Birthday sayings for a pastor

My brother and I both have a bad relationship and I personally can’t stand to even be around him. Unfortunately, we’re both living together with my other siblings at my parents house. The other day he got in my face and wanted to fight me, and I saw this look in his face that made me feel like he wanted to hurt me badly. Today I tried to ignore him and he started commenting on how I always have this dramatic angry face, and that led to him threatening to fight me again. I won’t lie, I have a sharp tongue and can say some hurtful stuff but doesn’t warrant him coming up to my face and looking at me like he wants to kill me. Since then I haven’t felt safe around him but I’m also not gonna let him hurt me if it were to reach that point.
My brother has a history of being a terrible person and being aggressive towards everyone. I’ve seen him get aggressive with my mom, dad, his ex, his own son, my siblings, and nothing is ever done about it. Everyone seems to be terrified of him but somehow we’re all supposed to accept his behavior. He’s even caused my poor mom health issues and trauma. She’s developed this trembling whenever she gets a little upset.
He also recently stole my dad’s truck for a day and threatened to kill himself. I do want to mention that he’s been threatening to kill himself for the last 3 years whenever he’s held accountable for something or whenever he does something shitty. Like recently he showed up with both my nephew and his ex to his own sons birthday party 2 hours late and that’s what led him to disappearing with my dad’s truck for a day.
I personally don’t care what happens to him at this point, and all I want is for all of this to stop, but he continues to terrorize our lives and my family doesn’t know what to do about it anymore

One of my host family doesnt wish me a happy birthday on my birthday. I don’t get any gifts or cake for my birthday at all but they constantly talk about buying a birthday cake for one of their pets like im lowk upset, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe it’s just normal here?😭

In 2019 I was working for a trucking company based out of Houston Texas. To keep it brief... The company was owned by a big time Pastor out of Houston. He hired a man who had multiple million dollar contracts, but he didn't have the trucks or the drivers to fill those contracts. The contract holder was also leasing a truck/trailer at the time, but pretending as though it was his own.
Company owner =FR
Truck owner=WC
Middle man=KT
KT is a long time conman/criminal out of the south. He was in and out of jail for several years when he decided to start truck driving. After a while however he needed more money. He wanted to run his own loads, but needed a truck/trailer. That's when he partnered with WC. WC owns multiple tractor trailer setups and he leases them to many individuals all over the country. He met KT and without prying too much into his past, he leased him a tractor trailer. WC would make a percentage of every load which kept him happy for around 8 months. That's around the time KT met FR at a party or some type of event. He was given an email for contact and in early 2019 he sent his first email to FR's company asking to become a partner, or to make a percentage for every contract he gave to FR, considering he didn't have the trucks or drivers to perform all the contracts he had. FR with dollar signs in his eyes agreed and made him a partner by April 2019.
The contract between them was officially made by FR's company Lawyer and signed in late September 2019. KT started using all of FR's company details, emails, business logos in all of his interactions from then on out. He had a problem however. He was still needing to make money to pay for his contract with WC. He would assign loads to WC's truck and find drivers through craigslist. After a few weeks to a few months of non payment however, all drivers would abandon the truck and he would have to find a new driver. Eventually that became me in October 2019.
I posted a craigslist ad looking for Repower work and KT's secretary emailed me the details. I received a phone call the next morning and I was off from Denver to pick up a loaded tractor trailer sitting in the Cheyenne WY Regional Airport parking lot. I was told the driver had a family emergency and the load was already late so I would be paid a handsome amount to deliver asap. I spent 9 days in the truck delivering 3 loads from Washington state, Boise Idaho, to Salt Lake City and then eventually going down to Gallup New Mexico to hit the I40 to drive the truck back to Houston, where I was told I would meet KT, get paid and be on a paid flight back to Denver. I was eager to get home.
On October 29th 2019 I was asleep in the back of the truck at the Pilot Travel Center in Gallup, New Mexico when I was awoken by a pounding on the passenger door. I was dressed in multiple layers as the truck had run out of fuel the day before. The Comdata Cards weren't working to put fuel in, and I was told it would be solved the following day. It was around 8 degrees outside. I was in a tshirt with my hoodie laying on me, and a pair of sweatpants under my blue jeans to keep warm. When I finally crawled to the front of the truck to open the door I was greeted by a Glock pointing at my head and told to slowly exit the truck keeping my hands up. I did as the Trooper commanded. After a brief search of the truck for damage (I had the key fob), and after showing the Bill of Ladings printed with my name and signature on them I was informed I was receiving a Felony for Possession of a Stolen Vehicle. After being "Frozen Out" to admit fault (I was ordered to stand in front of the Troopers cruiser for 2 hours in 8 degrees as he was trying to get me to admit to stealing the vehicle) I was then cuffed and brought back to the sub station for further questioning and filing. I was told everything from how stupid I was for taking the job after telling my side of the story, all the way to how I should've made my father (a 33 year retired officer) run the plate on the truck to check if it was reported stolen before getting in. Which doesn't make sense, when the truck was reported stolen THAT NIGHT.
WC was getting worried about his equipment not being insured by him, but by FR's company. He demanded his truck back on October 27th and was told by KT and FR they had NO KNOWLEDGE of any such truck. He reported it stolen the afternoon of the 29th and it was tracked by on star to my location where I was arrested. After being interrogated at the sub station and sitting handcuffed to a bench in a cell for 2 hours while the Trooper wrote his report (which just spoke about how he received a call, went directly to me, arrested me and had me in custody now.) I was then transported to McKinley Country Correctional Facility where I spent a hellish 42 hours locked in with 33 other inmates. The toilet system would backup and flood the cell soaking everyone laying on our mats with feces and urine. The food provided was absolute garbage not fit for any living person. A new inmate stole cuffs off an officer and showed everyone after a couple hours and threatened people. We also had an inmate come down from the pods (a convicted murderer there for another trial) after threatening to kill a known Ped upstairs. He was found strangling him and until they figured things out he was transported down to us. He laid down right behind me. I couldn't eat the food so I gave it to him having tupperware. He actually gave me my only phone call using his key code for the phone in the cell. My Dad told me they were bailing me out very shortly.
My bailbondsman arrived at 11pm Halloween night after taking his kids to get candy. I was taken to a motel room down the street. We stopped for my first real meal... taco bell. I was just happy to be out of there, but I ended up throwing up several time in my room and I couldn't sleep for a few days.
-Fast forward to December. My case was dismissed in pretrial.
-Fast forward to May 2020 the lawyer who took my case in Gallup in December to help me sue the State Troopers dropped me. You can see his bill boards EVERYWHERE in Gallup, NM.
-I found a new lawyer in Denver who believed me and started filing.
-We received correspondence from FR's lawyer saying he never met KT, has no knowledge of WC or the truck in question and to leave him alone.
-2 years later (FR is still saying he never knew anyone) in August 2022 we received partial discovery. FR's email. He was ordered to type in KT's name in the history bar and over 200 emails popped up. Everything from their contract created by FR's lawyer to emails such as...
"KT! You're a very very smart man. Now let's make you a VERY VERY RICH MAN!"
-Early 2023 WC settles with us and says he would be a witness for me in trial. The State Trooper received Qualified Immunity. KT still hasn't been found. FR offers a 10k settlement. We decide to go to trial.
-late 2023 we have another meeting in Houston, Tx to discuss a settlement at the court house. I am met by FR himself who was not supposed to be there. He's limping on a cane. Never made an apology. They up their settlement to 100k. I'm still wanting to go to trial, but the mediator who is the 2nd judge at the courthouse all but tells me I won't win a GD thing if I go, because of the "Good ole' boy" system in Houston. He said no matter how I feel about what happened, I'm a white veteran truck driver who got arrested... Nobody gives a sh*t and they are going to see to that.
-After 6 hours and being literally counted down by the mediator from 10 to 0 I accepted the offer.
-I started making Reno911 style Bodycam footage to help me get over things mentally. Some have received over a million views. I now live in Long Beach California.
-KT was and still has never been found. FR is still a pastor at a major church in Houston. I don't know anything about WC. The state trooper is in the news almost every other week for arresting DUI drivers in Gallup.
AMA

This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

I’m going through the entire Bible for the first time.
I’m in Genesis, and I must admit, I’m est really confused. Here’s a few reasons:

1. The numeric values of peoples ages, when they became fathers, when they had kids, how old their kids were, etc - I’m just struggling to understand the value of why this information is included in biblical text? From my perspective, it seems like non-value adding content. For example, see the first few paragraphs of “from Shem to Abram” in Genesis 11.
   
