Vox tv hotbird sat

I'm really tired and know that however I explain this I'll get people saying he's gay or I'm dumb, but please try to be careful as I'm at an sensitive state with various things going on in my life so would appreciate kindness if possible.
My info: 36(f), husband 36(m). My husband has always acted very caring and loving with me. Always seemed to enjoy sex and been turned on by me, compliments me and always trying to touch me in bed etc. So I've never felt undesired or that he wasn't attracted to me as a woman. He also shows attraction to other women eg on TV / I've noticed him side glance at attractive women, not men though.
Anyway here's the timeline of events: - met in 2010 when we were both 22, summer romance fell head over heels. During this time saw a message on his phone when he'd gotten out of bed and was curious if he messaged family/had many friends so glanced at his text message list - 3rd most recent was a couple weeks before we met arranging a hookup with a guy but he bailed out last minute, no further communication. This shocked me but I've always been open to bisexual people and was very promiscuous with men before I met him so I didn't see it was my business. Also I was ashamed for looking at his phone.

• after 4 years living together, he was at work and I was trying to log into my emails on the TV browser - his was already logged in and I saw a read email from Craigslist. I opened it for some reason and saw he was arranging a hookup with a man on Craigslist whilst I was away visiting family. Words included 'while my gf is away'. The other person cancelled the meetup in the next responses. Another ad he'd messaged (but received no reply) was to a trans woman. I sat frozen for hours and confronted him when he got home. He said he'd been really drunk and it really turned him on to imagine hooking up with a guy but would never have followed through with it. I argued the other person cancelled but he was adamant he could have never have done it and was so ashamed when he woke up the next day. After weeks of going over it I eventually decided to forgive him as I can understand being really drunk and making a mistake as I myself have almost led people on whilst being drunk on a night out before admitting I'm not single. I did it for attention and it was stupid.
  
• after another 2 years I became curious if he'd done anything like that since and looked in his phone when he wasn't in the room. I knew it was wrong but I guess I knew something must have happened since. I found another ad on Craigslist arranging a 'mutual wank' but didn't see any replies or any further messages. I confronted him about it and again he said he just gets really turned on at the idea and messaging someone but would never follow through. I felt completely depressed for a while but I forgave again and we discussed sexual desires etc and he said he would really enjoy anal penetration (me doing it to him) so after a few months when I felt ready we did this a few times and he absolutely loved it.
  
• after another 3 years we've now got 3 children (one plus twins) and unfortunately haven't done anal since pre children and then recently I started getting curious again and I checked his password manager on Google to see if I noticed anything strange. I found Kik account and noted the password and logged in on my phone (I couldn't find the app on his). It says account was created 2.5 years ago and I can see 2 contacts, one is a guy and another is a "femboy" who is also on Instagram and only fans. There's no chat history because Kik doesn't save it when you log in elsewhere.
  

End of timeline
Anyway I'm not against him having kinks or being attracted to trans women or fem boys. In fact I find it endearing that he appreciates femininity on different people and I've always been put off by guys that get offended or grossed out by anything gay or queer. I think he may be ashamed as he may not think anyone would accept it etc so trying to hide his attraction/preferences. I've always tried to show I'm open but he's never admitted his attractions.
The thing that upsets me is the messaging. If he was messaging other women I don't think I could have forgiven it. Or at least I'd never get past it For some reason because it's men/ trans women I see it differently and not affecting me, I don't know why.
I don't want to upset him as I don't think I can fulfill him fully sexually so I guess the only answer is he never acts on it or we have an open marriage. I don't know whether I'd be ok with an open marriage, maybe I'd be ok with only messaging as long as it wasn't secret (I wouldn't need to read the messages but would at least want to know if he still engages in general).
Is this all mad or are there other relationships like this, or am I a complete fool? I am obviously not trusting of him anymore if I keep checking his phone so I think this is a big issue in the relationship first of all.
(I do see trans women as women but I have a feeling he is interested 'because' they are trans in a kink way which I'm not sure if this is common but maybe these women are ok with men seeking out for these reasons I'm not sure)

