Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I keep asking myself why things go the way they do, and maybe you can tell me if you see something I don’t. I’m 19, I’m a guy, and every time I get a girlfriend she leaves me after a few days or maybe a couple weeks. It feels like a pattern I can’t break, but I’m trying to stay calm and hopeful about it. I’m not rude or anything like that. I’m polite, I respect women, I listen, and I try not to talk too much about myself. I’m not ugly but not beautiful either, just somewhere in the middle like many people. I’m not rich, not poor. My clothes look fine because my mom picks everything for me, and she actually has good taste even if I feel a bit embarassed about telling people that. The weird thing is I don’t fight with the girls I date. I don’t yell or get angry or act controlling. I try to show kindness. I try to be normal. Yet after a few days they start saying “I feel like something is missing” or “I don’t know what I want right now,” and then they just pull away. I don’t blame them, but it makes me wonder. Is something wrong with me? Or am I just in the wrong place, wrong time, wrong stage of life without noticing it?

Sometimes when I look back at each short relationship, I feel detached, like I’m watching a movie of someone else’s life. I try to be objective. What did I do wrong? Was I too polite? Too quiet? Too available? Maybe I answer messages too quickly. Maybe I say “yes” too often. Or maybe I don’t say enough interesting things. Maybe I’m boring. I don’t know. It’s strange because I like peaceful moments. I like sitting next to someone without forcing words. But I guess a lot of girls my age want excitement or drama or something that keeps the energy high. One girl even told me, “You’re too calm,” like it was a bad thing. I don’t think calm is bad. It helps me think clearly. Still, when someone says that, I start thinking maybe I should be louder or more spontaneous or more chaotic or something like that. But that wouldn’t be me. I don’t want to pretend to be someone else. Maybe the right person will like the calm. Maybe she will like the silence too. I keep telling myself “the right girl will stay,” even if it feels like a quote from some cliché poster on the wall. But sometimes clichés help when your heart is a little confused.

I try to stay positive. I really do. I look forward, not backwards. I keep reminding myself that I’m still young. Nineteen is nothing, right? I haven’t even figured out my own life plan yet. Maybe that’s part of the reason things fall apart fast. Maybe girls my age also don’t know what they want. Maybe everyone is just trying random things to see what feels right. I even looked up some stuff online, and I read somewhere, “Early relationships are practice, not final results.” That made me feel lighter. It was like someone telling me it’s okay to not have everything perfect now. I can accept that. I don’t feel angry at the girls who left. I don’t think they’re bad or mean. I think they’re lost too, the same as me. And even if my relationships were short, at least I tried. At least I opened up a little. At least I cared. And caring is something I don’t want to lose. I would rather be a caring person than someone who pushes feelings away. Even if it hurts a little at the end. Pain fades anyway. Hope stays longer.

So I guess I’m writing this to ask you honestly: is something wrong with me? Or maybe nothing is wrong and life is just doing its weird confusing thing. I’m not perfect, but I don’t feel broken. I don’t feel hopeless. I just feel like a person trying to understand himself while watching people drift in and out of his life. Maybe relationships ending quickly isn’t a sign that I’m unlovable. Maybe it’s just timing. Maybe it’s the age. Maybe it’s just normal and I’m overthinking it. I hope so. I hope things will change slowly, like weather getting warmer after a long cold week. I hope next time I meet someone, things last a little longer. And even if they don’t, I’ll keep going. I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep trying. Life is still long for me, and I want to stay hopeful. So tell me, what do you think? Am I missing something obvious? Or should I just relax, breathe, and trust that it will all make sense someday?

Hey everyone, my name's Mike. I don’t really know if this is the right place to ask, but I’m kinda desperate for answers. How long does it actually take to get over someone? I know, it probably sounds like I'm overthinking, but I honestly can't seem to shake it. I broke up with Sarah almost three months ago, and the feelings just won’t let up. Every time I try to focus on something else, she just pops back into my mind. I feel like I’m stuck in this loop where I can't move forward, but I also can't go back.