2. See Genesis 6: 5-8. I’m reading the NIV version of the Bible. On 2 accounts in the above text, the word “regret” is used. I’m failing to wrap my head around God having regrets. I’ve looked at God as the all knowing, all wise, the only one aware of the past, present, and future. Regrets come from mistakes or matters one wish they could change. I don’t believe the all knowing or all wise would have regrets or wish they could change things, as that contradicts the characteristics mentioned.
   

Surely when God created human he knew what humans would do.
I recall many Christian lectures where the pastor was talking about God knowing YOU before you were even born. He orchestrated your life, etc.
How can God have regrets and regret making humans on earth?

1. The great flood occurred to wipe out the wickedness and restart. I’m held up here for 2 reasons:

A — Jesus came after the great flood to save the world. He’d only need to save the world if things went off track again. They did. But then is it correct to say the flood didn’t serve its purpose?
B — one may argue there is more violence in this world following the death of Jesus than before Jesus or before the great flood. If God stepped in to cleanse the world with the flood thousands of years ago, why not cleanse it again?
I write these questions to not debate religion. I recently accepted Christ in my life due to searching for God for many years and Jesus presented himself to me after sincere prayer.
I ask these questions as I want to know more about God, biblical text, and increase my knowledge. Please know, I ask these questions with great respect and hunger for an understanding.

Married going on 4 years now no affection from my husband, no gifts for Christmas, Birthdays or just random (guessing junk food counts to him even though I am trying to stay healthy) I think I am just here to split the bills, clean and take care of our pets. I’m exhausted, therapy didn’t help much he “changes” then when things look okay to him, he’s back to what he used to do. Video games and youtube…no effort to make time for us even if it’s just an hour. I have been isolating myself lately because I don’t have energy for anything. I take on a lot of tasks but he gets to be stressed on his ass because the tasks at work are too much for him to do anything else. I am a project manager so I know all about stress and unrealistic expectations…but my duties don’t stop when I am sick, depressed or tired. I still have to cook, clean and pay bills. He convinces me to stay but I don’t think my feelings are in it anymore I am just on autopilot and stuck. It’s true what they say, domestic abuse will keep you because you’re too chicken to leave. I am experiencing the emotional side of it withholds love if I do something wrong but gets upset when I tell him what hurts my feelings or what is wrong. Its only been 4 years…

Although I certainly hoped there would be more to celebrate than a birthday and a ballot stuffer, here are the final results:
Third place: Renora defeated Nuts & Dolts
Championship: White Knight defeated Knightlight
Here is the final bracket.
For those of you who didn't see yesterday's comments, there was proven vote stuffing on the part of White Knight to manipulate the previous two rounds, making this a hollow victory at best.
Final thoughts will be posted tomorrow, as I'm still gathering evidence on the stuffing incident, but suffice to say a Ship Wars 8if will take place this fall to crown a more "legitimate" champion.

Myrtle Beach SC News article dated May 15, 2024
Documents Invalid & A.I. Endorsement
FOR REDDITORS UNABLE TO OPEN LINKS
Mica Miller mental health documents not legally notarized
Members of Attorney Tom Winslow’s team sent us a statement that legal medical filings surrounding the Mica Miller mental health issues were not legally notarized.
Mica Miller died of what has been ruled a suicide at Lumber River State Park on April 27th. The FBI is now investigating the case.
Suicide Claims, Mica Miller Mental Health Records, And Notary Issues
Despite the fact Pastor JP Miller admitted from the pulpit to being suicidal in October 2023, just two months later JP was able to receive a health care power of attorney from Mica signed Dec. 5. Tom Winslow, of Winslow Law, was the attorney that orchestrated this legal filing.
Texts received by MyrtleBeachSC News show that Power of Attorney documents were supposedly signed by Mica Miller on December 4th at the Solid Rock church. However, those documents were not notarized by Winslow Law employees (Briyana and Tiffany) until the next day at Winslow’s law office.
According to the S.C. Secretary of State, a notary must be present at the actual signing of such documents to prevent fraud.
Two months later, according to the Myrtle Beach Police Department, Mica was “involuntarily hospitalized” on Feb. 8, 2024. But what makes the case even more odd is that JP’s power of attorney documents were not filed until March 20, 2024, despite having been signed and notarized three months prior.
Is Tom Winslow An Expert At Artificial Intelligence - Deep Fake Voice Audio?
Today, we report on Tom Winslow A.I. claims as he touts the importance of A.I. in his law practice. At the bottom of this article, readers can view terrifying texts sent out by J.P. Miller to Mica in November 2022.
We recently published that Pastor JP Miller, and his attorney, Tom Winslow were persons of interest in the Mica Miller “Suicide” FBI probe. Some readers questioned how we could report this with such confidence at that time.
We need to point out that Tom Winslow and JP Miller are not charged with any crimes, and even if they should be, they are considered innocent until proven guilty.
JP Millers Documented Sexual Encounters
According to DailyMail: “Miller’s first wife, Alison, filed for divorce in 2015 after discovering he was having an affair with Mica, who was 14 years his junior.” Alison also claimed that “Miller had an addiction to prostitutes and had ‘sexual encounters’ with underage girls.” She continued, “He had also confessed to me and other staff members of the church that he had sexual encounters with young females from the church, who were under the age of 16.”
The lawyer representing JP Miller in his first divorce case was S.C. State Representative Val Guest.
Mica's Statements About Suicide
Mica’s sister, Sierra Francis, said, “Mica stated to me on many occasions, ‘If I end up with a bullet in my head’, it was JP,” referring to her husband, John Paul Miller. In a written affidavit, Seirra writes, “I know my sister to have expressed the abuse and violence against her by her husband to others, including family members and members of the church congregation. My sister also expressed to me that she was fearful that she would not make it to the divorce and that her life would be taken from her.”
JP Miller Attorney Tom Winslow A.I Endorsement
In the video above, Tom Winslow touts that his law practice is an advocate for the use of Artificial Intelligence. Winslow makes it a part of his practice.
Winslow is a member of Solid Rock Church. His wife is part of the praise team.
Also, as we reported yesterday, Attorney Tom Winslow owns 200 acres of land that backs up to the state park area where Mica’s body was found.
All of this is circumstantial, at best, but it is also very curious.
*The Call Made By Mica At Lumber River State Park?
Mica wrote to her attorney: “Since the day we became husband and wife, I have been abused in every way I can think of. Emotionally, sexually, spiritually, financially and physically. He has harassed me physically and electronically with letters, phone calls, emails and texts, hacking my emails, hacking my personal Facebook and impersonating me. Using my stolen phone to send texts and emails out to church members pretending to be me, texting friends and family saying that I am sleeping with teenagers from our church, and showing up in person at places around town … to having installed three different tracking devices on my vehicle.”
MyrtleBeachSC News learned that JP was in possession of a mobile phone he had stolen from Mica. Anyone who has left an outgoing, “I am not available now” message on their phone, knows that a recorded version of her voice was likely on that mobile phone.
According to the Robeson County Sherriff, at 2:54 p.m., a 911 call was made from Lumber River State Park parking lot.
Miller is calm throughout the call, asking a dispatcher if her phone can be tracked. The operator asks for Miller’s phone number and location, and then why she was calling.
“I’m about to kill myself, and I just want my family to know where to find me,” she replies.
How Deep Fake A.I. Voice Works
Was the Tom Winslow A.I. knowledge put to use in this matter?
Audio Capture And Signal Processing
The first step in AI voice recognition is audio capture. This is where the spoken words are recorded.
The audio is then processed to remove any background noise. This ensures that the system can clearly hear the spoken words.
Signal processing also involves enhancing the quality of the audio. This makes it easier for the system to recognize the speech patterns.
Pattern Recognition And Machine Learning
Pattern recognition is the core of AI voice recognition. It’s the process of identifying the spoken words in the audio signal.
Machine learning plays a crucial role in this process. It helps the system learn and improve its ability to recognize speech patterns.
Over time, the system becomes more accurate. It learns to understand different accents, dialects, and even nuances in speech.
Real-World Examples Of Deep Fake A.I.
AI voice recognition is not a futuristic concept. It’s already a part of our daily lives.
You may have interacted with it without even realizing. It’s present in many devices and applications we use every day.
Miller Says Church Services Are As Usual
In a social media post yesterday, Miller states, “Solid Rock is alive and well and we are moving forward with our new building project. We are excited to see all members at our meeting May 19th at 5 p.m.
The FBI is just starting this investigation and no one knows where it will lead. The Tom Winslow A.I. practices may only prove to be circumstantial. The Mica Miller mental health records are sure to play a roll in this saga. Time will tell where this leads.
Question: Were Public Posts Like This One From JP Miller Abusive?
Miller, pastor at Solid Rock Church in Myrtle Beach, told his sister-in-law that he would be arriving at her house at 1 a.m. on November 17, 2022, where Mica was visiting.
After Sierra warned that he wouldn’t be allowed in their home, he challenged her, saying ‘you can call the cops’.
A few moments later, he replied: “I’m armed. I’m ready. Mica can fix all of this“, to which Sierra replied: “THIS doesn’t help anything. Threats and intimidation only make things worse.”
‘I don’t care (idc) Driving. I can’t text. Thanks.’ said the disgraced pastor.
In response, Miller replied, “Hahaha” when told cops wouldn’t be called if he stayed home.