Do your member the late 90s - early 2000s?
i know i do.. i grew up during that era..and today i can say for sure.. that was the best time !..
But let me explain..
the last year i started to feel that something is off.. something is wrong in/with my life.. i used to be so creative and had so many engaging hobbies.. today i sit in front of a screen 8 hours a day at work and then 2-3 hours at home, playing videogames and watching youtube and streaming on Disney Plus..
That makes a total ov 11 hours a day on screentime.. and no time away from it (except while sleeping)..
That shocked me. so i thought... lets cut down on that screentime.. lets get back into analog living.. at least at home on the weekends.. But it is damn hard to just turn off the pc or just do something else except consuming media.. its like an addiction.. Brain says "You want this dont you.. you want to watch another video.. admit it"..
After many tries i still couldnt break the addiction cycle.. UNTIL LAST WEEK..
We visitied my Grandmother in another state.. and as i sat down in her living room i felt so much at peace and calm.. i felt like 24 years ago .. and i loved it!..
then i figured out why .. because she doesnt have much to distract me.. there is a tv and a set of playing cards and a crossword magazine.. thats it..!..
Back to the start of my post..
in the late 90s-early 00s as many of you can remember.. there was less digital noise.. no on demand entertainment.. no youtube..
The internet was there .. but mostly for research and gathering information .. it was a TOOL..
Entertaiment had more value as a whole.. if you wanted to watch the next episode of your fav tv series? you had to tune in on a given time and day.. the same goes for movies in theatres and so on..
I think.. on demand entertainment and the constant availablilty of stuff (i.e. online shopping) has made us lazy and tired .. we became media consuming zombies.. Work - Consume - sleep - Repeat
It is time to get back into the real world.. LEAVE THE MATRIX!. Start new Project..
That is what i do now.. Reddit will be my only forum like "entertainment" and youtube consumption will be reduced to what it was. research and tutorials.. (valuable Entertainment).. and i already started finishing my garage / workshop Project (which started 3 years ago -.-)
What do you all think about this?

Lately, we had been fighting over his female friend of 5 years. I don’t usually have jealousy issues and I always support friendships no matter what gender as long as they are respectful towards me and my relationship.
I’ve been dating Ray for 6 months and every-time we have a fight he just leaves me for a day or two. Doesn’t break up just doesn’t text/call/see me.
I explained that I am very logical and fair and I don’t require much but when I get triggered my resentment comes out and I am manic, angry, needy, just overall too much and I wouldn’t make points or talk logically like I usually do.
We never had a single fight where he didn’t up and leave - that triggers my fear of abandonment and I spiral and text him to break up or block him or tell him i never want to see him again. This is not behaviour I want for myself. I know why I do these things and it hurts so much I can’t control them on my own in those moments. It is very toxic of me.
We had a conversation where I told him that I well tell him when I feel like I am splitting and that everything needs to drop and that he needs to console me and assure me he is there for me no matter the fight. He agreed and we practiced fake scenarios and it was so consoling for me I cried as I never heard him be like that with me - gentle and supportive during fights.
The issues we are having are regarding his female friend. To make the story short she thinks it is appropriate to share a bed with a guy best friend that has feelings for her but she doesn’t have feelings for him. She did the same with my partner, Ray. She leans on him while they watch TV. She is quite petite and feminine and wears crop tops and skin tight close when hanging out with my partner and the other best friend who has feelings for her. This wouldn’t be an issue for me but she doesn’t wear that kind of clothing at all with her close female friends, just with them. When I hanged out with the three of them they all ignored me and did an activity that excluded me. My partner sat next to her and left me all alone as the guy friend also sat with them. They had three donuts I bought (she came unannounced so I bought only 3 for the 3 of us). Ray gave her a donut first and he and guy friend took the other two. They just ignored me the whole time so I excused myself and left as I started to cry.
When we parted ways she told me how she forgot how big I was. I’ve gained some stress weight and I told Ray he needs to address the comment as it was very weird to say that.
He approached her gently and said Hey K my partner is insecure that comment was weird. She said how she never said that and that I am twisting her words, how she will avoid hanging out with me if I am that sensitive. He calls her little one and consoles her how no one is mad he just wanted to highlight it.
Ray and I talked and I said I am starting to compare myself to here too much as she is getting empathy and gentleness that I am not getting from him and due to us looking differently it is going to my head.
I told him I needed to feel like I am more important to him than her, for a short period of time so I can adjust to their friendship. That he needs to put my needs/feelings first instead of hers and it hurts me very deeply and I cry so much due to these events lately.
The day after he asked me about getting her a specific anime bag, he remembered all the little details about the bag we saw as he knew she would like it (i told him to get it for her before I met her and was ignored). He wanted to get her a bag to show her there is no hard feelings (he wanted to make sure she is okay after he had to ask her to be more mindful about such comments towards me and she got defensive). When I asked him where is my bag, my feelings are hurt quite a bit more he said he would buy me that book I wanted. He couldnt remember the book name or colour but remembered everything about the bag.
Anyways we got into a big fight and I told him, I need to feel like his number 1 priority for sometime so I am ok with that friendship. He said he understood why and how I felt. But returned back to telling me I am making an issue where there is no issue and my reality is not true. I just told him I am uncomfortable with the friendship (more his attitude towards her) and I need him to take a break from it for my own sanity. He said he doesn’t like that.
My BPD got triggered and Idk why I said that as I knew his choice, I acted like a child and asked him to make a choice. Nothing will happen I just need him to make a choice K or me. And I reminded him I just need to feel safe in this relationship and I will be okay with their friendship.
He choose K.
I begged him that I just needed to hear him say my name just so I can control the splitting.
He refused and said don’t make me say it as I will hate myself.
I begged and begged and I was pathetic as I was losing all grip I had on my controlled emotions.
He said the I choose you and left me again.
I am so heartbroken and I did it to myself and I’m so tired of being like this and having these extreme emotions. When I am calm I validate everyones side and be supportive and forgiving and apologetic.
I called him and asked him to pick up as I was not feeling safe on my own ( I never asked him or told him something like this) it was 4 am and my friends and brother are not responding and my mental health was. Very dark.
I’m all alone now and I don’t know how to fix this.

