Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I’m with you physically, but your with her lovingly

Why? Why does it hurt? This feeling…..is it heartbreak?, sadness? No. its rejection. I was with you then, bought you food, sponsored your bike rental at burnham, I don’t know why I was suddenly generous, but…when I saw you for the first time, ….i felt….weird. Your eyes were the first thing I noticed, hazel brown….with the light shining back at me. I….was mesmerized. Then your body…lean but not too much, muscles perfectly exaggerated with your tight shirt ,perfect pecks. Its too much….yet I cant look away.. Your voice, deep but soft. With every word you spoke, It felt as if I was back in my elementary days....so focused on what you were saying…

Days pass….we get close, and I still have yet to understand this feeling, I know it though…..love, affection, attraction… but is it really? I cant handle it….fighting the urge to just…wrap you in my arms. And be with you till you leave, why? Why is it so hard to describe? Is it love? Is it affection? Or simple attraction? Why is it that when I think of you my heart skips a beat? WHY…

We talk more, I learn more.

I learned you liked someone…someone I know….whom I stand no chance with. It hurts, I still don’t know WHY. Why is it that I feel different around you, why is it that whenever we talk…I get pulled in and the small talk turns to a full on conversation. So many questions… about what? Obvious affection? a simple crush? …is it more than that?

I hate this feeling, my chest…hurts as if someone died..

When we sat alone in that stage, I felt bliss..happy just to be with you. I didn’t care how many people were staring, I just wanted to be with you….but…I guess you had other plans.

When I was ranting to you then, you listened. You cared.

When we were chatting on messenger a while ago I was just asking if you had my umbrella…I left it the night before, from volleyball practice. You said no and continued to say “huh sorry but I hadn’t taken an umbrella” you then proceed to send a photo with the caption “this Is the only thing I got”. I was confused, what did he get that he had to tell me….the I opened it….two hands intertwined, yours and…..a girls hand?

My heart dropped

Hi ive just been feeling really shitty lately. My grades are lower than they ever were before and i cant seem to get my life together. Im a sophomore in high school. In the first term of my sophomore year i got 5 Fs. I didnt know where i went wrong but i told myself i’d try harder. Obviously this was the first time i’d gotten such bad grades ever. I went home and i cried to my mom. I wasn’t crying over my grades i was crying about how my father was going to handle it. I could hear him yelling at my mom from his room saying shit like “she never studies” or “shes just lazy”. Truth is ive been asking my mom to pick me up early from school almost everyday and ive been absent so much. Ive been in and out of the hospital. So the stress from that day was a lot, i even passed out in the bathroom for 2 hours until my dad found me (he said i was being dramatic and just wanted attention).

In the second term i tried to show up to school as much as possible. It was hard but i pushed through. I was so scared after what happened in the first term i told myself I’m not going to go out and see friends, even on weekends. So for over 2 months i stayed home and studied. I even got multiple tutors to help me. Even after all that hard work i got 3 Fs and 2 Ds. I was crying harder than i was in the first term. I genuinely cried so much my head was throbbing. My mom told my dad about my grades, he was angrier than before. He kept yelling at me and telling me I’m a failure and that he wanted to hit me but he was holding himself back. I was crying the whole day, i talked to my girlfriend as she tried to reassure me but it really didnt help much. That evening i texted all of my friends ily and spent over 2 hours writing about 14 letters and i tried to end it all. One of my friends and my gf stopped me. I said i wouldnt do anything again but i genuinely dont feel like living anymore. If i dont take myself out then my dad will.

It’s currently the third term. I doubt im passing this year. Ive already repeated 9th grade over 2.5 marks. Now im scared i repeat this one. I swear im trying hard but it seems like all the time and work i put into this isnt paying off. Im in a public school, and where i live our grading system takes 80% of the final exam mark and 20% of the mark from the teachers (all the tests, hw, assignments etc.). My marks are never this low. Every time i get a test paper back something in me dies. I got my math paper back today (which i spent a week studying) and i got an 8/20. I genuinely felt like crying. No matter how hard i work everything just doesn’t work out for me.