My boyfriend(28M) and I(26F) have been dating for 5 years and we've lived together for over a year. I'm worried that because we are around each other all the time, the romantic element has faded and I'm struggling to feel loved/special to him. He was once markedly more excited by me and I've started to really feel taken for-granted in the relationship, but I can't tell if I'm just being too demanding/needing too much right now.
Besides the typical sentiments in heterosexual relationships where I feel like I do most of the cleaning, etc., I've also planned really cute/well thought-out dates for us (catered specifically to HIS interests) and I feel like he doesn't do the same in return. Honestly, I don't know when the last time was that he planned literally anything for us was, and I don't know if he has ever planned a single date for us outside of going to dinner. Is it too high of an expectation to want more? To him, a date means going out to get drinks or dinner, but this doesn't feel romantic or special to me anymore. I've given him plenty of very specific date ideas that would mean a lot to ME (I don't 'take him out' on these dates, because these ideas are catered to my specific interests, not his), but he hasn't taken the bait on a single idea. In general, I feels like he puts almost no effort into caring about my interests, even though I always participate in his, which in turn makes me feel like he is not truly interested in me? But am I taking that too personally?
When we do go out to dinner, I'll usually get all dolled up and I feel really confident/pretty, and what can I say, I expect to be hyped up by my partner and I just feel like I'm not. Last time we went on a date I got dolled up and he did too. He saw me and told me "You look nice" and then he decided to dress down to a more casual outfit... I didn't know how to interpret that... and I ended up feeling insecure for the rest of the date. In general, one of my biggest love languages (for receiving) is words of affirmation and he is not a man of many words so I really struggle with this aspect. I've told him that one of the easiest ways to be romantic and make me feel special, without needing to plan out a date or anything, would be to write me a cute love letter. He has written me maybe 1 love letter ever, but I had to beg for it so it didn't feel genuine and I can't help but want some more genuine/spontaneous displays of affection. As I write this I'm even questioning, why am I so obsessed with feeling this "special"? Am I asking too much? I just feel like he should be trying to make me feel special the way I know I try with him? For example, on his birthday I spent hours baking and then setting up our apartment overnight with streamers and balloons to make him feel loved and celebrated, yet on mine, he complained about doing things he didn't want to do and gave me a bday card with a couple sentences on it (even though, as I've established, I want a whole love letter haha).
Even when we make love, I want it to truly feel like making love. I want him to make me feel hot, sexy, wanted, and I want it to feel like he is trying to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for us both. Without getting too detailed, he will actually try to make me come maybe 20% of the time. The rest of the time, it's usually just a quickie centered around him, he might go down on me but not for long lol.
I've talked to him about all of this for months and he always acts super sympathetic and loving, he says loves me he will try, but I don't ever actually see any effort being put in even though he's been saying so for months? Is there anything else I can do at this point, or any way I can better express myself? I'm hoping this all makes sense... but basically I've really started to doubt my own expectations and whether I'm the problem in this situation.
TLDR; the romantic element of our relationship has faded from his side, causing me not to feel loved, and he is not showing any real effort to fix anything even though he keeps saying he'll 'try'...nothing changes. I've been trying to take the lead on these efforts to show him an example of what I want. How would you dial up the romance in a relationship? Are my wants reasonable or do I just need therapy?

On my sister’s 21st birthday. She came up to me (F/17) and tried to give me a hug. I declined and my mother yelled at me calling me a bitch and trying to force me to hug her.
I am not close to my sister at all. When we were younger she molested me several times and I didn’t realize what was going on out until I was 14 and she was 18. I didn’t tell anyone until my mother called me a bitch in front of everyone. I pulled her aside into her bedroom and explained that my sister did some very messed up things to me and I don’t like being touched by her. My mother apologized and told me she understands. Nothing really happened after that. In my every day life I was cleaning up after my sisters huge messes, cooking food for everyone, and basically just doing everything. All while most of the food I made got throw away by my sister but If I got upset or didn’t make her food I’d still be the bad guy.
Eventually I brought it up to my dad. I honestly thought that he would be my protector but boy was I wrong… he denied that I was molested and said that what she did wasn’t even molest and that there was nothing he could do. He took no action and said nothing to defend me. I even told him that she did gross stuff to herself whenever she shared a bed with anyone. He spit in my face by saying “oh well at least she never shared a bed with me” and laughed it off. He didn’t care at all about me.
I don’t recall what led up to this but I confronted my mom eventually and told her over text the reason the dogs pee on the couch is to cover the scent of my abusive sister because she pisses and poops herself on furniture while wearing diapers. (She openly admitted this to everyone btw and threw away a poopy pissy diaper and also she makes the couch smell horrible) my mom came in screaming at me. I grabbed her by her shirt when she tried to block me from leaving the room and told screamed at her that that stupid bitch molested me. (Which she also denied it being molest when I explained what she did but it was DEFINITELY molest it just wasn’t rape… and apparently it needs to be rape for it to be serious)
My mother then told me if I don’t feel safe here then I can go live with my grandma. I said okay and left a few days later. My mom then talked about me behind my back telling my brother that I’m ungrateful and that I’m selfish for leaving and trying to get attention. I was only there for a few days and returned “home” I came back because I missed my cat and dogs and I knew my cat wouldn’t be getting enough socializing as I’m her mom. I’m still seen as a villian. And to top it off my sister had a friend over who was a total crackhead and I had my mom tell her to go home. She did. The next day the crazy bitch came running towards me aggressively in the road because she thought I was alone. I wasn’t my brother and my friend were behind me and when she saw them she left. My sisters explaination made it more clear she intended to hurt me. I am 5’2 and weigh 95 lbs. I’m extremely skinny and I have long hair. My sister is 5’ and weighs 250 lbs she has short hair. She claims her friend thought I was her.. I was wearing a tank top at the time to top it off...
When she got home I confronted her about this and that was her explanation. So I snapped. I screamed at her calling her a fat fucking pig. She freaked out screaming at me and left. Eventually she came back ready to punch me. My friend who is 6’3 was standing behind me when she put her fist up and she froze realizing shed probably get killed.
..tbh things are much worse now for different reasons but I’m scared to share more yet. I turn 18 on June 12th I might update then or when I move out idk. Maybe even before it depends.

