Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Recently, I accidentally upset a colleague at work. On Tuesday, they sent me an email on Wednesday saying I made them feel unsafe due to something that triggered them. I took note of the email and decided to give them some space, still being friendly but avoiding direct interaction to not make them uncomfortable. I also made sure to avoid the triggering topic whenever we interacted.

Unfortunately, my attempt to give them space backfired. On Thursday, I was called into a mediation meeting with some higher-ups and the concerned colleague. They asked why I hadn’t spoken to them directly about the email, thinking that my silence meant I was continuing the triggering behavior. I explained that I avoided direct contact to prevent appearing hostile, as they said they felt unsafe. They understood my reasoning, and we talked things out during mediation. However, on Friday, they took a mental health day because they still felt uneasy around me. I completely understand and feel awful for accidentally triggering them. I never want to make anyone feel unsafe, and I’ll continue to avoid the topic and be a friendly colleague in the future.

Here’s my dilemma: I was supposed to join a weekly group hangout with this colleague outside of work. Now, I’m uncomfortable doing so. Given they feel unsafe around me, I don’t want to risk triggering them again, which could lead to more work issues. My other coworkers think I’m being an asshole for not wanting to hang out outside of work and are pressuring me to continue as planned. I feel like my response is reasonable, but now I’m not sure. Am I wrong?

How would this situation play out if I was on a reality show? The drama and tension could be even more intense, with cameras capturing every interaction and the pressure to handle things perfectly. How would viewers react to my actions and decisions? Would they see me as considerate or avoiding conflict?

I'm usually knee-deep in work from a job that demands almost everything from me, and my partner, Alex, is fully aware of how strenuous it can be. Not long ago, I decided that it was essential to establish clearer boundaries regarding my availability after work hours. Specifically, I made it a rule not to take work-related calls after 7 pm. Alex seemed to agree with this new arrangement at first, appreciating that we could spend more quality time together without interruptions from my work.

However, last night, things took a bizarre turn. Around 8:30 pm, as we were settling down for the evening, my boss called. Sticking to my new-found boundaries, I chose to ignore the call. But Alex, to my dismay, questioned why I wasn't answering. I explained that it was part of my effort to prevent work from overrunning my personal life. Without hesitating, Alex picked up my phone and answered the call himself, telling my boss that I was "too busy relaxing to talk." I was completely embarrassed! The tone in my boss's voice was clearly one of irritation when I ultimately had to take the phone. I ended up spending the next 30 minutes sorting out work issues, a situation exacerbated by Alex's remark which made it appear as though I was neglecting my duties.

After I hung up, I confronted Alex. I was livid and explained how inappropriate it was for him to intervene in my work matters. He just shrugged it off, suggesting I was overreacting and claiming that I shouldn't feel ashamed for enforcing my boundaries around work. This whole ordeal has left me second-guessing both my boundary-setting and his understanding of it. Am I overreacting, or was his interference out of line?

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show. The drama would certainly amplify, with cameras capturing every moment of the exchange and potentially millions of viewers judging the dynamics of our relationship. Viewers might side with me for trying to establish work-life balance, or they could sympathize with Alex, perceiving him as supporting a more relaxed approach. The court of public opinion could dramatically sway in either direction, affecting not just perceptions but our relationship dynamics after being exposed to widespread scrutiny.

Was my partner's action on my work call justified?

It took place yesterday, so I since calmed down. This is what I wrote yesterday in the comments of my story so that I could update y'all on this situation. I wish there was an update feature so that we can update the stories directly ^^'

I did my best to tell the story as accurately as I could, despite how emotional I was. If it ends up not making sense, I'm sorry.

Thank you to the people who took the time to read the first part of my story. I was already trying to heal myself on my own from my issues since I was young, but the comments I got made me realize that my comfort matters too. I have a habit of letting things stay as is because I don't want to bother anyone with my needs in fear of being selfish or conceited, but I know this is harmful to me. Thank you guys for helping me take a step to regaining my space.