I disabled most of my accounts. I blocked most people. I dont wanna talk to anyone. Im open to the idea of getting therapy but if theyre going to tell my parents everything then im not gonna talk to them. I really feel like my mental health is going down. I feel like shit everyday and wish it would all end soon. Im supposed to graduate next year with my gf and my other friends but the fact i had to repeat 9th grade took me a year behind. Now im scared to fail 10th grade. How much stupider can i be

Being a mom is the most rewarding and terrifying thing I’ve ever done. My little girl is only two years old, but every single day, I find myself wondering: am I doing enough? How to be a good mother when it feels like there’s so much to figure out?

Some days, I feel like I’m nailing it. We play together, she laughs at my silly songs, and I can see how happy she is. But then there are moments when I feel like I’m completely failing. Like yesterday, when I lost my temper because she spilled juice on the carpet after I told her three times not to run around with her cup. She cried, and it broke my heart because all I could think about was, “What kind of mom yells at a two-year-old over juice?”

I read parenting blogs and watch videos on how to raise happy, confident kids, but it’s overwhelming. There’s so much advice out there, and half of it feels contradictory. Be strict, but not too strict. Let them explore, but set boundaries. Make healthy meals, but don’t stress if they eat nuggets and fries once in a while. I’m trying to do it all, but is that even possible?

I see other moms who seem to have it all together—perfectly dressed kids, Pinterest-worthy lunches, and spotless homes. Meanwhile, I’m just proud if I can get her to daycare on time with matching socks. Sometimes, I wonder if they’re struggling too and just hiding it better.

I love my daughter more than anything, and I want her to grow up feeling loved, supported, and safe. But how do I know if I’m doing it right? Is there some magic formula on how to be a good mother, or is it just about showing up every day and doing your best?

If anyone has advice or has felt this way too, I’d love to hear it. I’m trying so hard, but some days it feels like I’m just fumbling through.

Recently, I moved into my first apartment, which has given me the exciting chance to personalize my living space. My mom, an incredibly talented artist with a knack for creating fantasy settings inspired by ancient Greece, painted something special for my brother and me. The painting showcases a teenage prince and princess, presumably siblings, engaged in a playful sparring session. Unique to her art and reflective of ancient Greek influences, the siblings are depicted without shirts, symbolizing equality and a different norm of modesty.

This artwork, filled with sentimental value, holds a place of honor in my apartment's main room. The painting not only captures her artistic skill but also represents a nod to cultural storytelling and historical norms.

However, not long ago, my grandparents and my young cousin, who's just 13, came to visit. I hadn't considered that the painting might be seen as controversial, so I didn't think to remove or cover it. Upon seeing the painting, my grandmother was outraged, labeling it as inappropriate. She expressed severe disapproval, saying it was wrong to display such an image, and even had my cousin wait outside in the car. She pressured me to hide the painting immediately.

Conflicted and taken aback by her strong reaction, I stood my ground. The tension escalated into a full-blown argument as I felt judged in my own home. Her reaction made me question if I was wrong to hang the painting so prominently without considering different perspectives on decency.

Now, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show, where every dispute and dramatic moment is magnified for entertainment. How might the viewers react to such a family quarrel over a piece of art? Would the public side with my freedom to display any art I choose in my own home, or would they agree with my grandmother's more conservative views on what is deemed appropriate? The inclusion of cameras and an audience could potentially intensify the family dynamics, turning a personal disagreement into a spectacle that challenges both personal and cultural boundaries.

What do you think - was it inappropriate for me to display such art in my home, or should personal freedom in one's living space remain unchallenged?

Growing up, my life was deeply entrenched in religious practices, as both of my parents embraced faith as young adults, met at church, and centered their entire social existence around religious activities. About five years ago, I realized that I didn't share their beliefs, and ever since revealing this, our relationship has been strained, particularly with my mother. As a child, I often protested attending church and expressed my discomfort with having religion imposed upon me. My stance saddened my parents, especially my mother, who confessed that it made her question her faith. They explained that since I live under their roof and am financially dependent on them, I must abide by their rules, which includes attending church.

As I've matured, I've come to understand how fundamental their faith is to them and that they believe they are acting in my best interest. Thus, I attend church with them every week without complaint. However, I still struggle when they continuously bring religion into daily conversations. Seeking advice usually leads to responses laden with religious references, which don’t resonate with me. Although I've tried to explain my point of view, it often results in arguments, with my parents insisting that they are just trying to offer guidance.