We were together for almost two years, and we had so many plans—vacations we wanted to take, moving in together, all that. It wasn't a perfect relationship (not by a long shot), but it felt real, you know? Even the little things, like grabbing coffee on Saturdays or having movie marathons on rainy days… they’re haunting me now. I’m not sure if it’s the routine or the actual person I miss.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to move on. I’ve been going out more with friends, hitting the gym, and even focusing more on work. But somehow, it feels like nothing quite fills the gap she left. I thought about dating again, but even just thinking about getting to know someone new feels exhausting. What if it takes forever to get over her? What if I’m just going to feel this way forever?

People say that time heals all wounds, but is there some kind of timeline I’m missing? Some people seem to move on in a month or two, and here I am, still struggling. It’s hard not to feel like there’s something wrong with me. Anyway, if anyone has been through something similar, how long did it take you to finally feel normal again? I just want to know that there’s some light at the end of this tunnel. Thanks for listening.

I honestly don’t know how to even start this but I’ll just try and let it out. So I’m 19 and I’m in my first ever real relationship with a guy (and... I am a guy too). I didn’t plan on it or whatever, it just happened and I thought it was gonna be this amazing thing, like everything would fall into place. And at first, it kinda felt that way, I guess. He made me feel seen in ways that girls never really did. Not saying girls were bad or something, it just always felt like something was missing and then when he came along, it felt like maybe that missing piece showed up. But now I’m here and I’m realizing I love him but I don’t think I love him enough to make this work. And that sucks so bad. Like, what even is “enough love”? How do you measure that? All I know is I feel like I’m constantly trying to make things feel right and they just never do.

He’s got this energy that’s just… different. Not just different from mine, I mean opposite. Like oil and water type deal. He’s loud and sarcastic and super confident in a way that sometimes makes me feel invisible or like I’m just tagging along. I’m quieter, more chill, and I don’t like all the fighting and teasing. He says I’m “too sensitive” but I don’t think that’s fair. Like yeah maybe I take things to heart but that doesn’t mean he gets to walk all over my feelings. The other night he joked in front of his friends that I’m boring and even if he said “he was just messing,” it stayed in my head for days. That kinda stuff isn’t cool to me. I told him it hurt and he just laughed and said I was being dramatic. Is that how someone’s supposed to care about you? Like seriously?

And then there’s the part of me that feels like I’m the bad one for thinking of leaving. Like, what if I never find someone again? What if this is just how it’s supposed to feel? Maybe all relationships are just about learning to deal with stuff and I’m just being selfish. But isn’t it also true that being in love should make you feel safe and supported? I’m tired of always second-guessing myself. Every time I bring up something that bothers me, he flips it on me or makes me feel guilty like I’m making things up. I’ve caught myself keeping quiet just to avoid fights. That’s not healthy, right? But then again, maybe I’m overthinking things and being picky? I mean this is my first time in something like this… maybe I just suck at relationships.

So yeah. I’m stuck. I care about him a lot, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I also feel like I’m slowly losing parts of myself trying to keep him happy. I don’t feel like he truly sees me anymore. I feel more like a background character in his life than a boyfriend. I don’t want to be someone who stays in something just because they’re scared to leave. But I also don’t want to walk away too fast and regret it. If you’ve been in this kinda situation before, what did you do? How do you know when it’s really time to break up with someone? How do you stop loving someone who isn’t really right for you?

idk like my hobbies aint hitting the same anymore. everythings so gray and dull. im trying to not be suicidal here but its not giving me many options. ive tried song writing but all my guitar stuff is pretty depressing, angry or something made by a stoner. i have no purpose, nobody needs me. i think thats a thingy thats making me depressed/bored too.. and uhh im not dead yet! i failed miserably at suicide and i somehow managed to hide it from my parents. they are lowkey idiots.

lol sorry for the mods reading trough all my geeked ass posts. hope you have a splendid day today.

but yeah any tips? or stuff to do in general?

i’ve been holding a lot in for a long time. i don’t always know how to say these things out loud, but maybe you’ll understand. maybe you’ve felt some of this too.

i’ve always been different. even when i was little, i noticed it. i had meltdowns at school and sometimes i would run out of the classroom. everything got too loud and too confusing. kids stayed away from me. some were scared. i got bullied a lot. it made me think something was wrong with me.