My birthday was on Sunday, I went to work and then went and got a new tattoo (I love it so much lol.) That was pretty much it for the actual day but on Monday I met up with my friends (M and his girlfriend N) at a restaurant for my birthday. Immediately I saw M reused the bag that I used for his birthday (I thought it was funny and I will definitely be using it for N's birthday now lol.)
Then we go in, sit down and order. Then they start asking me about my gifts and when I'll open them so I grabbed a stuffed dino out the bag. Immediately noticed it was heavy and I thought it was weighted but they told me it was a jar and I could open it. So I did. It was weed lmfao, I opened a jar of weed in the middle of a busy restaurant lol. Panicked and put the lid back on as fast as I could while I was laughing about the no warning lol.
We get our food, we're talking and laughing and shit, no other oopsies so far until it was cake time. They brought in a cheesecake for me cause yummy. M goes to slice it, he's doing great, then he tries to put the slice on a plate and drops it on the table. N and M both get it on the plate and N hands it to me straight face and says happy birthday. M and I died laughing. I thought it was fucking hilarious, I was crying cause I was laughing so hard. Just the straight face happy birthday after dropping it on the table was so funny to me.
But yeah honestly that was pretty much it, simple but I think that's the hardest I've laughed in a while and this has definitely been my best birthday by far lol

I don't really know why I'm writing this ... I think it's because I've tried to explain it to my uncle but all he said is that I should get my addiction under control and stop forgetting to take my meds.
I can't blame him. You see... I have a history. I've lost it in the past , twice actually. I'm not here to talk about it , but I think it's important to lay this down first. So you can understand.

I've been told something's wrong with my brain, maybe I was born this way, maybe I've been through too much. That my mother was an addict, she'd cut ties with her family for 10 years when she had me. That where she had been and who my father was, is was very unclear. She was part of a community in the forgotten part of the nearest big city when she died. I was there when it happened.
My uncle Sean and Aunt Maggie became my guardians just before my 5th birthday and I'm still with him 20 years later. Maggie left the ranch a few weeks ago after an amicable divorce, I never understood why they were together anyway she was always working somewhere, traveling a lot. I was closer to him and his sturdy way of life.

When I first arrived at the ranch, I was in a bad shape. I got better thanks to him but when I reached thirteen, all the memories from my early childhood suddenly came back. I started having flashbacks. My memories came back, but they came back wrong.

I had been told that my mother had died of an untreated infection. Yet in my dreams, I saw her , again and again , in a pool of blood. An then... Then it came. The... Thing. I won't describe it. It kind of triggers something in me that I really don't need right now.

I've been told that what happened next was so traumatic that my brain made up a monster, a fiction , to make sense of what I was seeing and not processing.
This ... Thing started obsessing me and during my early teenage years I focused all my energy on finding what it was and proving it happened. That a monster did kill and mutilated my mother. My nightmares were so bad that I stopped sleeping. I drank so much energy drinks that I ended up in the hospital twice with severe dehydration.

Thankfully, I got better. I started working more and more with my uncle's horses. I think it's why he employed me, he saw how manual work and caring for the animals helped. I even got my first girlfriend around my 17th year. I was prom king. Who would have thought?
But then... She had a cheerleading accident. In front of me. And I lost it again. I won't go into details but she broke her neck during half-time and once again... The way she fell, folded and screamed. I couldn't process. It was IT. It'd shapeshifted to get to her. I'm ashamed of it but I became violent. Looking for it franticly. Screaming non sense and talking made up words. I had to be sedated. She made it alive, but she never wanted to see me again. I was accused by pretty much everyone to make the accident all about myself. And they were kind of right....

Now you know how I came to be the " crazy" guy. I have a bit of a drinking problem too to be honest... You see I never went back to high school. I started working full time at the ranch when I came by, and sometimes, it gets lonely. It's not rare to find me passed out in the hay in the early morning in the summer. And what can I tell you... I know I shouldn't. I know it's "bad" . But I love those nights. I put music , cuddle with my dog and just look at the cold bright stars, drinking beer until they start spinning.

It's because of this bad habit that I realized something was wrong with the horses. You see, contrary to the movies, horses are pretty silent. They don't neigh unless you separate them from their best mate or bring food. And that night... The night it all started. They wouldn't stop. I could hear them galloping and snorting. I wondered if there was a stray dog but they were used to dogs. I was a bit worried. Horses get stupid when they are afraid and we had a big show coming, it wasn't the time so sprain a leg. What really troubled me was my dog. He seemed ... Weird.
Max was a pit mix my uncle had rescued when I was 15. He only woke when I got up and walked a bit to look at the paddocks. That's when I realised the moon behind me. It was huge, and red. I wondered if I had ever seen it so close and so red before. I looked at Max The white of his eyes showed and he started whining. I had never heard him make this noise. Ever.