It's daytime and today, my mom somehow decided to stay in my room to eat her breakfast while I was chilling in my room on my computer, which made me a bit uncomfortable. My stepdad tried to propose her to go back in her room since he's not using it anymore, but she refused, and that was it. Even if she was done with her breakfast, she stayed. I tried to endure it, but the discomfort kept being there, so I eventually tried to tell her get out of my room politely and calmly a few times. She kept refusing. It came to a point where she told me she was going to get mad if I continued to ask her. We ended up getting into an argument, with her calling me selfish and blowing up at me and me crying and blowing up at her as a result to me not feeling heard. I tried explaining to her that it's been since my teenage years that I let her use my room with me to sleep and that I just want the room for myself, at least for the day. I even pleaded and everything. I now know it's not the best way to try to communicate my feelings, but in the moment, that was the best way I had to try to get my point across, but she didn't take it well. She took it as me kicking her out of my room, and because she's paying for the roof, she won't get out.

With the commotion, my stepdad checked out what was going on, and with me screaming, I tried to explain to him what was going on. I didn't think I'd hear him say it, but he said that he understood where I was coming from and that I really just wanted privacy. (I'm surprised because I heard him saying, while he was on the phone with one of his brothers, that he hugged one of his relatives on purpose because they were uncomfortable with his presence). However, my mom kept calling me selfish for it. I screamed back at her as a response, again, because I didn't feel heard. She told me that she would get out if I apologized to her for telling her to get out of my room, and I retorted that she should apologize for calling me selfish. My stepdad tried to reason with me, saying that she surely understands, that she didn't call me selfish in bad faith, that she's going to get out, but to me, that wasn't the case. The only reason that she got out was because I mentioned how she was using my deodorant. I was trying to prove that this is not the only instance of her calling me selfish because of me trying to calmy tell her to not do something. The arguing kept going to the point that my stepdad had to get out. To do something else or to get out of the conflict, I don't know, but with the screaming matches that I was having with my mom, I understood.

We kept arguing a bit more, and I eventually tried to tell her again to please get out of my room. In her own words, she wouldn't, because she doesn't take orders from me. And she didn't. For at least 10 or 20 minutes, I was on my bed crying with my mom sitting next to me. In that period of time, I texted my stepdad "I told you, she wouldn't listen, she didn't get out". He eventually came in, saying that he won't go back to his words and that he would be sleeping on the couch and that my mom would sleep in her room. My mom tried to interrupt him by the way, but he kept talking and didn't let her get a word in while he was saying that.

Now she's out of my room, but yeah. To summerize, I now have my room to myself, but in the process, my mom yelled at me, and I said some hurtful things too because I was frustrated I didn't feel heard by her. With how emotional I got (still am), maybe I am part of the problem in this household.

So yeah, I am here because my head is kind of noisy and I don’t really know where else to put this. I have a new girlfriend now, it has been like two months, which is not super long but not nothing either, you know. She is nice, really kind, and honestly way more patient than I probably deserve. But here is the thing that keeps poking me in the brain at random times, usually late at night when I should be sleeping. I still have photos of my ex on my phone. Not printed or framed or anything dramatic, just old pics sitting there in my camera roll, mixed in with screenshots and food photos and dumb memes. I don’t even look at them on purpose, but sometimes I scroll too far back and boom, there we are, smiling like everything was fine. It makes my stomach drop a little. I am not missing her exactly, I think, but I am also not fully sure. It feels rude to my current girlfriend, even though she has no idea. I keep telling myself they are just memories, like old clothes you forgot in a drawer. But then I think, is that just an excuse to avoid doing something uncomfortable?

