. I love my family so I want to treat them properly but I can't. Fyi, I have good moments with my family I just act like this sometimes.

One more thing, I'm like super shy. I've experienced countless interactions that just felt super embarrassing for me to even think off because they were just horrible. Yesterday, I had a french speaking exam(finals). I tried to convince myself everything would be fine but it was absolutely horrible. I couldn't understand some of the questions and I had the dumbest grammar mistake I could've ever made. After I finished, the teacher told me to call the other person so I did. I didn't want the teachers to notice my tears so I lowered my head then walked out. Unexpectedly, one of the teacher walked into the room and noticed me crying so she comforted me which was nice but didn't really help much.(or did it I'm not sure myself) One thing that really pissed me off was that one of the teacher had a high expectation for me. He even said he'll count on me. The only thing I can think of him right now is that he had an unrealistic expectation for me because I don't only suck at french speaking. I suck at everything related to speaking in general. Some of my friends texted me if I was fine and honestly I don't know. After I went home, I immediately got online and asked an online best friend to game. We talked and stuff. I did feel better afterwards.

I'll be connecting that accident to another quality I have. I CAN'T THINK CRITICISM AT ALL. I mean I knew I did something wrong but then I'll just say ok in a natural tone then crash out(be mad and cry ugly) by myself later. I actually appreciate comments about improving myself but I just cringe every time I read them. My English teacher would always put comments for writings and honestly I can't read them at all but I need to do I just silently cringe while looking at the comments. A part of me probably thinks I'm better than everyone which I don't think so. (this is so contradictory) Like I'm just so overly sensitive. It's even annoying me.

Probably the last point I'll mention here today, I honestly can't see why anyone would want to be friends with me. When I ask my friends why do they want to be friends with me, they often reply with a you're kind. I don't see it at all after all that points I've made do you, yes you the reader actually think I'm kind?. Sure, I've done many things for my friends but that's just basic courtesy compared to things they've done for me. I even reply to my friends text late sometimes just because I don't have the energy to text them.

By the way, I don't know why I do these or feel like this because I don't think I grew up with a abusive household or anything. I didn't grow up with the best parents ever but I think they're good compared to others. I didn't get bullied. I have supportive friends. but honestly I don't really think I have a lot of friends I mean like my friends would help but I'm probably not their no.1 choice if you know what I mean. It's like I'm left alone. I don't know why I'm SUPER shy. I've never asked to be shy, I want to be confident. I don't think I have social anxiety or anything because I can interact with my friends just fine. I don't want to exaggerate anything because I know they are billions of people suffering more than I'll ever be so yeah. This is the end of my rant, pretty long but I got it off my chest.

i fucking give up bro, everyday im called ugly, when i moved away from a shit country i lived in where ig ot choked and heavily physically bullied and r@ped i thought i escaped, i didn't. verbal bullying, i hate myself. got myself a ED cause of thos fuckers. i even stopped doing SH n now its started again, i got r@ped again of course. fuck this fucking bullshit. i know im ugly, i know im dumb. those fucking narcissists. i genuilny give up. im failing everything, my dads sick, my moms depressed and hates me, same w my dad, my friends hate me and i try to be what they want me to be, and i do that but still they hate me. im brown, im the odd one out, imt he ugliest. god i hate ts. what i've been through. i thought if ucking escaped but no god just hates me doesnt he. whatever. bye. i havent slept i nfucking days. iahte insomnia. i hate people.

I never thought I’d be one of those women who stayed. You know the type—rational, self-aware, educated, and yet still somehow stuck between what they should do and what they feel. When I found out my boyfriend had cheated on me, the emotional whiplash was debilitating. I remember staring at his face while he denied everything, even as the proof was right there, practically screaming from the screen. Later, he admitted to more than just the affair: he'd lied about past relationships, finances, even seemingly mundane details like where he was on certain weekends. Those small lies somehow hurt more than the big one. I kept wondering, “Was anything real?” He told me he lied because he didn’t want to lose me—ironic, considering the lies are the reason I can’t look at him the same. People talk about “rebuilding trust” like it’s some Ikea bookshelf. Just tighten a few screws, follow the instructions, and voilà. but trust isn’t a piece of furniture; it’s this fragile, complex web that once broken, doesn’t reassemble so neatly. And when it’s been shattered more than once, even the idea of rebuilding feels insulting.

There’s also this paradox no one talks about: in order to rebuild trust, you have to offer vulnerability—the very thing that got you hurt in the first place. I’ve asked myself if I even want to trust him again. Do I want to open myself up to more manipulation, or am I just addicted to the comfort of familiarity? There are days when I almost convince myself it was just a mistake, a temporary lapse in judgment. Then I remember the months of gaslighting, the “you’re crazy” looks, the weaponized silence. My therapist calls it trauma bonding. It’s the cycle of abuse disguised as affection, and yes, it’s real. We’ve had endless conversations about boundaries, accountability, and what it means to earn back trust. He says all the right things now: that he’ll be transparent, that he understands why I question everything, that he wants to do the work. But how do you quantify “doing the work”? Is checking in regularly and sharing phone passwords enough? Or is it something deeper, more intangible? Sometimes I catch myself analyzing his tone, his pauses, the exact wording of his apologies. I’m exhausted by my own hypervigilance, and it makes me feel like I’m the one who’s broken.