I looked at my phone. It was quarter to three. I took a pitchfork to be safe and walked toward the clubhouse. We kept a shotgun there in a locker. The horses kept going crazy and max's tail was stiff. I was walking fast but carefully in the darkness when the music reached me. A chant. A low chant. I kind of felt it too... Like a ... vibration.
It was coming from the yearlings field near the forest patch, on the opposite direction of the clubhouse. My horse was in this field. I backtracked immediately and rushed toward the sound as I dialled my uncle. Off course he didn't answer. He didn't live on the property anymore but a few miles away. I left a message, whispering. " I'm at the stable, something weird ‘s happening. I think they're people messing with horses I'm going to see. I think you should come , I don't know...Call me back.". The weird chant buzzed in the background, louder, as if more people had joined. I saw the glow of the fire before I passed the last building. It rose , under the bloody moonlight. Dark figures circled around it. Slowly. The horses seemed to have retreated at the other end of the pasture and I was relieved. Until I saw it. The figure at the centre of this dark carousel. " What the f are those creeps doing" escaped my lips.
blazing fury filled me , like a white iron like a white hot blade blinding me . "HEYYYY" I screamed at the top of lungs. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING !? ". The figures stopped and turn toward me. I was running now , my knuckles going white around the pitchfork's stick. Max was growling. A deep growl. His hair high upon his backbone. The figure, still pretty far did not move. I could see their heavy hooded cloaks. " what kind of sick pricks are those " I muttered. " HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY" I screamed again, louder than I ever thought I could scream. And then I saw him. Gun.
Gun was my uncle's favourite horse. His old stallion's spitting image. The young horse was lying in front of the fire behind the intruders.
"WHAT DID YOU DO! I'M CALLING THE COPS!!!!". I stopped and was dialling when a figure detached itself from the group and advanced. It seemed to ... float? It moved toward Max and I... so silently.
The burning rage in veins turned cold , and heavy. I opened my mouth but nothing crossed my lips. Suddenly, Max jumped. He growled in a way I hope to never hear any dog do again. A desperate, furious growl. A life or death sound. A war cry... His warm blood spattered on my face. He... Honestly I don't know what happened at that moment. Something lied bloody on the ground but I couldn't even have told that it used to be a dog, even less Max. Acid tears filled my eyes as I realized my mouth was still open. I was tasting him.
I wanted to scream, to run, to just get swallowed by the earth and yet I did nothing at all but stare at the floating silhouette. It was so tall. " Come, my child". " We were waiting for you, we knew you'd come, Your father told us you'd be here when we'd call".
I heard those words, but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about the thing who spoke them. I say thing because it didn't have a voice. It... Buzzed. Like... a cello.
Suddenly... I floated too. Panick seized me. Like a trapped raccoon in my
chest it dug its claws, scratching furiously my closed throat.
" Your father said you were ready. We will prepare you." I was now in front of the crackling blaze. the other figures circling me. Smiling Men and woman welcomed me. On their faces they all wore a similar mark. a cross covering their eyes horizontally, and their nose and mouth vertically. Their hands... Their hands were still dripping with gun's inside. Gun... Was ... opened.
" A necessary sacrificed" whispered a woman, still smiling. " I know you liked him very much... I'm sorry..." " I could have taken yours, but I knew you wouldn't have forgiven me'. Her voice. .." Aunt Maggie?' I croaked. Her eyes shone with a mad light. " Gosh do you look like your mother tonight... She'd be so proud. Her baby boy..." .
The tall figure made a gesture and I spined and found myself looking at the sky. I thought I'd fallen but... I wasn't touching the ground...
My aunt continued speaking." She was just like you the first time ... So... naive, so afraid.. She was only 16! That was our mistake you see, she wasn't ready for her destiny yet when she joined us... That's why we waited for you."
The chant , the low buzzing chant rose once again. The people around me started walking in a circle around me. I was just above Gun's body.
One, by one, they buried they hands in the belly of the horse and traced the cross on my face. I sealed my lips as tight as I could as the warm blood covered my face. Through the blood and tears I recognize faces. A nurse from the hospital. A teacher. The coffeeshop barista. My psychiatrist... I closed my eyes.
It was a nightmare. It couldn't be anything but a nightmare.
Yet the smell of the horse's inside and the crackling fire still reached me as they started ripping my clothes off.
" This is not real" I whispered. " This is not real, this is not real THIS IS NOT real" I screamed weakly.
'Oh , My dear I'm so sorry ' whispered my aunt. I should have told you earlier... But Dr Carter said it was better to let you grow up a bit first. He said it help you keep the secrets if you were afraid of them. I'm sure you don't feel this way, but it was an honour to watch your mother ascend the way she did. Her agony was the most beautiful thing she could have hoped for. You were supposed to ascend with her but she ruined it". " Slut" groaned a middle aged woman before spitting on the floor.
" She was my best friend you know... I thought I knew her. I thought I could trust her. But she lied to me."
"You see, we know you are his son. But... She wasn't a virgin when she was honoured."
She smiled. " It doesn't matter how cruelly she tricked us. You can help us find the perfect girl."
One by one, each member traced a symbol on my skin.
" You're so handsome... He'll be so glad. The perfect boy. The perfect vessel."
"It's almost time, Prepare" hissed the tall figure.
" You're going to give him his heir, the one ruler among the realms. You see he can't travel here whenever but you're an anchor my love. Each generation he choses an anchor until he finds one who'll give him THE son, the one who'll die for his freedom. Our freedom."
"QUIET SLAVE AND KNEEL" shrieked the tall figure.
She kneeled right near me, and whispered " You're...". I heard a slash. Aunt Maggie’s face slid horizontally. Her eyes followed me as the upper part of the face slid slowly toward the ground.
" HAIL THE PRINCE".
A chant, colder and louder than never before rose with the crackling flames toward the moon.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! » chanted the disciples."
Frozen, I watched the blazing sky above and saw a door. A perfect wooden door , in the sky. It slowly cracked open as the crowd turn to hysterics and the chant turned to mad screams.
"MY SOOOOOOOON" The whole earth seemed to split open under the weight of the sound coming from the perfect rectangle of empty darkness in the sky.
And then... I saw... I saw what I had tried to forget for twenty-years. I saw those split red eyes and their evil glare. I saw the iron hooves at the end of too many legs. I saw the tentacles who fled my mother with their thousand beaks. Everything all at once, I saw it shift, from an odious form to a more loathsome one. I burned in a way I'll never be able to describe.
I woke up two weeks ago in the nearest hospital. I was found on the ground, surrounded by the yearlings, the corpse of gun and some remains of Max. My uncle explained to me that I had found a bear feasting on Gun, that Max must have attacked it and I'd fainted or been knocked out trying to scare it away. Laying lifeless had saved me. I didn't speak of what I saw at the hospital. I knew better now. I've tried to explain to my uncle why I had to move out to the big city. That I had a mission now. That I had never been crazy and that I shouldn't have been afraid.
I know now that I'm blessed. You see he thinks I'm just having another episode, that it’s a "manic" episode and I should go back to the clinic, but I know better now. I am special. I am. And he can be too. Anyway... He'll be whether he joins or not. You'll all be. Because he is coming. He 'll bless us all. Because you see, I know I can find her and I'll give him the perfect door. A door to let him in. A door to let all of him in. He'll honour us all, all at once.
" Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young! »

so basically my roommates are graduating on my birthday, and i've been living with them for about 1 and 1/2 years. i would say we're pretty close and do a lot of things together: share meals and clothes, go on weekend trips together, and go out together. i work the closing shift friday-sunday every weekend so i feel like i can't plan anything on the weekend to do anything for my birthday. I just wanted to do a dinner with my roommates on my actual birthday just to do a small celebration with the. it turns out that on my birthday (also their graduation date) they are all going out to dinner with their families together. i really don't want to be alone on my birthday, so i asked if i could tag along and pay for my own meal just so i could have company and wouldn't be alone at the apartment since i would be the only one home. apparently the restaurant they chose has a 1,000 minimum spend limit if they have a party of 13 or more. so since i would be the 13th invite they decided not to tell me altogether, until i asked them if they wanted to go to dinner on my birthday. i get that it's a lot to spend but we live in an area with a lot of good restaurants. i'm not gonna ask them to rearrange their plans because i don't want to be selfish and they are celebrating a huge achievement it's just that i don't like my birthday that much because things like this usually happen and usually it's just me and my family- except this year my family won't be coming down to visit me so i can't rely on them this year. i know i can celebrate on a different day but i just wanted to do something on my actual birthday this year and not feel alone. my birthday is next week and i'm already dreading it and have just been sad ever since i found out that i wasn't invited to my all of my roommates graduation dinner because i thought we were close am i overreacting?