I try to be reasonable about it, like a normal adult, but I kind of fail at that a lot. My ex and I were together for years, and deleting those photos feels like erasing a chunk of my life, even if that chunk ended badly and with a lot of awkward silence. Some of the photos are boring, like us on a couch, but others are from trips or random good days where the sun was out and we laughed for real. I know keeping them does not mean I want her back, but it also does not feel super clean either. My new girlfriend talks about honesty a lot, and I nod and agree, and then I feel a bit fake inside. I have not lied, but I have not told the full truth either. I once tried to delete the photos, like actually started selecting them, and my finger froze like I was about to touch a hot stove. I felt silly, like why is this so hard, they are just pixels. Then I stopped and went to make a sandwich instead. Very brave of me. I keep wondering if this makes me a bad boyfriend or just a human one.

I guess what I am really stuck on is whether deleting them is for her, or for me, or just to look like a good guy on paper. I do not want to hurt anyone, I really don’t, and I am trying to be polite to everyone involved, including past me. At the same time, I don’t want to drag old stuff into something new and possibly good. Sometimes I think I should delete them as a sign that I am moving forward, like closing a door gently instead of slamming it. Other times I think it is okay to keep them tucked away, not because I am holding on, but because life happened and it is okay to remember it quietly. I feel unsure most days, and I second guess myself a lot, which is kind of my brand at this point. So I am asking you, random kind reader, what would you do? Would you delete the photos out of respect, or keep them and trust yourself to not live in the past? Is there a right answer here, or am I just overthinking a very normal thing like I always do?

My friend seems to be less interested in spending time with me

Typing this out makes me feel a bit uneasy. I really adore my girlfriend, Laura. From her smile to her sense of humor, she's just amazing. We started dating back in college and now we're nearing our 30s (and yes, saying "almost 30" stings a bit).

Recently, I was invited to a birthday celebration by some new friends, who were eager to meet Laura since I always speak so highly of her.

On the day of the party, Laura looked stunning in stylish jeans and a charming crop top. I noticed she hadn’t put on any makeup, and casually asked if she planned to wear some. She reacted negatively, suggesting I was treating her like some kind of trophy, which was not my intention at all. Mind you, it’s not as though I ever insist on her wearing makeup. Whether we’re going out on dates or anywhere else, I’m not concerned about how she looks. However, she usually applies makeup when heading out with her friends.

Personally, if I were meeting my girlfriend's friends, I’d make an effort to look my best, just to give a good impression and sort of complement her. We've been together so long, we're practically family; I see her as an extension of myself and the other way around.

I do get that it’s not my place to dictate her choices in appearance. So, pondering over it, I can see how my question might have been out of line. Hit me with your thoughts,

Am I being unreasonable for having asked her about makeup?

Now, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show. Cameras rolling, capturing every nuance of the conversation and broadcasting my question to millions. The audience would probably be split. Some might empathize with my intentions, understanding the societal pressures of looking ‘perfect’ in social settings. Others might fiercely defend Laura’s right to present herself however she feels comfortable, criticizing me for placing undue importance on appearances. The episode would likely spark debate among viewers, making it a pivotal moment in the show.

So my long distance boyfriend and I have been together only for a few months. I’m his first girlfriend and he’s definitely been the best boyfriend I’ve had so far. We have pretty good communication and we’re both very open with each other. I know his friends for one. And one of the first friends I learned about was a girl named Katie. Now I don’t mind if he has friends who are girls, because I’d rather trust him than be suspicious of his every move. My mindset has always been that the truth will come out anyway so if he does cheat, I’ll learn at some point, I don’t need to go chasing after that information.

But that’s besides the point. Him and Katie have been friends for a long time. And I’ve heard some disturbing stuff about her. She’s said some pretty mean shit to hi, that are things he’s insecure and worried about in his life. She said that he was a bum and that he was throwing his life away, just because he took a gap year from college to figure out if that’s actually what he wanted to do. And when she learned about me and how we’re long distance, she was like dude wtf? Which was super off putting to me. She acts like such a hater to him. What makes this worse is that he even said that she reminds him of his dad, who he has had a lot of issues with. So that made me really concerned about this friendship. He even blocked her because she was grilling him for struggling to find a job after he got fired, and he said he couldn’t take feeling like he’s disappointing her. Mind you, she’s not even in college or has a job, but she’s on him for this stuff.