Charlie was sitting in her room, gazing out the window at the darkening sky. The beautiful colours of twilight had become a dull grey like how she felt within. She hadn’t seen her parents in what seemed days, although the clock on the wall seems to indicate only a few hours ago. They appeared to be forgetting that Charlie was alive and it hurt more than anything else.
As she descended into the kitchen, her steps were marked by creaking wood, which gave way under her feet that were bare. Emma, her mother, stood with her back towards the entrance cooking supper. Charlie paused outside the door hoping for acknowledgement from her mother but received none. In the lounge Mark sat engrossed in his book, unaware of Charlie’s presence.
“Mom? Dad?” called out Charlie with a tremor in her voice.
No answer came forth. Inside anger boiled and frustration welled up inside her as she marched to the dining table and knocked over a glass sending it crashing onto the floor without even getting attention from them.
“What is wrong with you? Why don’t you see me?” She screamed through house walls.
Yet there was no response at all. She was boiling with anger and frustration. She went to the dining table and hit it up against a glass that fell on the ground, breaking into pieces.
Her mother jumped, turning quickly. “Mark, did you hear that?” she called out, concern in her voice. “What was it?” Mark asked, looking up from his book. “I think the glass fell over on its own,” Emma replied, hurrying to the table. She knelt down, carefully picking up the shards. “Strange, there’s no breeze in here.” Charlie stood frozen, watching her mother clean up the mess she had made. Emma’s face was a mix of confusion and sadness, as if she was struggling with something deeper than a broken glass. As her mother swept up the last of the shards, Charlie felt a chill run down her spine. Something was terribly wrong. “What’s your problem? Don’t you see me?” She shouted loudly and her voice reverberated all over the house. However, there was no response from them. Her mother hummed a sad melody as her father proceeded to turn a page in his book without interruption. Charlie felt coldness run down her spine; something was terribly amiss.
On that night she hurried back into her room seeking answers. In desperation, she got out one of her old photograph albums intending to find some solace in happier times. While flipping through pages, she came across an image which made her heart skip beats. It had been a photo of both of them standing by a grave their faces full of grief deepness etched on their faces . Her name was engraved on the tombstone: Charlotte "Charlie" Evans
The truth hit her like a sledgehammer and she felt the rush of cold air. She had died months ago. The accident—it was all coming back to her now. The car crash on that rainy night, the blinding headlights, the screeching tires. She had been so sure she would make it home safely, but she never did.
Her parents weren’t neglecting her; they simply couldn’t see her. She was a ghost, trapped in a world where she no longer belonged. It was frightening and at the same time liberating when she realized what this meant for her life. Her face was soaked with tears as the depth of grief in her parents’ heart and own tragic end unfolded to her.
Charlie, determined to seek reconciliation, decided to pay her respects at the grave. A silence fell over the night as she trod through dark streets into the cemetery. The mists were dense; and there was a gentle wind in the trees. The parents’ flowers were already withered on her headstone that stood under an old oak tree.
Next to the grave, she kneeled down and put a hand on the cold rock. “I am sorry Mommy, Daddy.” She apologized silently. “Now I know better than I did before. I love you so much.”
The first rays of sunrise brought mild heat around Charlie’s body. At that moment, she looked up and saw them standing by cemetery entrance holding hands with their faces white but unyielding. They were here for her, they came back to cry again.
Emma wiped away tears from her eyes as she placed some new flowers on the grave which sparkled in the morning sunshine.“We miss you darling,”she murmured.“Every single day we miss you.”
Charlie felt comforted – he felt at ease with the world. They stared at each other as she backed away from the TV and watched them silently celebrate their memory. She knew that their love for her and conscience would continue to be as strong as the heart’s beating.
‘This is the finest way to end it’ thought Charlie as she gazed at her parents one final time before drifting away for good. She learned that she was never there alone – she wasn’t. And as she closed her journey towards the light, she again said ‘goodbye’, because she knew that she was a part of all of them, and that all of them are a part of her.