She greeted him with lips and an open mouth before he’d managed to shut the front door; a welcoming home he hadn’t received since they were still dating. The surprise assault nearly caused Mark to stumble backward into the hallway, but he recovered and returned the embrace in kind, relishing the feeling of her body and tongue against his. As she pulled away, he thought he detected a faint aftertaste on her breath—something unnatural hidden underneath, an earthy flavor that reminded him of potting soil. The taste was gone as soon as it had come, and he forgot about it in short order.
“Welcome home, babe,” Tracy said with a smile, and he smiled back.
“Well, that was nice,” he said, while his brain scrambled to attribute any significance to this day, a forgotten birthday or anniversary or any reason at all for the enthusiasm he’d been welcomed home with. He came up empty, conceded defeat and said, “What was that for?”
“I’ve just missed you, is all. I’m glad you’re home.” She was still smiling, her green eyes drinking him in like sunflowers in the first light of the morning. She waited for him to remove his shoes, then took his hand and pulled him into the warm glow of the kitchen and kissed him again in a fervent reminder of their youth. The taste was stronger this time; he thought it familiar but couldn’t place it. Bad breath, perhaps.
They passed through the kitchen into the dark of their living room, lit only by the cool white of the television. An old rerun of Tracy’s favorite sitcom was on, filling the room with bombastic voices and the intervallic laughs of a live studio audience. Mark jumped at the unexpected sight of a figure sitting on the couch—a woman with hands in her lap and an upright posture, her eyes glued to the TV without so much as an acknowledgment of their presence. Her face was a blank slate.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you Shelby is here,” Tracy said, motioning to her sister. “She wanted to come over and hang out for a while. Her husband has been fucking their underage neighbor. She walked in on them today.”
This tactless and matter-of-fact proclamation shocked Mark almost as much as the news itself. “Oh, Shelby, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Have you talked to the police yet?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracy said, waving an apathetic hand before sitting opposite her sister on the couch and patting the spot between them, grinning. “We’re all just going to relax and have a good time right now. Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Mark shifted on his feet but relented and walked over to sit. When he did, Tracy scooted over to him and put a hand on his thigh, whispering in his ear while lightly brushing his cheek with soft lips. It was something she knew he liked, at least when they were alone.
“Don’t you want to have a good time with me?” She said, planting a slow, deliberate kiss in front of his ear, following it up with a dab of her tongue. Her cool breath carried a strange smell to his nose, and the hair on Mark’s arms stood up despite himself. Tracy put a hand between his legs and gave him a firm squeeze.
Mark started like he’d received an electric shock and pulled his wife’s hand away, trying his best to whisper quietly enough for only her to hear. “What the hell are you doing?” he said, shooting a nervous glance at Shelby, who appeared unbothered.
“It’s fine, babe. I just can’t resist you. It’s not my fault you look so good,” Tracy whispered louder than him and tried snaking her hand back onto his crotch. It was all Mark could do to keep her at bay without alerting Shelby outright.
“Your sister is right there,” he said through gritted teeth. “And you just said she’s going through some shit. Just wait until later. You can have anything you want then.”
“Oh, there’s no way I can wait. You’re much too tempting for that. What do you say we go to the bedroom? I’m gonna give you something you’ll never forget.” Tracy moaned audibly and gnashed her teeth so hard Mark recoiled. He turned and looked at her with a bewildered expression, while hers was nothing short of ravenous.
“What is going on?” He asked her. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. Just wait until we’re alone!”
Tracy stood and looked down on him with crossed arms, not bothering to whisper. “I don’t care how comfortable you are. You’re my husband, and you’re going to give me what I want. I have to go to the bathroom. You have until I get back to lighten up and have a good time with me.” She walked to the back of the apartment in a huff.
Mark moved into Tracy’s old spot and stared at the ground. He wasn’t sure how much of that Shelby had seen and heard, but she’d surely heard something, and he had no idea what to say.
“It’s not her.” She spoke so quietly, and Mark had been so consumed with embarrassed thoughts that Shelby’s words didn’t register at first. When he realized she’d said something, he turned to her, and for the first time he noticed that she hadn’t moved since he’d walked in. Not one muscle. Not an inch.
“What did you say?” he asked her.
“It’s not her. She’s dead.”
The clunk of footsteps on the wooden floor in the kitchen preceded Tracy’s arrival, and she walked into the living room with a smile on her face, hands clasped behind her back.
Marks stomach sunk into a pit of ice at the sight of her hungry smile. “Alright, babe,” she said. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Shelby will be okay here alone for a little bit. I want you too badly to wait anymore.” Her smile widened, and a trail of green liquid ran from the corner of her mouth down her chin. She caressed her neck with her right hand, massaging slowly. “I want you, babe. You need to come give in to me. I won’t let you get away.”
Mark’s throat tightened as he turned to Shelby, who remained as motionless as ever and said nothing. He looked into the lustful eyes of Tracy, who winked and beckoned him to follow before walking back to their bedroom.
He didn't move at first. He felt like a python had squeezed the breath from his body, and he gasped and put a hand on his chest, attempting to gain control of his breathing.
“Come to me, dear husband!” A cry from the bedroom made him jump. But at these words, he accepted his fate. She was his wife, and she needed him. He would always love her.
He stood and walked into the kitchen. The apartment was dark, with the only light emanating from their bedroom, which sat with the door half-open at the end of the hallway.
Mark braced himself and walked towards it.

My sister and I had a mean babysitter when we were kids. She'd do shitty but not obviously abusive things to us all the time. For example, she once encouraged us to go for a long walk to a nearby store for her and then told our mom we'd run away. Another time, she got my sister a fantastic birthday present, left it on the kitchen table where my sister and I were bound to see it whether we wanted to or not, and then returned it because my sister was "naughty" for "looking."
One time, she took us out to eat at Cracker Barrel with a group of her friends, telling us we could each get one meal and one dessert. I ordered a meal, ate about 1/3 of it, and asked for dessert. My sister was only able to get down about 1/4 of her meal when accounting for the fact that she wanted to leave room for dessert.
Patty (the babysitter) smirked and said she guessed we wouldn't be able to have dessert since we hadn't finished our dinners like good girls. My sister looked miserable, but I had a secret weapon Patty didn't know about.
I've always been able to vomit on command. I can do it just because I want to, no finger down the throat required. I don't even remember how I discovered this fact, but I'd used it a few times to get out of school when bullies were targeting me.
So I asked Patty if she promised I could get dessert if I finished eating my dinner. She confirmed I would.
I finished my dinner, which was way too large for a 10yo, and promptly threw it all up right there at the table. Then I started crying and saying how I was so sorry but the meal was just way too big for my little stomach... before cheering up a bit (so bravely!) and saying, "At least now I have room for dessert, so it's not so bad."
Patty didn't want to get it for me, but her friends pressured her to do so since she'd promised and I'd been a good girl and tried my best to eat my dinner. As you can imagine, Cracker Barrel employees didn't really want to be the ones to give a pukey kid dessert, so Patty's friends said we should all go to an ice cream place nearby.
I ordered my ice cream and then ordered an ice cream for my sister before staring at Patty to see if she'd argue. She did not. Over all, I found my petty revenge very satisfying. Patty never tried to get us to keep eating when we didn't want to again.

Hi all, looking for gentle advice/perspective.
Me (27) and my bestfriend (28) have a group of girlfriends that are a bit older- in their 30s.
I love this group of women because they’re all successful, beautiful, and very confident, strong willed women. I’ve truly learned a lot from them in the past few years. They work hard, and know how to have fun. But- they are judgmental, unapproachable and not easy going in the slightest. But the latter came into play only recently
In recent times I’ve realized how uncomfortable I am hanging out with them because all they do is complain about how much they hate men. This became prevalent because one of the girls (Sally) started dating a man- and they are not fond of him. They may have their reasons but every time I hang out with them, all their conversations surround their Sally and her “shitty boyfriend” but a little too much… literally ALL our conversations
EVERY dinner or outing we have- whether Sally is there or not- ends up being the same convo about Sally and her boyfriend and how she should leave him and etc etc. Just horrible vibes all around- talking so much shit about how weak Sally is and how shitty Sally’s man is
I sit there uncomfortable because how does one spew so much hatred towards men and their relationship? Surely there’s other things we can talk about- and I get it, no one is perfect, no relationship is perfect. Yet, it’s bizarre to me how every conversation ends up around Sally’s man and how much they think he sucks etc etc. I feel like they fuel eachother fire
Im the only other girl in a long term relationships. They’ve basically exiled all men from coming out to ANY birthday dinners or outings (concerts, picnics, patios) because they “hate all men”.
My boyfriend of 4 years understand this, and doesn’t really have much to say. They’ve met him and thinks he’s alright but when we first started dating- god I was so nervous to bring him around them. It was a nightmare. They probably don’t even like him but just won’t say it to my face.
A week ago I made the mistake of venting to my bestfriend about a problem that arised in my relationship and since then she’s disinvited my boyfriend from her birthday dinner coming up, despite being good friends with him for 4 years. She’s saying it’s a girls only dinner because she didn’t want Sally’s boyfriend to come so to be fair- NO BOYS AT ALL allowed.
I feel like my bestfriend is becoming more and more like the older ladies in the friend group- cold, judgmental, and a hater?
I have other groups of girlfriends that are not like this and I’m wondering if I’m missing something here? What would you ladies do in this situation? This is all so childish and weird to me.