I don’t know if I should talk about it with him. I don’t like her and how she talks to him, it’s not right. He works so hard and he’s been doing better than she claims. She’s filling his head with doubts about his own capabilities, calling him mentally ill and that he needs serious help, when there’s nothing wrong with him. I’m worried about talking about this because she’s his friend but, I wish he’d set some boundaries on how she talks to him. I hated hearing say “what if she’s right and I’m throwing away my life and fucking it up by being myself?” That’s a horrible thing for a friend to say. Accountability doesn’t have to be so mean.! I just don’t know if I should tell him how I feel or not.

I went to my sigma's halftime show last night and lowk I could NOT stop looking at her, everything from the uniform to her performance was absolutely amazing. my friends lowk made fun of me but I feel foolish. I mean how did someone like me get to someone like her?

So it's 6 am and the 28 of August. And i'm feeling a bit meh and my head kinda of a mess. Soon It's gonna be my (online) Friend's birthday and i'd like to give a drawing/card but i haven't started yet. At the same i'm kinda thinking about what I can do to make this next year as decent as possible. Today i didn't actually get to study cause we went out and after i was exhausted. Thankfully i had cooked again before for dinner and had leftovers. :) (Still have some!) This summer i've been trying to kinda get better ig. The past year was probably one of the worst. And even the ones before were also pretty bad. I've been trying build good habits. Still am, but i'm not sure how progress i actually made. Mostly i've been trying to build easy cozy mornings since that was one of the parts of my day i struggled a lot with and i had a lot of anxiety. Also I think that if i can start the day ok the rest of the day might also be ok-ish. The rest of the day Is Still kind of a blur tbh. But i've been trying to study some material i struggled with last year and i'm halfway. Also there's some work for next year that I might be able to predict more or less and i'd like to start It to be ahead. Still i am kinda questioning if my efforts are really working. like what if i'm not getting better? What If It's not working? Or worse, what if It doesn't change anything? What if nothing of what I do in general ammounts to anything? Especially since i already ruined two years (school years specifically but almost 6 in general) because of mental health issues getting worse. what if It's already too late to fix anything? What if i permanently ruined everything? What If It gets bad again? Yeah during those years my grades weren't horrible, but i could've done so much better. (In general also, not just accademically) And honestly that did affect me a lot and made things even worse.

at 49 years old, i've arrived at a rather unceremonious realization: nothing makes me happy. it’s strange because society programs us with a checklist for happiness, doesn’t it? i climbed the corporate ladder, securing a lucrative position as a senior executive that one could only dream of. financial security was supposed to be synonymous with contentment, or so they said. but every payday, every bonus, and every dollar accumulated in my bank account seemed to lose its luster within days. i attended countless seminars and read numerous self-help books yet the existential void within me remained unfilled. when i banked my first six-figure check, i briefly basked in what i assumed was joy. but the novelty of a swollen account balance wore off faster than i care to admit.

I figured maybe i needed something more soulful, like marriage and a family. i received talk after talk about how a loving husband and a couple of kids would complete me; “your own personal cheerleaders in this rat race!” my mother constantly reminded me. dating was a nightmare coated in fake smiles and dreadful first-date questions, which i obliged to endure. against all odds, i did marry. i am married. yet even within the once-romantic confines of what was supposed to be ‘happily ever after', i often feel as though I'm in a partnership devoid of passion and genuine connection. this supposed 'holy grail' of familial bliss feels more like treading water than anything else.

having a home with a white picket fence painted the picture of the quintessential american dream i bought into it: lock, stock, and barrel. talk about a classic case of bait and switch; i found myself obsessing over the curb appeal and interior aesthetics, contemplating if a new sectional in the living room would spark joy. but let me tell you, there is no depth or warmth to hardwood floors that compensates for an empty, echoing house. similarly with cars – the gleaming metal beasts parked strategically in the driveway as status symbols – all nothing more than shiny cages on wheels. behind the tinted windows of my latest luxury car, the road ahead feels as mundane as stepping onto a public transit bus.