i wanted friends. i wanted to be like everyone else. but i didn’t know how. it felt like i missed out on learning something everyone else just knew. people tried to help. i got put on meds and into therapy. i know they were trying their best. but it didn’t fix how alone i felt. it just made me feel guilty for being a problem.

growing up, i barely had any friends. most of the time, i was by myself. even in high school, when it seemed like everyone had groups and plans and people to count on, i had maybe two or three people i could really trust. and even then, i was scared. i felt like if people ever knew the real me, they might leave too. and if they did, i would have no one.

and the truth is, i love people. i love hard. i act fine because i don’t want anyone to worry about me. i laugh things off, i ignore my problems, and i show up for everyone else. because somewhere deep down, i’ve always felt like i can’t be loved just for existing. i feel like unless i achieve something, or do something for you, i don’t deserve to be cared about. i help so many people, and no one really asks how i’m doing. but that’s fine. that’s just who i am, right? i take care of others. i make people smile. i stay strong so no one has to worry. i guess i thought maybe if i gave enough, it would be enough to keep people around.

the only place where i ever felt like i belonged was baseball. when i played, i wasn’t different. i was just part of a team. i didn’t have to hide anything. all the stress, all the burden, all the overthinking — it would just disappear. for those couple of hours, all of my problems were gone. it was one of the only times in my life i could breathe and just be. no worrying if i was too much or not enough. no second-guessing every word i said. just playing the game i loved. it made me truly happy in a way nothing else did. i’ve played since i was a kid. no vacations, no parties, no normal stuff. just baseball.

when i played baseball, i felt like i had a purpose. it was the only place where things made sense. i had a job to do, and i knew how to do it. i didn’t have to guess what people were thinking or try to be something i wasn’t. i could just play. i belonged there, even when nothing else in my life felt right.

but i’ve also realized something. ever since i was 10, it’s all i did. every day. i practiced. i lifted. i threw. i hit. i spent every summer on the field while other kids went on vacations or hung out or just lived. i was out there in the middle of july, 100-degree heat, full catcher’s gear, sweat pouring off me, pushing my body harder than i probably should have. i was 15 years old, catching doubleheaders in the sun, going home sore and waking up to do it all over again. i told myself it was worth it. i told myself i was chasing something important.

but it also made me feel behind. and lost. because no matter how much i worked, i would see kids who were just better. they had the talent. they made it look easy. i’d put in hours and hours and hours, and they’d show up and still be ahead of me. i’d tell myself to keep going, to work harder, that it would pay off. but deep down, i started to wonder if hard work was ever going to be enough. if maybe i was just running in place, wearing myself out chasing something i could never catch.

and i think part of me knew that. but i was too scared to stop. because if i stopped, then what? without baseball, i didn’t know who i was. it wasn’t just a game. it was the thing that made me feel like i had value. without it, i was just that weird kid again. the one who didn’t fit. the one who didn’t know how to be normal.

so i kept going. even when it hurt. even when it felt hopeless. because being exhausted and left behind still felt better than being nothing at all.

now i know i’m probably not going to make it. i’m not getting drafted. i’m not going to play pro. and i don’t know what to do without it. it was never just a game to me. it was my whole life.

now i’m studying accounting. i’m good at numbers, maybe because of my autism. people say it’s a smart choice. they say it will get me a good job. but i don’t like it. it’s just surviving. working and paying bills and doing it all again the next day. i hate it. i hate that dreams don’t matter unless they make money.

i thought about coaching, but it doesn’t pay enough. so i have to give that up too.

i feel stuck most days. like i missed too much already and now i’m building a life that won’t make me happy. people told me i was going to do great things. and now if i’m not the best at something, i feel like i’m nothing.

i don’t know where i go from here. i don’t know what it looks like to build something new from nothing. i just know i’m tired of running from myself. tired of chasing things that were never meant for me. tired of believing that i have to earn the right to be okay.