Not long ago, during a lengthy car ride, they insisted on interrupting my music listening to share a biblical passage. This demand sparked frustration in me, prompting me to confront their forceful approach. The situation escalated, and as a consequence, they confiscated my phone for the rest of the journey. While losing my phone is trivial, the recurring theme of such disputes pains me.

Understanding my change of heart has been hard for my parents, but their insistence on incorporating Christianity into aspects of my life where it makes me uncomfortable seems like an infringement on my personal boundaries. Am I indeed being closed-minded by asking them to refrain from pushing their beliefs on me, or am I unjustified here?

If my situation was featured in a reality show, the reactions could be quite polarized. Viewers might side with me, feeling sympathetic towards my desire for personal belief independence, while others might regard my parents' actions as justified guidance for someone under their care. This could potentially lead to heated debates among the audience about the balance between parental influence and individual freedom.

I’m not sure how to explain this, but my older sister is the most irresponsible person I know. Just like how she fails to take care of her kids, she also neglects her pets. Thankfully, my mom has custody of her kids, but unfortunately, her pets suffer from her neglect. Over the years, it’s mostly been cats and small dogs, so I would sneak into her house to feed and clean up after them. They’re living, breathing souls and deserve to be taken care of, so I started taking them and rehoming them to people out of town, making it seem like they ran away. This time was different because she got a very expensive 60lb purebred dog who’s not fully grown. I hoped she would change, but she didn’t. Since this dog cost her money, I was scared to take him, so instead, I tried to tell her that her dog was malnourished and not well-behaved and that a dog of that size and breed should be trained. I explained that if she doesn’t rehome the dog, I will call animal control and report her, and if she keeps getting animals, I will continue to report her. She flipped out on me and called me judgmental, and that’s when she realized I made all her pets go missing. She called me psychotic and asked me to leave. My mom said I had the right mindset, but I shouldn’t interfere. I honestly thought I was helping the animals, but now I feel like I should have handled the situation differently. Did I react correctly?

Before you give the final verdict, let me give you an example of her neglect. She leaves her house for days or weeks, leaving them unattended, and doesn’t even think about coming home to feed them. She’s not consistent with buying them food. The smaller animals, she thinks it’s funny to tease them and shake them. She doesn’t potty train the dogs, so she smacks them when they go in the house. And the bigger dog is just skin and bones. I try to take him out, but he’s not trained and tries to attack other dogs and jumps on people.

Sometimes I wonder how people would react if this was on a reality show. Would they support me for rescuing the animals, or side with my sister and think I’m overstepping? It would be interesting to see the public’s reaction to this messy situation.

Originally from the Midwest and now residing in the heart of Georgia, my demeanor starkly contrasts with the genteel mannerisms usually found in the South. While I hail from a region where forthrightness is common, it’s not the cordial type often seen in those with Canadian heritage—it’s more of a blunt, straightforward attitude that doesn’t always prioritize politeness. Since relocating, though, I've learned to adjust somewhat and can often manage a stern yet non-hostile smile in situations that call for it.

I recall a day when my friend and I decided to dine at a local eatery, which was experiencing an unusually slow afternoon. Being one of just four occupied tables with a full team of staff on hand, it seemed unreasonable when our simple order of two sandwiches took an agonizing 45 minutes. When the food arrived, it was cold, soggy, and bland, a clear sign of underwhelming effort in the kitchen. Despite our disappointment, I wasn’t inclined to send the food back as it seemed futile. I merely wished to settle the bill for our unsatisfactory meal and leave.

Soon, our waitress checked in to ask if everything was satisfactory with our meal. With my firm but polite grin, I confessed, "No, it really kind of sucked. Could I get the check, please?" She appeared slightly disconcerted and scurried off to fetch the manager despite my protests. My friend, meanwhile, was mortified by the unfolding events, seemingly embarrassed by my forwardness.

When the manager approached us to inquire further, I reiterated my concerns about the meal, maintaining composure and civility throughout the interaction. He dismissively offered to waive the charges, but I declined, aiming not to sour our relationship with a restaurant we frequented. My friend later questioned why I voiced my dissatisfaction if I didn’t want compensation, to which I responded, "Because they asked." He often reminds me not to stir trouble anecdotally referring to me as 'Karen.'

Another incident that might shed more light on my character involved a situation at a party where a guest had blocked my car. Rather than apologise for requesting he move it, I simply asked straightforwardly. This too, didn’t sit well with my friend, who felt it was necessary to cite as further proof of my supposed 'Karenness.'