are these the metrics by which we should measure our happiness? it is almost cruel how these societal benchmarks – job, marriage, possessions – are willed to us as recipes for happiness, when instead they align more with a cycle of perennial dissatisfaction. why do we perpetuate this fallacy? often, i catch myself longing for the present moment to end as quickly as it began, as if i am perpetually waiting for a revelatory experience that never arrives. “chase after this, achieve this, by forty you’ll be settled,” they said; when in reality, here i am with these supposedly gratifying possessions yet feeling no different than the restless, aspiring 20-year-old who began this relentless pursuit. tell me, what am i missing in this equation? should I try to completely change my job for something that i love? (but no idea... what could I love as a job...)

It's really hard to explain. I walk, I talk, I breathe, I do everything that living human does. But something has always felt off, like I'm *not* a living human. I have a personality. Sometimes. But somewhere inside me, I feel... lost. Like there's a peice out there that's missing from me. For a few days, while my cousin was over with his kids, I felt almost whole, while I was hanging out with the older of the two kids (he's 4). But they left this morning and now I feel... incomplete again. I'm trying my hardest to describe it, and choosing all the wrong words. Imagine if someone took your arm off, or your leg. You'd sometimes try to use the limb, feeling like it's still there, only to find it gone as it always was. That's how I feel sometimes. The part of me that's gone, I forget it's not there, find myself doing things I wouldn't do usually, like talking to someone who's not there. It's just that I don't remember that part of me ever being there. I don't remember having it, don't remember losing it. It's so frustrating. I've been trying to fill this hole, if you can call it that, been trying to feel fully alive again, but it just never goes away. Not fully, anyway. I've tried to fill the hole with friends, material things, family, and love but it just stays empty and I don't know what to fill it with. I've always kinda felt like this, just never understood it, so I never told anyone, just hid it. Please help.

So, I think some of read my vent in https://iiwiars.com/school/i-m-a-failure-long-version

And I showed it to my mom. She said it was nonsense of me to keep dragging this now because it already finished 2 days ago. She told me that the family still loves me, and no other family can ever love me the same way. What if she's lying? She said in life you shouldn't feel miserable and still allow yourself to change. I told her I can't change, and that I wish I could be faster because I'm slow compared to many others, but Moomy told me that it doesn't matter and I will still change and be good. What if she's lying? She also said that she can be my friend because she's my mom and so far she's been understanding. What if she's lying? She says that we all have a good time until I remember that we had a horrible argument/misunderstanding the night before, which she said she didn't forget, but she didn't wanna let it define her. What if she's lying? I'm hurt by the argument that day, and I feel like I was turned into a clown-like caricature, a "child creating her own problems to seek attention from others".

Surely I'm Belle Gibson, the Instagram lady who almost convinced the world she had cancer and they believed her genuinely (you should read the website above to know what I mean). My mom said that I shouldn't vent anymore and I should delete the thing, the big paragraphs I showed her, because it's not true. I told her that's not the point of a vent, and she said vents are apparently some stuff "people shove their ass in". Fuck her so much. I told her whenever I get angry, I wanna murder people, like, literally, and she called me a psycho. I told her I should've never said that and kept it in, but for some reason, bloody whore tells me to tell her EVERYTHING because she won't leave me behind! Bitch, you're lying, I know you are! Shut the fuck up, Moomy! Should I even call her that? It sounds wrong. Imagine having your mother as a friend, it'd be humiliating if any of my classmates saw me walk with my mom and brother in malls and not my friends, because I lack them. She told me I was good enough for now and I can improve, but not by "being miserable" because "I'm digging a deep hole I can't get out of".