Move on and let go or die trying you too nosy for your own good huh? You think you are helping when in reality you are just making up excuses trying to find ways to put me to hell? "Creating scenarios in your fcking head? You think you know everything you can't even see me in person without insulting when u gay af as well

Growing up, my family life was more about solitude and less communication. We rarely engaged in traditional familial gatherings or collective celebrations like most do. As a result, I grew to be more introverted and reserved—a sharp contrast to my spouse Alex's family, who are the epitome of warmth and community spirit.

Alex's family is exceedingly open and loving. Their home is a hub of unceasing activity, with relatives dropping by without prior notice, welcomed with joy and affection. The environment is always lively with children's laughter and elders sharing tales or embracing each other in a warm huddle. They've extended this warmth to me whole-heartedly but sometimes, their intensity can be overwhelming.

Recently, during a family dinner, when one of the children was excited to perform a song she had learned, everyone joined in singing. While I opted to appreciate quietly, Alex's aunt nudged me repeatedly to sing along. I chose instead to applaud the performance, hoping my gesture was fitting. Similarly, when it came time for farewells, instead of hugging, I offered a high five to the younger kids. This, however, seemed to perplex some of the parents who expected a more conventional goodbye.

The situation escalated when a group of women, around my age, proposed a 'girls-only' camping trip. When they invited me to join, I politely declined, although I offered them our camping equipment to use. This refusal seemed to frustrate the organizer, who, along with my mother-in-law, expressed disappointment that I wasn't participating more openly in family activities. Despite their efforts to include me, I’ve always maintained a balance of engagement, respecting my own comfort levels while still trying to connect.

I’ve indeed stepped out of my comfort zone on many occasions—joining in group events, accompanying them for shopping, attending weddings, and more than I generally prefer. My therapist has been a great support, helping me navigate these social settings, recognizing that while it’s challenging for them, it’s equally taxing for me. Yet, the efforts seem to fall short in their eyes.

My husband stands by me, reassuring me of my efforts and acknowledging my endeavors to blend into his family. Nevertheless, this ongoing struggle led my mother-in-law to express her displeasure to me directly, lamenting that even after eight years, she felt like I still didn't accept them as family. In my heart, though, I treat them as family, just in my own way.

For a moment, consider if my situation were part of a reality show. The dynamics and our interactions could make quite the spectacle, possibly invoking public debates on the essence of family and individual boundaries. Viewers might be split, with some empathizing with my need for personal space and others perhaps critiquing it as aloofness. The added drama of familial expectations versus personal comfort might very well be a central theme.

All my life, been waging war in my mind, been waiting for something right, been waiting for sun to shine. Apathy, the friend of my enemy. Another blind visionary. I never cry, but I bleed. Tell me, what does it feel like to feel anything again? I know that it takes time, but this never ends, and I'm starting to realize: The glass half empty's been just a way to be baptized in the taste of your own medicine. Don't tell mom. Tell her it's just a song. Tell her I'm holding on. I'm sorry I missed her call. What this wasn't what I wanted? Can I return the life I've started? Just 14 years, and I'm exhausted. Guess we're calling this normal. Tell me, what does it feel like to feel anything again? I know that it takes time, but this never ends, and I'm starting to realize: The glass half empty's been just a way to be baptized in the taste of your own medicine. And I call it a cry for help. You call it song lyrics. But as long as I force a smile, I guess we'll just ignore it. I just hope that someday, someone will love me.

Heyah!! 1st I wanna say... To whoever reads this... I give you full authority to copy my idea that I thought of just now... Since I know for myself, I'll never be able to achieve it... I'd like someone else to if they have the means to do so...

So, you know how plastic is hella annoying, and it'll last forever basically... Or at least for a good few hundred thousand years or so... So...

Why not invent books filled with knowledge... Fully made of recycled plastic from wasted bottles or other discarded plastic junk. Knowledge is power, and why not preserve the knowledge into something that most likely will be around for a sh*t-ton amount of time. Plus, with this idea, less trees would be needed for making paper.

Anyway. To whoever is able to make my dream come true... I thank you and so does this Earth and I guess future people who want to enjoy knowledge.

I'm gonna go write another story/random conversation on this app, but feel free to comment or like😄👍🏻✨!!

And if this idea already exists... Then I look forward to seeing more developments into this idea😍🙏🏻✨!!!