This is a bit of a novel but I wanted to share my experience with my medical abortion, since I hunted so desperately for similar this time last week.

I have some time stamps with the meds/experience farther down if you want to scroll past this stuff. I’ll put it all in bold.

Period late 2 days. Found out I was pregnant last Sunday. My health insurance is in a gap rn so had to pay out of pocket. I was able to get it online. I ordered my two pills from ABuzz, they have a sliding scale if needed be and I had my pills by Wednesday. (Misoprostole and Mifeprostone) They sent all of the information needed and were very helpful. (Came with 1 Mife & 12 Miso)
(In between this, I did go to my clinic out of sheer nervousness and was basically told since my plan was abortion, they wouldn’t give an ultrasound unless it was far later along and I had intentions of keeping or had complications present. Nor would they help me go through with it. I really wasn’t willing to risk this, so I took a blood test that they had offered so I could get my HCG levels. It confirmed I was anywhere from about 4-8 weeks. They recommended I ask planned parenthood for advice/an ultrasound. The soonest ultrasound with PP was about 3.5/4 weeks from then, so ultimately I just chose to trust the HCG levels my primary care clinic provided.)
Fast forward a few days and it’s Friday & I was off work early, so I took the one Mifeprostone at 3p. I continued to run errands. I have a pretty shitty fear of vomiting so I took some Dramamine around 5pm. (I had a zofran script from my primary care doctor but it was sent to the wrong address, so I never received it) I experienced some very mild nausea and hot flash, but I had assumed it was anxiety. Other than this, I was completely fine with no side effects. Enjoyed a night out with friends.
The next day, I ran my errands and got some additional things I may of needed like Gatorade and some extra pads. I experienced some light cramping around 2pm. I was planning to take my 4 misoprostole after 3p (24 hours later), so I took 800mg of ibuprofen at about 3pm. Plans changed so I waited a bit longer, so it probably wasn’t necessary to even take the ibuprofen. I took some Dramamine about 6pm, because I planned to take the miso at 7. Started to spot while wiping at about 6:30pm. I made sure I ate, but again I have a fear of puking so I did safer foods for me like a light noodle soup, butter pasta, apple sauce and sweet potato fries.
Continued spotting when wiping until 8pm.
Saturday, At 8:10pm, I Inserted 4 misoprostole vaginally. Took Tylenol, smoked a tiny bit of weed, laid on couch with heating blanket immediately and started a new show.
Hour 1, 9:10pm, some light cramping, almost felt like the kind when you have to poop.
Hour 2, 10:10pm, tired so took a nap.
Hour 3, 11:10pm, woke up from nap a few minutes after this with some heavier cramping but nothing unmanageable. Went to toilet for first time. When sitting on toilet cramping started back up and I became nauseous and weak. Nearly fainted. I have a history of fainting when pain amps up like this. It’s nothing new, but I just laid down on the bathroom floor. I was in and out of talking to my partner. I dry heaved after about 15 minutes of just laying low and sipping some of my Gatorade. Took Dramamine. Sat on toilet after. Felt a bit better. Still cramping heavily. Loose stool. A dull pain still. Used the bathroom probably about 3x, blood poured out and I also had loose bowel movements every time.
Hour 4, 12:10am, Was still awake from hour prior when I woke up from nap. I took Tylenol at this time. I moved from the couch to our bedroom and went to lay down. As I was walking I became nauseous again, sat down and threw up quite a bit this time. As soon as I felt like I had everything out I was able to sip on some water and lay down. I immediately felt better and laid back down for bed. Put heating pad on my stomach and went to bed. assuming this is when the pregnancy had passed