I know she's been in many hardships, her parents divorced, financial issues, she couldn't have her dream job of being a doctor (she's an engineer now), yet she's never vented, because she's always been positive? That's some anime BS where the main guy says that! BS! I'm not digging a hole, am I? I'm telling the truth. Cynicism and hopelessness works because I'm not chasing fake happiness, I'm seeking the real truth. Again, it's embarrassing I'm having a "friendship" with my Moomy and not another person from class! Who even does that now? I don't even know anyone online! She's lying!

it seems that every time I search for help with my marriage, I’m bombarded with ads from love coaches promising to save my relationship for a mere small fortune, and honestly, it’s starting to drive me crazy. I mean, why does every piece of advice about marriage and relationships have to come with a price tag? I’m a 41-year-old guy who’s been married for over fifteen years, and things have not been easy lately. I thought turning to the internet would give me some insights from people who have been there, done that, you know? But every click leads me down a rabbit hole of expensive eBooks, online courses, and consultations that seem more about lining someone's pockets than actually providing real help. Is it just me, or do other people feel that the romantic advice industry is a total scam? I started searching for free resources—blogs, forums, whatever I could find—hoping to stumble across someone who genuinely wants to share their experiences instead of trying to market something. Now, don’t get me wrong, I get that everyone has to make a living, but sometimes it feels like the pursuit of love has turned into a business opportunity for a lot of folks out there. Honestly, I find it disheartening and slightly disingenuous. A lot of the free advice I managed to find was stuff like: "just communicate better" or "try to understand your partner's love language." Really? That’s it? It's like tossing around generic platitudes without any real substance behind them. Don't we deserve more than that when we're trying to navigate the complex waters of a long-term relationship? One of the biggest issues in my marriage right now is that my wife feels neglected, and I completely understand why, but expressing that to her is so much harder than it seems. It feels like there’s this invisible distance growing, and no matter how many times I read “quality time is key,” it doesn’t change the fact that there are genuine hurdles in connecting with her amid life’s overwhelming chaos. Do any of you know what it’s like to feel like you're tiptoeing on eggshells in your own home, afraid that saying the wrong thing could cause another argument? It’s exhausting. So, I started thinking, wouldn’t it be helpful if people shared real stories of overcoming relational pitfalls instead of charging for ‘insider secrets’? I mean, we all deal with different struggles—financial stress, work-life balance, parenting pressures—but where’s the collection of lived experiences that could actually provide comfort or insight? (Also, I wonder about the role of vulnerability in these discussions.) Maybe I’m idealistic, but genuine human connection shouldn’t have a price tag, right? And isn’t it odd how some people claim they can fix your relationship without even knowing you or your partner? What gives them that right? Aren’t relationships as unique as the people in them? While I was trying to find answers, I began jotting down my thoughts and the problems I face, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s value in that for others too. Is there something cathartic in sharing our struggles, in being real about our shortcomings without a sales pitch? I think there is. So, dear reader, have you ever found yourself in a similar spot? Perhaps you’ve tried seeking advice only to find it buried under a mountain of advertisements? In a way, I’m feelin’ like my own therapist here, as I write this down. The other day, I stumbled upon a forum where people shared their relationship stories for free, and it felt so refreshing. Some were heartbreaking, some were filled with laughter, and some provided actionable steps that didn’t cost an arm and a leg. It was like a breath of fresh air, and I left feeling encouraged rather than frustrated. Yet, it's a shame that these platforms are not mainstream. Why is it so hard to find genuine support without a catch? Is it possible that people are really more concerned about money than about truly helping others? Maybe I should just put my experiences out there and see if they resonate with anyone, no strings attached. If anyone feels like sharing their experiences, it could be therapeutic, right? Aren’t we all looking for that sense of community and support during our tough times? Just asking these questions makes me believe that we can find common ground in our struggles, whether it’s overcoming miscommunication or learning how to prioritize each other amid the stressors of daily life. So, what do you think? Can we create a space where we uplift each other without diving into that money pit of love coaching?

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I have almost never spoken about this. I always hid it from everyone, especially from my daughters, but not long ago I had to tell them the truth.