Fair warning this might be long.
TL:DR debating writing a letter to ex/current situationship (18 years) complicated past, Ive changed alot got sober did work on myself, they are now in a space dealing with some addiction and going to therapy.
I know letter writing comes up a lot and i want to share details but make it unidentifiable if possible. If you have more specific questions let me know. Met guy ( we will call him A) when i was 19/20 he (21/22) terrfied me he was sweet attentive romantic kind not like any of the men in my life. I freaked out b/c i didnt know what to do with that I didnt know how to date. Up until that point men always wanted me for tna secret fun etc. He showed up at my work with a rose and a teddy bear, tried to take me on dates, but it was easier for me kus to get naked to be honest. I did feel really safe with him and the connection was undeniable the second the other person showed up in a room we were in our own world and usually would just leave. After the flowers and the failed on my part attempt at a date i basically ran. His brother (older)swooped in and tried to date me. New years came his brother didint invite me out, i was at a different party A msged me we ended up spening the next 24 hours together but i knew he didnt trust me. I got him a birthday gift and dropped it at his house but im not even sure he got it i was too afraid to ask. I ended up waiting a few months then dated his brother for a little under a year, his brother was everythibg inwas used to in a man unattentive, didnt consider me in anything etc. We broke up and me and A started seeing each other almost every weekend again. This situationship kept up for a good 10-12 years. There were times we would both be drunk and emotional and apologies were always being given i love yous were said but the wall was still up and inwas still afraid. I finally got sober and we still kept hooking up he got his dream job i got mine. Time spent together shifted because we were in our 30s and had careers, but he always saw me on big events or after he had been with his family. He has some trauma from a parent leaving when he was a young adult, and then i basically went and did the same thing. In my own personal healing journey and schooling and the wisdom that comes with age im aware of the shit i did and the accountability i need to take. His career is intense and my background is helping people in similar professions so i noticed when his behaviour shifted, and didnt say anythibg for awhile but recently did and he admitted to it and said he was getting some help. One common thing i hear alot in my job is how people always wonder what the other person thought, or would blame themselves for and see themselves as falling short without realizing the impact young relationships can have. Inwas never vulnerable when we were together, and I want him to know the stuff i never said or told, having been in the addiction phase myself i do want to share that with him. I dont expect a response from him, if i got one thats great but i can live without it. Im not expecting it to magically fix him because i am just one piece of the puzzle. I just think he deserves to know the version of my story because in it hes always been the one true constant safe thing.
How would you react to getting that? Would you welcome it wpuld you hate it? Its 18 years of stuff its gonna be more a short story or a novel than a letter. Thoughts.?

I know this question is controversial but it’s just for fun. Basically just say somebody just bought it for Libby as a birthday gift with good intentions as a birthday present (Libby does like to read). But how would Libby (and to a certain extension her mum) react to that book as a gift?

I (18 f) have at my place of work a manager (21 m). Him and I are very close and we talk all the time, but I can't tell if it's in a romantic way or friendly way, I usually would just think it's in a friendly way but some of the things he says makes me think otherwise. He has told me I'm "wife material" and when he leaves he only gives me hugs, he is always asking how I'm doing and feeling and he buys me coffee or food. And for my birthday he surprised me with my favorite drinks and food bc I wasn't going to do anything for my birthday, he claims that I'm the only coworker he likes and always asks when I work next. And he will just randomly pat my head or nudge me or just do things to make me happy or laugh or playfully be mean to me and he has even tried to get to know my family and so on and so forth. BUUUUT he also talks about other girls and will just tell me how hot some girls are that he saw or something lol and how this girl he was talking to was hot.....so, I just want advice bc idk ehat to think lmao