Hour 11, woke up at 7:30 am, Felt like a million bucks, some light cramping but I slept with the heating pad on me. Went to the bathroom, took 800mg of ibuprofen as a precaution and laid back down. Was lethargic but just watched some tv in bed and hydrated.
Hour 13, 9:30 am, by this time I was up and moving, I could feel blood pouring out of me but the pad was a god send. I ate light food, just crepes and some apple sauce. No nausea thankfully, light cramping.
12pm, about 16 hours later, felt much better. Was still bleeding a bit, but the maxi pad and/or period underwear have been helpful. Lounged around in zero pain.
17-21 hrs later, I ran errands between 1-5pm and just could noticeably feel a large amount of blood pouring out of me when moving.
24 hrs later, 8:30pm, went for a walk around our neighborhood with my S/O and our dogs. No pain at all. I began my birth control again at this time and took that pill.
36 hr, bleeding is lighter, more intermittent but still a heavier flow. Some cramping. Went to work.
48 hr, bleeding like a normal but heavier side of period. Birth control again.
I will say, the only clot I saw was the size of a grain of rice. There was too much blood to make anything out. It was a quick process. Definitely uncomfortable, but nothing unmanageable. The nausea was the worst part for me and it had a very quick onset and was over with quickly. I felt relief after vomiting. Realistically I slept for most of it and the “worst” was brief.
My takeaways from this was really to have someone there if you can. I really don’t like having people around me when in pain or uncomfortable, but it was a god send.
Also, as someone who never uses pads, it was very difficult for me to do so. I found that the disposable period underwear was really helpful. Basically is the same concept as a diaper but shhhh. It was amazing. The larger, more absorbent maxi pads are good too.
Having pain reliever, an anti nausea and a heating pad on hand was also great.
And having snacks that I knew were safe for me to throw up if it happened, which it doesn’t happen for everyone, was super helpful too. Usually I keep some sugary stuff like a Gatorade or apple sauce to keep my blood sugar up but that’s just from my own experience. I believe it’s a side effect from one of the 2 medications and it’s something I already deal with so it was just nice to have a variety on hand in case.
Anyways. That’s the novel. My medical abortion was actually a much more pleasant experience than I had imagined.
I hope this helps in some way! Best of luck with your choices. If you have any questions just let me know, I’d be happy to answer to the best of my ability.

I have a tendency to re-listen to episodes, and I listened to "News Everyone!" which is usually pretty funny to me. Mark saying that security people tend to not give a shit about people just coming into the back of the store is so true, I know because it happened at an old job of mine.
I worked for a third party cleaning company to clean my local Walmart. Well, I'm on my break, which I just sat in the McDonald's and not in the break room that day. Later on, after my break, I hear the employees talking about how someone took a whole fucking TV and walked out through the back of the store. I know you're not really supposed to confront thieves but I was just dumbfounded, wondering how the hell nobody noticed until this person was long gone. I still do not know to this day, literally 5-6 years later. I don't know how they missed this, I don't know how it was resolved, but I definitely learned that day that it is apparently ridiculously easy to just sneak into the back of Walmart and steal shit.
TLDR; Mark was right.