In sta gram : (no spaces) happy _ xiaohang 100

Have a wonderful day lovely humans👋🏻😃!!!

Just curious as someone who's curious about the subject. Unfortunately the internet only tells me what happens, not how, or what the person feels specifically.

For cis gender males...

When you have hanky-panky time... Assuming that you have... Alone or with someone... What does it feel like for a male appendage to um... Have the red human fluid go down there🫣!? I sound ridiculous, but I'm not sure how to word this without there being restrictions😮‍💨. It's completely innocent... I swear🙇🏻‍♀️✨!!

I live in a home full of cis gender females. And one 60+ year old male(the dad figure of the house)... But I wouldn't ask the 60+ year old male... Cause he's also my cousin🫥. And that's just weird🫠.

I mean... Not saying it's not not weird here... It's just... Um... You know... Anonymous😅.

Anyway... The only thing I get from Reddit is...

"It's like warm and it's a build up and then it's a woosh!!" Does that make any forking sense😩!? Cause it doesn't to me🥴!!

And I'm specifically asking about just the red human liquid that flows to that area... Not necessarily the... Um... End result🫥.

I heard somewhere the end result does end up being tingly... But what does "tingly" even mean😫!! Like come on dudes, bros, any cis gender male or people with that particular appendage... Be more specific... What does it feel like🧐!?

And why does it get harder to the touch🤔!? Do people with this particular appendage feel the difference in that particular area🤷🏻‍♀️!?

I'm just really curious... As a very, very, very inexperienced cis female human in her early 20's... I'm just curious🫠.

And no need to answer if anyone is uncomfortable☺️🙏🏻✨... Or just simply doesn't know how to answer😶‍🌫️.

so well when I was a kid I had a dad and he will always hurt my mom I never like her seen in pain by my dad.. I tried to help her but she push me away and didn't do anything until one day she decind to go the boxing and I was proud of her but then that when she change she became rude like my dad and I was scared and when I started to grow up even more things got different my sister who's was born was 2015 she was a rude to me a lot and nice but she always used to lie to my mom and dad that I did something it hurt me too much and I was getting pare with my older sister that she was pretty sweet nice kind .always got A's on her test/grades I wanted to be like her but I just let everyone down I am a stupid daugther who does nothing right I always get called annyoin rude a bitch and whore and miskat why do I have to be like this so I did the worst thing but before I will you guys I used to scrach my neck and made it into a cross it stranded for me something that I did bad anwyas back to the aprate soo well what I did bad was sh (self harm) I did it all over my body I didn't know what do to then my mom found out and too me to theryp... and they wanted me to get send to a mh (mentle hospiled ).....

I listended to this song called Mind Of Mine by Lo Spirit and It made me cry because the lyrics are so deep and I can relate to them I just wish someone would hold me and say it's ok I am here for you

So recently I’ve been getting super worried because sometimes my vision randomly goes blurry, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m stressed or if there’s something actually wrong with me. Like, I’m 16 and I already deal with a lot of anxiety from school, friends, and just life in general, but this new thing is freaking me out more than usual. When I’m sitting in class, especially in math or history when I have to stare at the board for a long time, it feels like my eyes just won’t focus and the words kind of smear together. At first I thought maybe I just needed new glasses, but I went to the eye doctor not long ago and he said my prescription barely changed, and that what I’m describing doesn’t really match up with my test results. He told me it might be stress-related, like “ocular fatigue,” and that kind of stuck in my head. So of course I went home and googled it, and I found all these articles and people online saying stress and anxiety can actually make your vision blur because of muscle tension or even breathing weird when you’re nervous. It made sense because this happens the most when I’m panicking, like during tests or when I have to talk in front of people. But at the same time I keep overthinking like, what if it’s something worse? I read about migraines with aura, blood sugar drops, and other scary things, and that makes me spiral even more. So now I’m just stuck asking myself over and over—could anxiety really be the reason my vision blurs, or am I missing something serious that needs attention?