The hardest part is that I haven’t left—yet. Part of me still believes in redemption, in growth, in the idea that people can change if they truly want to. But then I think, should the burden of his growth be placed on the ruins of my trust? The foundation is cracked; no matter how well you paint over it, the instability is still there. And I don’t want to live in a metaphorical house that could collapse any second. He keeps asking, “What can I do to prove it to you?” and I never know how to answer. Is it even my job to provide a checklist for redemption? Or is that another form of emotional labor I never signed up for? I’ve become someone I don’t recognize—calculated, cautious, and constantly second-guessing my instincts. I used to believe in open-hearted love, the kind where you dive in headfirst without checking the depth. now I keep one foot out of the water, scanning for sharks. Maybe you’ve been there too. If so, tell me—how do you unlearn distrust without betraying your own sense of self?

Do I want him, or do I simply just yearn for the feeling of being loved by somebody? Am I simply just bored, suddenly craving the attention of someone else while still having the full attention of him? I am a horrible person. I am undeserving of being loved; I do not have the capacity to be loved for anything but my measly little body. My frail feelings have me running in circles, eager to figure out... what is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I am undeserving of love. I see why nobody ever wishes to have me.

I'm struggling so much I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend of 1.5 years, and I have no idea at all if I still have romantic feelings for him. I always want the best for him, and I truly do want to see him succeed in life, but I just don't know if I love him anymore in that way. I've begged for months on end just for him to listen. to understand how I feel. He doesn't get it. He only wants to change when I'm beginning to slip from his grasp, and it's the worst feeling in the world. Only now that I'm starting to lose my care factor, he wants to fix the issue I've had for a YEAR. It feels so horrible. To add to that, my guy best friend is being really weird .. like oddly affectionate. It has me feeling ... confused? causing my struggle to worsen, even? And not only that, but he has been borderline encouraging me to leave my boyfriend.

I'm so confused .. lost, even. I don't know what to do with myself. It doesn't help I'm struggling with severe depression (5 years, ongoing).

You know, I've always been a little awkward when it comes to talking to people, and now that I've started my first job at 22, you'd think I'd have figured it out by now. But no, socializing at work is still a mountain I struggle to climb, primarily because of my autism. It's like trying to decipher a language that I'm not entirely sure I understand, yet everyone else seems to speak it fluently. I see my coworkers engrossed in conversations about weekend plans, sharing memes, or even just working through the lunch break together, and I can't help but feel like an outsider looking in. I genuinely want to be part of this camaraderie, to share a laugh over a coffee run or engage in small talk like it's second nature. But man, sometimes it just feels like an insurmountable hurdle. Have you ever tried to speak up in a meeting, only to overthink every word and end up saying nothing at all? That's me most days. I remember reading somewhere that "conversation is an art that can be learned," and I'm holding onto that hope like it's my lifeline; it's about baby steps, right?

Yet, beyond my apprehensions, I've had moments that give me a glimmer of hope, little anecdotes that remind me that I can do this. Just the other day, I saw an opportunity while we were in the break room. They were talking about a Netflix series I've actually seen—one of those rare moments where my nerdy interests intersect with more mainstream ones. So, I dove in, cracking a joke about a twist from the show, and to my surprise, they actually laughed—genuine laughter, not just the polite kind. It was one of those small victories that can make a guy's entire week. I mean, who'd have thought that my encyclopedic knowledge of a Netflix plot would become my inroad into a conversation? Still, I'm trying to find more of those moments, where I can contribute something that doesn't feel forced or rehearsed. It's all about finding that sweet spot between contribution and comfort without feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of social interaction. Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it to stress over fitting in when one of my favorite quotes by Maya Angelou is "If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude." Maybe that's a hint that I need to adapt my own viewpoint rather than stress over societal norms, you know?

suzy i never want to see you again. we used to shittalk so many people that you even started shit talking your gf, but a few weeks ago when i made a joke about her having messy hair you fucking changed up on me. now you cant go a conversation without sarcastic laughter and being a bitch. i ve only ever spoke to you because of your gf and her and my friend who you ungratefully sacked off after a week i just wish you wouldnt be such a massive bitch to everyone. ive tried getting into your interests but thats just got me called a creep and stalker like weve known eachother for a few years i thought i coul like what you like. youve even turned your gf (my friendd since primary school) against me i cant even speak to her without you interrupting me and changing the topic, or you dragging her away to talk to someone else

Hi, call me sumaya. i have been struggling with my mh since year7, my teachers dont listen to me and i feel like that no one likes me and there is no point to life, i have been cutting and cutting and i js feel like doing it even if im 1month clean. i js hate my life and i always get bullied and teachers always think i "i kick off" well no, i am at my breaking point and all of the teachers dont like me and i js hate me, my timeout pass got taken away and all my support is going down the drain. and my wellebing is all scenes when it isnt. if its other ppl they mollycoddle them and i js wanna be loved and have friends and leave that skl.. i wanna be alone./ i have no friends and no one likes me. i am a nobody.