Would the dynamics be different if this happened on a reality television show? With cameras rolling, my forthrightness could either be portrayed as refreshing honesty or as unnecessarily harsh, depending on the viewer's perspective. Would the audience applaud the candidness or criticize the lack of softening typical Southern charm? Reality shows thrive on conflict and character, and personalities like mine are often polarizing, sparking debates amongst viewers on social decency versus authenticity.

Am I truly the antagonist for embracing bluntness in a culture that veils its criticisms in sweet tea and smiles? Am I a "Karen" in this story?

As a working mom, the need for a reliable childcare provider was paramount, which is why we were thrilled to find a wonderful nanny who bonded beautifully with our son. Initially, to smooth my transition back to work, we decided it would be a good idea for both grandmothers to spend some time with our son alongside the nanny. This plan, however, did not unfold as expected.

My mother-in-law, although she loves her grandson dearly, seems to have a challenging relationship with our nanny. It's become apparent that she's somewhat dismissive of the nanny's expertise, often undermining her by insisting on her own methods of feeding and handling the baby. Despite her good intentions, her approach sometimes compromises the baby's safety, which is unnerving. More importantly, she is prone to taking the baby to other parts of the building without notifying the nanny, adding to the stress. Her visits are also significantly longer than expected, stretching to almost a full day.

Today, upon returning from work while my husband was away, I found our nanny visibly upset, which is entirely out of character for her. She confided in me that she finds the dynamic with my mother-in-law too distressing and it's affecting her ability to work effectively. The nanny admitted that she dreads the days my mother-in-law visits, to the point where she's considering resigning. I was utterly dismayed and assured her that I would address the issue promptly, suggesting a possible adjustment to have my mother-in-law visit only on weekends when we are more available to supervise.

Sharing this situation over the phone with my husband was tough. I emphasized the seriousness of the issue, concerned about the possibility of losing a great nanny. The thought of setting boundaries with my mother-in-law is daunting—she hasn't taken well to suggestions in the past. My husband remains optimistic about his mother adapting her behavior, but past attempts suggest otherwise. It's saddening and challenging to see someone who provides care so integral to our family's functioning this unsettled.

I also sense a disconnect with my husband, who has not witnessed these interactions firsthand, making it harder for him to grasp the severity of the situation. He often asks for specific examples of his mother's behavior, which makes me feel like he might think I’m exaggerating the issue.

If this situation were part of a reality show, I imagine the drama and tension would escalate dramatically. Cameras would capture the raw emotions and perhaps the blunt conversations that need to happen. It could either lead to a swift resolution or more likely, amplify the family strain for the audience's intrigue. How would viewers react to seeing such a personal family conflict unfold on screen? Would they take sides or propose different solutions?

Am I being unreasonable to demand that my husband talks to his mother about limiting her visits to weekends? It feels necessary, but he seems to think I'm overreacting.

Incoherent rant because I need to get it out of my mind, for context TLDR I’m a minor (16 now) and I was groomed online by a woman 5 years older than me and I think she is the only person I’m capable of loving because I think horribly of everyone else I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO

I think I will never be able to love anyone aside from predators, it seems I’m somehow OBSESSED with them. I think there is some part of my brain that is biologically wired toward evil, it’s an outdated belief that mental derangement is caused by demonic possession but I think i might be the first true case of an actual demon. I’m incompatible with people who love me (parents, friends), but most notably romantic relationships with people my age, they fill me with so much indescribable misery and just RAGE. I hate how equality feels. I despise my partner, and I would despise them no matter how beautiful no matter how kind no matter how perfect they might be, I’m eternally contemptful. I blame every bad thing that happens in their dysfunctional life on myself, they usually trust me by dumping all of their problems onto me and I see them as burdens, and I see them as weak because of how I’d love to be in their place and feel misery. I need to be in a constant state of mental distress to feel normal or ‘well’, and if I’m not in mental distress, I don’t feel right and I have to manually trigger the distress somehow to confirm my consciousness. But i swear I’m not abusive, I’m perfect on the outside or at least I try my best to be, I say everything that sounds right (I know it’s right because I’m affirmed for it), I act sympathetic even though internally I think such horrible things, I praise people, and I don’t abandon them because I feel bad. As usually the go-to support system, I would hate to imagine what would happen to them if I left, even though i wish for nothing more than them to go ‘poof’ from my life. This is why I think I actually would be better off alone for the health of everyone. Or better yet I’d be better off with her, my groomer, i find that I always wish my partners were her. I wish the normal adults in my life would behave like she did. I’m NEVER angry with her like I am all these people, I’m incapable of it. she feels so wonderful to me despite the horrors she has seen. Every single day I think about her and I feel such a strange pain inside and I wonder why I couldn’t save the only person I’ve ever actually loved and felt I’d anything for. I’d let her do anything to me (I have). somehow, when I was with her, my anger fizzled out like a light sheen of water on a stove. She was a pedophile yes and she was severely mentally ill snd she coerced me into sexually exploiting myself, but somehow I don’t feel anything about that or what she did because otherwise she made me feel so normal and effortlessly elated. However, whenever I think of the fact she either left me, might be inconsolably depressed and drugged up somewhere, or has overdosed and died while I couldn’t do anything about it ( plus I might not ever see her again), I feel such a painful sucking black hole in my chest that I want to die, scream, thrash, sob, and make it stop through any means necessary. I know if she came back into my life everything would be fixed and the intrusive thoughts would stop, she was perfectly imperfect to me. It’s like I’m filling the void with partners my age. im physically there and doing normal affectionate stuff but mentally, I’m in a perpetual state of chasing her and I’m scared because I know I may always be even when I’m 18, and when I’m 20, provided I don’t find a way to swiftly end my life. I think putting me down is the only god given mercy there is in this comical situation. The only other time I can stop my intrusive thoughts is when I’m trading the sacred parts of my body for the attentions of creepy adults. I don’t even find it hot or interesting, I think it’s so extremely grossly nauseating (I was raised to know better, I denounce this as a practice, i morally disagree with and Id stress the danger of them to others) but it’s a mechanical thing I physically have to do to quiet my brain because I miss her so much. If I resist, I start feeling unlike myself and the resentment builds and the mood swings ensue, and the thoughts of this entire rant consume my attention. it only gets worse with time. I feel like an actual sociopath speaking like this. I know how wrong it is I’m not trying to be edgy, but it’s been like this for years . Whenever I try to talk to a therapist I find my mouth never lets me express the true hideous magnitude of these things because it’s like my brain filters it out until I forget how deplorable it is. I don’t think they’ll understand because the problem is these thoughts and feelings exist at all. It’s unbearable. I don’t care if they don’t represent me, I don’t want to go through the torture of experiencing and resisting them all the time . I wish these people allowed me to die because it’s clearly for the greater good. I promised myself I’d do anything if she stayed. I’d still sell my soul to get her back, I would drop everything and run away, so to me this is the cruelest form of torture of all torture. I don’t understand why I’m so evil or what’s possessed me, or what to do I’ve been fighting since I was very young, I was even hospitalized recently, but it NEVER goes away. 🥹🥹 ohhh what is my life. im so sad that I’m like this at the minuscule age of 16 it makes me feel sick to my stomach

i dont get it. like fr why everyone in my family gotta be so mean to me all the time?? i aint even do nothin and still they act like im the worst person in the house. my mom always yellin, my dad dont even look at me half the time, and my brother’s just rude for no reason. i wake up and its already attitude from the second i walk in the kitchen. like, if i ask for something simple like if theres any cereal left, my mom's like “go look yourself” with that tone like she already mad at me for just breathing. why they always act like im the problm?? i swear i try to stay outta the way, i stay in my room most days just chillin or listenin to music but still when i come out its like instant drama.

i be helpin around the house too. i clean my room, i do the dishes even when its not my turn, nd still they find sumthin to complain about. if i put the spoon in the wrong drawer, its like the end of the world or somethin. my dad once told me “you cant do anything right” just cause i forgot to take out the trash one night. like fr?? ONE night. nd he talk to me like i failed at life or sumthin. my brother, don’t even get me started, he be callin me names every chance he gets. annoying, stupid, crybaby... nd my parents don’t say nothing. they just laugh like its funny. well it aint.