I was 14 years old when it happened. I was young, very kind, respectful, and always smiling. I was the classic kid with a thousand problems at home: family fights, beatings from my family, sleepless nights, things like that. I always looked for refuge in others. I was shy and had a stutter, and even so I never had friends… until she arrived, the girl who changed everything.

I’ll refer to her as Ana to protect her privacy. Ana was older than me; she was in her last year of high school. We met because I was being bullied at school and she was always the one leading it. One day she made me her boyfriend. How and when it happened, I still don’t know, but it happened out of nowhere without me realizing it. I guess the lack of affection and love I never had from my family didn’t let me walk away. Ana was 19, and even so we kept our relationship secret. I couldn’t do much—I was small, and even now I’m still only about five feet tall. Ana was tall, strong, dominant. She was about six foot two. She was mean to me and very strict. She always yelled at me and hit me, but because of my fear of being abandoned and being alone, I endured it.

Until one day she forced me to do it with her. It was… painful, but at that moment I saw it as affection and love. I was in a very bad place, and I know that now.

After that, Ana disappeared. A few months later she came back, and that’s when I saw her belly—six months pregnant. We did the tests and yes, I was the father. We hid everything. I ran away from home and moved in with Ana to a very cheap, run-down apartment. She always threatened to have an abortion if I didn’t obey her, and so I did, enduring everything because deep down I needed to protect that baby.

The day the birth came, I was already 15. Endless minutes passed until they finally let me in… and there they were. The doctor handed me my three daughters—yes, beautiful triplets with their mother’s features. Ana pretended to be happy but never held them. She refused to do so and always showed her contempt for them. And then it happened, once we got back home. Ana hit me, but I never let her touch the babies.

One day Ana came home from work. I stayed home taking care of the babies, feeding them with what little we had. That day she didn’t complain or say anything, and I wasn’t prepared for that infernal night.

Ana got up and took a knife. I didn’t sleep all night. I pretended to, and then I saw her, lifting the knife and pointing it with a psychopathic look at the babies. I reacted on instinct and blocked the strike—it hit my face. She cut me from my chin to my forehead. The cut went over my right eye but, by a miracle, it didn’t damage it. There was blood—too much blood. I screamed at her to stop, but she didn’t listen. She tried to stab me, but I pushed her and knocked her down. I reacted fast, moved the wardrobe, and it fell on top of her.

I didn’t stop there. I grabbed my daughters in my arms however I could and went out through the open window.

I ran like I never had in my life. I didn’t stop or look back. The cold hurt; it was snowing, and I couldn’t see out of my right side because of the blood. My daughters cried nonstop. I kept running without stopping. My feet hurt, and after hours of running, I collapsed.

I fell to the ground, covering my daughters so they wouldn’t get hurt. My chest burned with pain and I couldn’t feel half my face. I walked, limping, in the middle of the night until some police officers found me. I told them what had happened, and at least they were discreet—they didn’t force me to go back to my family or to Ana. They were kind enough to take me to the hospital, and when the doctor wanted to treat me, I ignored my own pain and insisted that he take care of the babies first. He did, because I wouldn’t stop insisting.

When we were discharged, I spent a few days on the streets with my daughters… We spent about three months homeless. I gave them what little I had to make food so they could eat, and I went hungry, but for them I would do anything, no matter the cost.

After that, I got a job as a personal secretary to a woman who was a CEO of a company. Then I was able to start paying for things and buying what we needed, always making sure my daughters were comfortable. I raised and educated them with the love and affection I never had.

Years passed, and now my daughters are 17—rebellious teenagers, but good girls. And the only thing I am grateful for from that horrible night is the honor of being a great father.

DEAR GOD WHEN CAN I HAVE A BESTFRIEND THAT CARED ME, I'M SICK OF BEING A EXTRA/LEFTOUT FRIEND I JUST WANT A REALL DAMN BESTFRIEND, AM I THE PROBLEM???, I ALWAYS TREATING MY FRIEND WITH KIDNESS BUT THEY ONLY SAW THE WORST INE ME😭😭😭