It’s weird to even say this out loud, but I got a tattoo to cover my self-harm scars. And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. The whole idea started off as something empowering, like reclaiming my body, right? You know the line, “Your skin is your story”—some therapist threw that out years ago during one of my low points. It stuck. I thought maybe, just maybe, putting something beautiful over something so painful would help change the narrative. So I chose a design I’d doodled in a journal years ago—something abstract but meaningful, sort of a fractured mandala, each line connecting past and present. The artist was kind and didn't ask too many questions, just looked me in the eye and said, “We’ll make this a transformation piece.” That sounded nice. Better than what it really was: me trying to hide from myself in ink and pain management creams.

Now that it’s been a few weeks, I stare at it and feel conflicted. The tattoo is well done—technically clean, good contrast, smart shading—but the scars are still visible beneath it. Not physically, not if you’re just glancing. But I know they’re there. That skin holds memory like film holds shadows, and even the pigment can’t overwrite the fact that I hurt myself deliberately, over and over, for years. Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder who I’m trying to fool. Is this ink for healing, or just another form of concealment? It’s a question I keep circling, like a moth around a porchlight. I'm 38 now. Not a kid experimenting with identity. Not a teenager struggling with trauma she couldn’t name. A grown adult who still can't quite figure out what to do with all this leftover pain.

The part I didn’t expect was how other people would respond. Friends said things like “Wow, that’s powerful” or “It’s so meaningful,” like they were in on some secret spiritual moment. I smiled and nodded and said things like “Yeah, it represents growth,” but I never corrected them when they assumed it was just art for art’s sake. One coworker even said, “That’s dope, did it hurt?” and I just laughed and said “Not more than the stuff it’s covering.” He didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t want him to. The truth is, there's a whole subculture around tattooing over scars, and it's not always about covering things up—sometimes it's about honoring survival. But I’m not sure if I survived something, or if I just stalled it.

I know this might come across as ungrateful or overly cynical, especially since not everyone gets a second chance to rewrite their skin. But what if rewriting isn't enough? What if healing isn't about erasing the past but learning to live with it in broad daylight? Some days I think I did the right thing—turned something painful into something beautiful, like alchemy. Other days, I feel like I’ve just added another mask, one that requires constant touch-ups and explanation. I'm not embarrassed by the scars anymore, but I am tired of what they represent: all those years spent pretending I was fine, when I was really just holding myself together with caffeine and denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is—if you’re thinking about getting a self-harm tattoo, ask yourself why. Like really, why. Is it closure? Is it expression? Is it shame in disguise? Maybe it’s a mix of all those. I can’t tell you the right answer because I still don’t know mine. All I know is that ink fades slower than memory, and covering something up doesn’t always mean it’s healed. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe healing isn’t linear. But I do wish someone had told me that before I sat down in that studio, gripping the chair like it was gonna save me.

i hate that i still think about him every damn day. like seriously, what the actual hell is wrong with me?? it’s been almost a year now, and yet my brain still plays back the same damn memories like a broken-ass record. we broke up for good reasons—he was selfish, emotionally unavailable, and let’s be real, kinda manipulative—but here i am, stuck on this dude like he was the love of my damn life. i know better!! i tell myself all the time that it’s not love anymore, it’s just habit, it’s just comfort, blah blah blah, but none of that seems to help when i see something that reminds me of him and i instantly feel like shit. and what pisses me off the most is that he’s probably doing great, not even sparing me a single thought, while i’m out here spiraling over some random t-shirt he left at my place or that stupid playlist we used to drive around to. 😒

i’ve tried everything. blocking him didn’t help, just made me feel more pathetic because i still checked his socials through a fake account. going out with friends works... for like five minutes until someone mentions his name or something vaguely related and boom, my brain’s back in hell. even dated other guys and guess what? they all felt like filler characters in a story that’s already ended. like i was just going through the motions. one of them even told me i wasn’t really present and yeah, no shit dude. i’m trying but it’s like i’m stuck in emotional cement. and don’t get me wrong, i don’t miss how he made me feel like i was never enough or the stupid games he played when he was “too busy” to call. i miss the small, dumb shit like how he always brought me red bull without asking or how he said my name when he was half asleep. isn’t that just sick?? how can i know someone’s bad for me and still crave their attention like some love-starved idiot???

so yeah, tell me this—why the f*ck can’t i get over him?? is there some switch i forgot to flip? am i broken or just brainwashed from being treated like trash for so long that now i think it’s the norm? i try to analyze it, journal it, scream it into a pillow, and nothing changes. maybe i’m just terrified that no one else will get me the way he did... even if the “getting me” part came with a truckload of emotional damage. maybe it’s not really about him at all, maybe it’s about how i felt when i was with him—like i mattered, like someone chose me, even if he dropped me just as quick. i don’t know. all i know is this mess inside my chest won’t go away and i’m tired of pretending like i’m fine. if you’ve been through this—how the hell did you finally let go??? 💔