sometimes i think maybe i was adopted or somethin, like how else do u explain it? they all so close with each other. laughin at the table, goin out places without me, sharin inside jokes. nd im just... there. invisible. or worse, the target. i tried to ask my mom once, like, why yall always treat me like im the enemy? nd she said “stop makin everything about you.” like, bruh, i only asked cause im tired of feelin like trash in my own house. is that too much?? to want to feel loved in ur own damn family?

school aint much better but at least there, some ppl smile at me. even if they fake, at least they fake nice. at home, i get nothin. no hugs, no “how was ur day,” not even a “good night.” just silence or sarcasm. nd if i say anything back, they say im disrespectful. like sorry for having feelings i guess?? they make me feel like im a burdden. like they’d be better off without me there. nd sometimes, late at night, i start thinkin maybe they're right. maybe i am the problem and dont even kno it. maybe im just broken in some way that makes ppl not wanna be around me.

but then i remember, im just a kid. im only 15. i didnt ask to be here, i didnt choose this family. nd i shouldnt have to beg for basic kindness. im not askin for them to buy me stuff or give me everything i want. i just want respect. some love. someone to say “i see you” instead of makin me feel like a ghost. if i ever become a mom, i swear imma treat my kids like they matter. i wont let them go to bed feelin unloved like i do most nights. i want to break whatever this is, this cycle of meaness that they think is normal.

i dont even kno what to do anymore. talkin dont work, cryin dont help, stayin silent just makes them act like nothin’s wrong. maybe one day i’ll move out and things’ll change. maybe they’ll miss me when im gone. or maybe they wont. maybe they’ll just keep goin like i was never there. all i kno is, i can’t keep holdin all this in forever. it hurts too much. nd im tired of pretendin it dont. so if ur readin this n u ever felt the same way, like ur own family don't even like u... ur not alone. i feel it too. every day. every damn day.

I feel terrible because I'm not spending my day with her. It's a holiday, and we're not going out for drinks or anything. This whole "each of us doing our own thing" thing bothers me, and I don't want it to be this way. I want to be with her, I want to experience things together, kiss her, have sex with her, go out, and do other romantic things. She's a very special girl to me, the one who has won my heart. I met her at the office, but I'm not willing to let things end there; I'm not willing to let her go. She's the one I want to marry. I hadn't planned it at all, but I don't care. I want to build a life with her. Just one touch between us, a light kiss on the cheek, done completely naturally, told me everything, absolutely everything: that she's the one, that she's my soulmate.

I can't imagine a life without her. Personally, I don't care at all what people at the office think. I don't care about our differences, not at all. I don't even care that she has terrible social skills, that she's the most annoying person in the office. I feel like we share something special; we've been through a lot together, and that can't end there. I'm fed up with her seriousness, with that thing that makes her always stand on the sidelines. I know she came to the office with a certain idea, just work, but the answer is no. Our feelings speak of something else entirely. This isn't just work; in fact, there's nothing that connects us, so there's no excuse to say this is just an illusion. What we've experienced is definitely the story of two strangers, no shortcuts, who were drawn to each other, and she certainly didn't want to let it go, and she never did. In fact, no matter what, even if she denies it, even if she hasn't said anything, without a doubt, we're dating, definitely. Nothing has been said, but that's what I feel.

We're dating because our moments together are unique, private, understood only by us, and they fill us in our own way, setting us apart from all the other relationships around us. She's the love of my life, the only one who has truly won me over, the only one with whom I haven't felt the weight of being alone. We're in this together, we've risked everything, facing life's unpredictability. I feel like we don't even need to do anything, just wait for things to happen, like we always have. It's no secret at the office what we have, that I fought against my coworkers' insistence on maintaining a united front, which, to begin with, wasn't really there. I fought for her for something real, something established, something well-built. She protects us, literally, with her life, as if there were no tomorrow, and with everyone else, she keeps them at a distance, at bay, never talking about life's misfortunes. Not with me, though; it's all just pure sweetness. Indeed, to be with her, like me, you have to earn it, you have to face challenges, fears, the fact that she's no longer just meeting expectations, but revealing her feelings.

I think I can say, with all due respect, that I'm crazy about her, that I can't live without her, and I hope this isn't seen as obsession. I mean, I want to say it, I'm fed up with this censorship of language that translates into a normality no one believes in, that instead threatens outbursts of violence. I don't care if they understand it at the office or not, I love her and she's my girlfriend, that's how I see her. In part, I have to admit that I'm extremely happy with how things have turned out with her; I've never felt so special, so cherished, so loved, so valued in my entire life. It's as if we were husband and wife. I really needed to say all of the above to somehow unblock myself regarding those thoughts and settle into the present, under what little agreement there is, which is essentially nothing. I feel that I would never, ever make an agreement with her, and that working with her is dangerous, personally, because you can't have any conflicts with her, otherwise strange things will start happening.