Originally chronicled here.
I am not the OOP. OOP is u/Lost_Beginning_2824
This was originally posted in TrueOffMyChest
2 updates
(recovered via pushpull)
Original post - February 6th, 2024
1st Update - February 28th, 2024
2nd Update - March 8th, 2024
Trigger warning: mention of domestic violence situation
I’m married to a woman who acts like a teenage girl – February 6th, 2024
My wife behaves like a teenage girl and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
This is just a rant. Curious to know how many full grown adults behave the way my wife does. I’d say out of all of the adult women I know, like friends, relatives, wives of my friends, none of them behave this way unless they keep it a closely guarded secret.
Editing right here to add that my wife is in her 30s, for context.
My wife is always obsessed with somebody, a man or sometimes multiple men at one time. Usually there is one or two main focuses at a time. When I talk obsessed I mean obsessed like a teenage girl or maybe even preteen girl would be. I’ve seen pictures of her bedroom when she was that age and they were literally wallpapers in posters of her favorite guys. That’s totally normal for a 13 year old girl. She still behaves that way as a woman in her 30s. Granted, our bedroom walls aren’t wallpapered in posters but they probably would be if I allowed it.
Her obsessions have ranged from rock stars, actors, non-entertainment industry public figures. It’s like one day she hasn’t even heard of the guy in question and the next day she’s super fan #1 and knows just about everything there is to know about him. She will read and watch everything there is to watch about the man. She will bring him up in every conversation. She will adopt parts of him into her own personality. She will suggest things that make it clear to me that she wants me to adopt characteristics of these men as part of my appearance or personality. She will openly admit to me that she’s masturbated over the guy multiple times in one day.
When she finds a new man to obsess over, she puts the others in her little stable of men who she always has a place for in her heart and in her fantasies, so they never really go away. The new man just takes center stage and becomes the main focus of almost her entire life.
So the current obsession is so strange to me. Never saw this one coming, but leave it to her to always find somebody new to fall in love with. The intensity that she has during these periods - it’s honestly like she falls in love with these men.
I’m laughing so hard just typing this all. Her current obsession is Bret Hart, former pro wrestler. This woman had never watched wrestling before in her life. Always thought that stuff was below her. And now she’s obsessed with this former pro-wrestler. She watched one show about him, for reasons I’m not aware of, and I could tell almost instantly where it was headed. I thought “here we go…” So now the Bret Hart obsession is in full swing. Has she already dropped close to $1000 in vintage Bret Hart shirts on eBay? Of course. Bought all the stickers and magnets and all sorts of other stupid crap she can find? Yep. Does she send me Bret Hart YouTube clips all.day.long when she’s supposed to be working? Yes she does.
So, I better get to work brushing up on my Bret Hart knowledge and tag lines. This is the key to getting laid when it comes to her. I’m used to this by now. It’s just not something that I can easily explain to anyone I know.
I mean, there’s are things I’m a fan of, but she is next level. I can’t think of anyone I know who is her age and acts like this. She was voted most likely to grow up and become a groupie when she was in high school, so this is absolutely nothing new for her. Sigh.
Many are lighthearted in the comments
plastic_Schedule_891
I mean he's the best there is, was and ever will be so that one makes sense at least .
You don’t think I’m hearing that 10 times a day now?
I better start planning that trip to Calgary.
Limerence is mentioned
poopchutethemoon
Yeah my bouts of limerence have been with people I’ve dated but reading that made me realize that I was very much being obsessive and it was totally all consuming. Glad it’s over honestly. Those feelings are exhausting.
Very interesting to hear you say the feelings are exhausting. It’s like a full time job for my wife, so I could see that. She told me she’s at work with her door closed pretending to be working, but she’s really watching Bret Hart videos on YouTube. She can’t even focus on her job.
OOP reveals more of the life he’s signed up for in the comments
get-bread-not-head
You've pretended to act like other men for 20 years?!
Damn dude, I hope you're finding ways to accept it and cope. That sounds rough, having to be someone else to have sex... stay strong king
Nah, I just learn their catchphrases or gain some deep fan knowledge that’ll impress her or maybe perfect a vocal impersonation of them that I can drop at the opportune time. The vocal impersonations work the best as far as making her like me and being like “ok, wanna have sex now?”
another_canoe
But what do you guys actually share *together*? That's not related to the obsession of the season? (I'm not going to even bother asking if she's tried to learn about any of your hobbies/interests).
NGL, this is all pretty grim to me, my man....and I'm someone who loves having a partner who is passionate about things and nerds out.
I fear that you've spent so long with her infatuations steamrolling over your own interests and preferences that you have convinced yourself that getting attention-by-proxy as your main source of validation from your SPOUSE is a healthy way to live.
If I told you that I was big into anime and Japanese RPGs and the only way I get interested in doing it with my actual wife is if she adopts the catch phrases /personality characteristics of my latest "waifu", would you feel some concern for my wife's mental health?
I'm also wondering about this spending....
She’s pretty dismissive of my interests and hobbies. I’ve told her I’d like her to try to pretend to show a little more interest sometimes. I make an effort to show real interest in her stuff and she does not do the same. I’m very into music and I do geek out over guitars and gear and things like that and she couldn’t tell you anything about any of the guitars I own other than “he has a blue one, he has a red one. “ We do love some of the same bands. Of course she wants to fuck the band members and I just want to talk about the chord progression on my favorite guitar tracks, but it’s close enough. We like a lot of the same movies and that sort of thing. We have the same sense of humor and can keep each other laughing for ages. We have a lot of the same views on life and on the world in general.
I don’t know, we just get each other I guess.
I would be concerned about the waifu thing, but I guess in my case she always likes guys who I think are pretty cool anyway. She has good taste, at least. If she has to be obsessing over some other guy constantly at least she does it over guys I can respect on some level.
Regarding the spending, I spend way more than she does. Only difference is it’s not usually fan merch I’m buying. But she tolerate my spending when it comes to stuff like guitar gear. She rolls her eyes and reprimands me but she tolerates it and just knows I won’t stop. I’m the same when it comes to her fan stuff. I get it, she wants the vintage 1993 Bret Hart shirt that costs hundreds…not a modern shirt that just anyone could go online and buy for $25 right now. She wants the cool, rare stuff. I’m the same with my guitars so I guess it’s like we understand each other in some way. I think it’s weird to become a fan of somebody and 2 days later drop thousands on them though. At least my money pit is consistent.
I think we both feel like we’re the only person who will semi understand and tolerate all of this stuff from each other
Not included here, but in several comments, OOP definitely brings up his wife’s looks as a positive in the relationship and he finds her antics at times amusing or even attractive.
1st Update - February 28th, 2024
I recently wrote about my wife suddenly discovering former pro-wrestler Bret “The Hitman” Hart one day after never even knowing of his existence, experienced love at first site, and is now even deeper than love with him then she was a month ago.
Tonight, I experienced a good hour of her sobbing, literal sobs, after watching the Bret Hart A&E biography. “I just love him so much. I love him with all my heart. I don’t want any more bad things to happen to him. Also, I’m very jealous he’s not my husband.”
She also went from not wanting any kids to suddenly wanting a baby so she can name it Bret (a girl or a boy, doesn’t matter…they will be named Bret). And she almost had me convinced, but I blame that on the heat of the moment.
She’s bought all sorts of clothes just like his. My wife now dresses like Bret Hart in and outside of the ring.
The past few days she’s been acting really annoyed with me. Finally I’m like “Wtf am I doing wrong?” I bought you Bret Hart stuff for your birthday! I call you Mrs. Bret Hart now, even though you’re my wife. I even sent you flowers at work from Bret. I mean that was supposed to get me points because she knew they were from me and I was playing into her obsession which she’s now apparently shared with everyone she works with. They’ve bought her a giant Bret Hart wall decal for her office.
Ok, so I did forget our anniversary which was very recently. Totally forgot it. Then again, so did she. She was too busy masturbating over Bret Hart to remember our wedding anniversary. I mean bad husband points for me obviously but all the birthday gifts had to have made up for it. I mean, I even ordered a Bret Hart birthday banner and got her a Bret Hart themed birthday cake as if she were a 7 year old boy in the year 1994.
So why is she acting so annoyed lately? Why does she act like she hates me and can’t stand to even be in the same room as me? She finally admits…I’m not Bret Hart. None of her obsession have ever been this bad. She’s seriously threatening me with divorce now because I’m not Bret Hart! She “just wants a guy like that.” She had to go walk the dog today and cry over it, how much she hates me and wishes she was married to Bret Hart. Oh fuck me you want a guy like your dad because that’s what Bret Hart is like…exactly like her dad, the same look, the same hair, the same damn age.
I told her I think she should get checked out for autism or some other sort of disorder. Her obsessions have never been this bad. She should make an appointment now because the waitlist is long. She just laughed. There’s nothing wrong with her. She just has different taste in men now, according to her.
Some comments
psychick
Therapist here - she needs to see a psychiatrist. This is mental illness to the extreme. Either she goes, or you leave. This is ultimatum territory. And, stop giving into her obsession. It makes it worse.
nualt42
Man, when she threatens divorce, take it. Jump at the chance.
Hell, sit, be a good boy and offer your fucking paw if that’s what it takes to get treated to an exit strategy. Don’t worry about dignity, sounds like you gave that up a long time ago.
She’s even looked up the divorce process for where we live and says we can be amicable about everything. She assures me she’s not looking to take any thing that is rightfully mine. She just wants a clean break.
Sophie3546
I’m surprised he even lasted this long. Calling her “Ms. Bret Hart” …..I can’t even fathom.
Excuse me, it’s MRS Bret Hart, not Ms.
NEW UPDATE - March 8th, 2024
Hi, you might remember me as the guy whose wife was obsessed with JFK (35th President of the United States), then experienced a world wind romance with former WWF pro-wrestler Bret Hart (the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be), but now she’s met a new man. I thought the Bret Hart obsession was the worst one yet. Never has she threatened divorce or told me she hated me because I wasn’t the object of her desire. Luckily, that was a relatively quick love affair for her. 3-4 months is a short run for her and one of her men. But I should be careful what I wish for.
This new one is the first time I’ve felt that I should maybe, just possibly, feel legitimately scared. Her newly developing obsession is Patrick Bateman. Yep, the character from American Psycho. Specifically, the movie version played by Christian Bale.
It’s not like she’s just met the guy. She’s seen the movie before but it doesn’t appear that they hit it off initially. Now, she’s suddenly started making constant reference to him. Bret is gone and now it’s just Patrick Bateman and maniacal laughter and purchasing all of the items in his skin care routine. I’d like to see her do 1000 crunches though. That’ll be the day.
She has always admitted to living the 80s preppy/yuppie look. She loves assholes. Assholes are a weakness for her. Psychopaths? Hmm…that’s a new one, unless you count the time she was in love with the Menendez Brothers years ago. God, the pastel Ralph Lauren sweaters she used to try to make me wear. Pastels are just not my shades.
Now, there was a time many years ago where I did have to hide all the knives in our home. I was legitimately scared that she was going to murder me. I forget what she was upset about now. I am, after all, her type - an asshole. I did something that bothered her and she ran for the knives. I had to hide them and then lock myself in a bedroom because she was literally chasing me. That was before she decided that she’d be the female Patrick Bateman. Granted, she says “only mean in the looks and snob department-nothing else.”
She’s trying to determine what the female equivalent to a Patrick Bateman hairstyle would be right now. I’m just worried about the bank account with this obsession. The amount she’ll spend on business cards alone.
Comments
lemonade_sparkle
Your wife is severely mentally ill, and needs help quickly.
Is there no chance of persuading her to get help?
If not, what preparations have you made to leave her?
I’m a strange way, I think these obsessions are what keep her sane.
Her getting help is funny though. It’s not going to happen. Sure I’ve tried to persuade her to see a therapist but she just won’t.
ctIaTErA
I probably shouldn’t be laughing as hard as I am right now. This is truly bizarre. Does she narrate her morning routine in the mirror each day now?
But in all seriousness, she’s chased you with a knife? Thats far more concerning than any of the obsessions with these men, and yes I did read the post about the wrestler. I thought it was just very quirky behavior before, but she seems truly unhinged now.
It was years ago. Like 10+ years ago. I’m much stronger than her so it’s not hard to hold her down if need be.
I AM NOT OOP
NO BRIGADING, NO HARASSMENT