There was one day that still bothers me a lot: I was doing a class debate, and my heart was beating way too fast, my palms were sweaty, and all of a sudden the paper I was reading from went blurry like someone smudged it on purpose. It lasted for maybe five minutes, then once I sat back down and calmed down, my sight went back to normal. That kind of makes me think it is anxiety-related, because when my body chilled out, the blurriness went away too. I even read that when you’re anxious, your body makes more adrenaline and cortisol, which messes with your breathing and blood flow, and that can cause temporary vision changes. It’s weird because sometimes it happens when I’m not even feeling that anxious, and that makes me question everything again; like maybe I am just overthinking but maybe not. My best friend told me, “you’re worrying about worrying,” and she’s probably right, but I can’t stop noticing it. I started keeping a little log in my notebook about when it happens, how I’m feeling, and how long it lasts so I can show it to my doctor if it keeps going. I don’t want to ignore it just in case, but I also don’t want to stress myself more if it really is just anxiety playing tricks on me. Do you think anxiety can actually cause blurred vision, or is that just something people say online? And if you’ve had the same thing, how did you figure out if it was harmless or something you needed help with; honestly it’s both comforting and confusing to realize that my brain and body can mess with each other like this 😅

first of all, i dont actually have any really bad problems so you dont have to feel bad for me.

I feel like me friendships end up the same alot of the times, by them treating me badly, for example this one friend group im apart of is the kind where everyone is cussing about eachother but we all know we are joking most of the time, but then when there is actually some drama im apart of, i know what would hurt a person but i just dont wanna do that and they just say the most bad thing about me. I feel like almost everyone friend group im apart of is this kind of where everyone is always shittakking eachother but j just want to be apart of one where everyone respects eachother, of course a joke sometimes is completely ok but im so tired of constantly getting shitted on. Why do people always stab so much where it hurts? Do they not know, or do they do it on purpose. This had happend to me in 3 friend groups and im starting to feel like its problem on my side, im thinking for some time i fould be having paranoid personality disorder, should i talk to a psychiatrist? Is it my fault? Please, i will value advice

PS: also sorry if its quite chaotic

This is where it began, I guess.

So I was classmates with this one guy (calling him EC) back when I was in grade 2 and we were really good friends back then, though over time our friendship wasn't as tight as before. Honestly, I get why it wasn't. We couldn't meet as much due to us being put in different sections.

Anyway, fast forward to the point where I was grade 6.

Still was in the same school but made more friends, and I was the "smartest" (I'll rant about that some other time) in my class. Tried running for class president because the teachers convinced me to, but I lost the election for it. "It's fine," I thought to myself. And to be fair, the person that won the election (calling him BA) deserved that spot. Really nice and kind to anyone he could see.

Minded my business for the most part after that, except when my classmates asked for help on how to do some homework or clarify instructions the teachers gave (which I gladly did for them). Surprisingly, BA was one of those people, and kept asking me frequently. Couldn't refuse, so I just sucked it up and offered a hand. Over time though, I started to like him. I don't know why. I just did.

Near the end of the school year, our homeroom teacher asked what we were gonna do after graduating. BA then started talking about going abroad with his close friends to me. I asked who was going with him, and he said EC and a couple others who I don't know.

BA and I got into the same all-boys high school for grade 7, but got put in different sections. Didn't bother us both, though. We'd meet somewhere inside the library and he'd keep asking for help. To be honest, that school year was too boring without him by my side. What I didn't tell him however (and still haven't told him) was that I'd be transferring to another school for grade 8, so he still thinks I'll be by his side. I tried convincing my parents to let me stay, primarily because I want to still be with him, but I can't get them to budge.

Up until then, I still didn't tell him or anyone that I like him. I want to ask him out someday, but I can't. First, I don't know if he's just as interested in me as I am to him. Second, the students in this high school dislike the idea of dating the same sex. Most of the students there openly make homophobic remarks and shame others outside school and I don't want him to be treated like that. Third, I don't think we can work a long-distance relationship if he does like me back, and I don't think he'll drop everything to be with me cuz all his friends, especially EC, are still in that high school.

Grade 8 is about to start soon. I have his DM's but I don't know what to tell him. I don't know what to do.

Sorry if my rant was too long, please drink enough water, get enough sleep, and bye!❤️