With her, having something like that based on agreements is a recipe for instability. That favoritism, that manipulation, those standards—it's a beautiful thing I'd rather never deal with. I prefer my relationship with her to be discreet, comfortable, intimate, and where I'm allowed to make mistakes, not confined by any standards. I mean, I don't feel pressured by her in any way. In fact, I'm grateful that she has me blocked everywhere right now, because there's no way to make any assumptions about what she expects regarding the treatment, which in fact, after a certain standard treatment from her, she does have certain expectations and it's not crazy to say that she thinks about things that one doesn't.

I can't deny it, to me that girl seems like a danger par excellence. I don't like her at all, and that's why I've preferred a daily relationship, where there's a real, divine, delightful connection, where we feel each other and act with absolute respect, not in a routine intrusion, not in a situation where we're caught between a rock and a hard place, as they do with others. She never tried that with me, and that's precisely why I decided to make this happen, because, in fact, I was tremendously grateful for her respectful, inclusive, and welcoming treatment when I arrived at the office. That definitely couldn't stay that way, and that's why I fought to get to the point I've described. She, I can say from my own perspective, deserved it, and in fact, I'm willing to go as far as she wants. Not just anyone would treat me that way, and in fact, she broke through that mold of distance that others had with me. It was definitely worth it.

The others didn't understand; instead, they chose to take action to distance her from me, considering it an act of manipulation or something like that. It was a game with her feelings, and that's why I stood up to them, to the point that now at the office I feel completely with her, not with any other group, simply setting aside the prejudices that bureaucracy imposes on us. We've overcome many difficulties, and even though the diagnosis was that we would be fired, we categorically refused and are doing everything we can to maintain that stance. The environment doesn't dictate our relationships; we do. The environment doesn't tell us how to be; we do. The days of abandoning our feelings for others to move on with life, thus abandoning them, are over. It happened to us once, not twice. I feel proud to be by his side, to feel that I'm with someone who truly stands up for himself, fully defending his environment, on his own terms, from his own individuality. I foresee a prosperous future between us, because I feel a bond between us, before the world, and therefore one that can endure. A place to rest.

idk what I have done but he was earlier distanced and reply frequency decreases, yesterday we had conversation which he Waited me for a while and we had break. I asked him to give his final decision in the coming Thursday but I had already accepted it as a breakup.

i frustrated at his gay friend who is not interested in him according to my bf but he call late night because his gay friend was having bad time and made me wait.

I'm pissed and trying to move on but his memory pin me down from where I have started and now I hope he gets back and grow out relationship with me together.

Alright, so I'm 39 and trying not to freak out, but it's hard not to feel like something ominous is scribbled across my life's blueprint. could it be the algorithm of stress, or maybe just the faulty wiring in my overthinking brain? the days scrape by and I've got this stupid itch, like a ticker tape in my head whispering "tick-tock, hun, something's coming." you ever stand in the shower and just watch the water swirl down the drain while wondering if you're circling right down with it??? bizarre, right? but seriously, what the hell is this gut-churning sense of doom that just lounges in my living room like it pays rent?

i blame it on the 'midlife crisis' stigma, which surely must be some twisted rite of passage. but i don't own a convertible or an absurdly-priced leather jacket, just a morbid fascination with my own mortality. is there an existential influencer somewhere saying, "and now you'll dread your birthday cake candles"? at this age, you'd think I'd have unlocked some dispassionate wisdom from life's inventory, but nah, feels like i'm playing a video game with a walkthrough written in pencil!!! like howdy, could someone patch this glitch, please? no cheat codes here, just wish I could delete this morose save file, you know?

but here's the thing, if i dust off my therapist's favorite cliches, it's like hitting pause and rebooting with optimism... "change is good!" or that irritating serene vibe of "you've got this." tedious but they might be onto something!!! i mean, statistically, with all the variables, I could live to garden with my grandkids, dodging any hardware bug life throws my way. don't you think it's hilarious how we can be both the protagonist and the heckler in our life’s script? maybe we're all just late-night telethon hosts, presenting dramatic predictions about the apocalypse of our souls. pfft, if i can troubleshoot systems as complicated as my own, enjoying that last cookie guilt-free seems doable enough. maybe, just maybe, this isn't some final destination trailer after all, but just a low-budget pilot for figuring out what it means to really live!

As a woman, I've always been curious about what drives attraction between women sexually. While I'm certainly not an expert, it's something that has lingered in my mind for some time. I suppose that when we talk about attraction, a lot of us immediately think of visual elements - the ones that are evident from afar. It's easy to assume that physical attributes play a significant role in drawing someone's interest after all. However, what if that's only scratching the surface? What about personality traits or emotional connections? There's this nagging doubt in my head questioning whether such abstract components might actually overshadow appearances. After all, there's more to people than just their looks and it seems like there might be emotions at play that we're not fully aware of unless we dive deeper. Then there's this psychological perspective too which perplexes me quite a bit: how do personal experiences influence sexual attractions from one woman to another? I wonder if our own life stories shape whom we're drawn to on an innate level without consciously realizing why certain characteristics are so appealing while others aren't noticed as readily though logic might say they should be. Perhaps answers aren't straightforward since no one's identical even among those with similar orientations making sexuality complex like most things human-related without clear-cut explanations ready-made upon request despite thoughtful discussions surrounding these intimate topics purely because nothing remains static thanks ever-changing circumstances feelings introduce into equations defining endlessly evolving dynamics beyond simple summaries allow insightfully expressed perspectives illuminating nuances accentuating individuality within vast spectrum humanity constitutes.

Hi. My wife and I (both female) will be married for 4 years this summer, together for 9. I have 2 kids from previous relationships, one has a lot of behavioral/learning disabilities. We had enough of our own issues as a couple. But then her mom asked to move in with us. She lived 4 hours away with her boyfriend. I had met her in person I think twice. And this conversation never happened early in our relationship. I had said that my child would likely need to live with me for a long time or forever. But never a mention of her mom. And personally. I was finally in a space I could call my own and do things the way I wanted to. So I really didn’t want her to move in. But she promised it would be temporary. Until she got a job and got on her feet. Maybe just a few months. Which then she asked for a year. And then she asked for her to just stay forever. This placed a big wedge in our marriage. We started couples therapy. Which didn’t help. She threw literal screaming tantrums any time I said how I was feeling and would storm out. She really started to show me how immature she was. Her mom ended up going back home after a month a half. Maybe a week after she went back. She all of a sudden got extremely sick and almost died. My wife was gone for 5 weeks to stay in the hospital with her mom. She left me. And the kids. And her job. For 5 weeks. I understand visiting. I understand feeling scared and sad. But she just up and left and we didn’t matter. When she came back and realized her mom was never going to be ok again. Needing to be on oxygen forever among many other things. She gave me an ultimatum. She said “please don’t make me choose between you and my mom”. It should never be a choice. There should be compromise. But she doesn’t know how to do that. And I should have walked away. But I didn’t. Bc I love her. Now 2 years later. My living room is a hospital room. Every decision that’s made is about her and her mom. I don’t matter. My voice doesn’t matter. No matter how nicely I try to talk to her about anything, she turns it into a fight. Her mom needs a lung transplant. That based on all of her medical conditions, she is very unlikely to be eligible. I feel like a 3rd party in my marriage. I feel like we’re just roommates living in a routine. There’s no. Anything. And I don’t even cry about it anymore. She sleeps most nights on the couch near her mom “in case something happens”. I keep thinking about how much happier. Or at peace. I would be, if I left. Not sure what I’m looking for here. Maybe someone who has gone through something similar. Tell me how I’m feeling is not crazy and selfish. Bc she calls me selfish quite a bit. I’m not allowed to have an opinion that’s different. Her mom came here and everything changed. House rules. The way we do things. It has to all be the way her mom says it’s should be. This is my house. That her mom moved into. Yes she contributes some from her disability checks. But we spend more than double each than her mom spends. And somehow she gets to tell us how to do things. Everything in this house I helped pay for. Not her mom. I didn’t move into her mom’s house. I hate feeling this way. I feel stuck. And sad. Idk. I guess that’s it. Thank you for reading.

what would you do? how would you feel?