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

Today I read of the guy that falsey reported sandy hook shooting never happened and how some think anyone should be able to report or say any falsehood they want. And to them I want to share my own experiences and show why we need some accountability and laws to prevent this from happening to other people. I will never be the same as I was because of someone's conspiracy theory.
In 2020 I was healthy of mind and body. I was active on Facebook, reddit, LinkedIn, and Twitter. I'm almost 50 and a mother of 7 and grandmother of 5. I've suffered from social anxiety and depression bit had that under control. I have a soft spot for helping abused children. My bank card rounded up to the nearest dollar and the change went to help prevent child abuse. I studied child development and child psychology in college. I am ex military and have some ptsd (the social anxiety and depression) but again under control. In 2020 there was false news coming on Facebook about children being abducted, abused in numerous ways and it broke my heart. I had to help. I was drawn in to a conspiracy theory due to my heart hurting for these children that were missing or abused. Around October I was told via comments to look up the fall of cabal videos on YouTube to get even more information about how children were being hurt. Like a dumbass that (even though I finished college) was still so gullible I went and watched all 10 videos. This conspiracy theory didn't just touch on children being hurt and abducted but my religious beliefs and my distrust of politicians. At video 10 I was so afraid but not the same way others were. You see the Bible says we won't know who Jesus or God is until Satan is revealed. So I saw this conspiracy theories idea of jfk Jr coming back not as Jesus or God but as Satan and Trump was him. Most people believed this and saw this as a godsend buy I saw it as the ultimate evil on earth. It frightened me so bad I had a nervous breakdown. I lived inside my own mind for over 8 months. To this day I still don't leave my home, don't know what's real or not, and have deleted nearly all but reddit of my social media. To remind what sanity I now have I can not watch the news, go to places where others might verbally attack me and my TV time insist of dvds I have that I know by heart. In my head still we are in end times. I can't undo that thinking. I'm trying to see a professional through the va but they are booked till October.
Last July I tried to go to a family reunion in another state. I went into psychosis because of the videos and thought the worst things about my own family. I saw my family of Trump supporters as racist and the entire reunion as a kkk hoedown. While my ex pastor uncle danced and sung while playing horseshoes I saw my uncle dancing around a fire chanting hate. While my aunts sat by the river watching their pups swim I saw them planning that nights witch orgy. While my brother bar b qued beef and chicken I saw a child's ribs and meat being cooked. I was in total psychotic break and it wasn't even a day since I was there. I was rushed home and tended to for the next two weeks while my spouse and children tried to bring my mind back to our home.
This is why we need only facts to be reported on news and if it's a fictional story then it needs disclaimers and it needs guidelines. If the word news is in the name it needs to be factual and unbiased even if it's news and entertainment. News needs to be factual and unbiased. There's no entertainment in news. It's suppose to bore the kids like it did me as a child.
Some of you will disagree and say I should know how to tell what's real and not but you might be forgetting that I am not you. No one is you. Some people are gullible and they need to be protected. The ones that normally tell me it's my fault are normally the ones saying we need to protect everything. We'll my mind should have been protected. There should have been disclaimers. There should have been rules so others like me didn't get drawn in and start believing these horror stories. I can no longer go to the park with my grandchildren out of fear. I'm too afraid to leave my home because of this conspiracy theory that took my faith, my love for children and corrupted them. I question the Bible and still feel the fear of end times all the time. I can't support anything that tries to help children afraid I'm supporting another conspiracy theorist. My entire life has been turned upside down because someone or a group decided to play with my gullibility.
I'm glad that family won their lawsuit. I hope laws begin to take place to protect families like mine ND theirs. And to those spreading the lies I hope this finds you so you can see just how much those lies have hurt this family. I hope you rot in hell and Satan has his way with you. I hope God does not forgive you for leading some of his children astray and for hurting those you have hurt. I hope his vengeance is as horrible for you as you have made my life. And normally I never wish harm on anyone because it's not very Christian.

Here's the process I've gone through so far:
1) Plugged everything in, got to the initial screen prompting me to start setting up using the Google Home app.
2) Used Google Home to connect to wifi, but then the app said the Chromecast wasn't on my current wifi. I had to back out of the installation and do it a second time, which worked.
3) After setup, it prompted me to set up with my Google account on my phone. This would eventually fail with a generic message saying I was unable to connect. After doing this 3 times, it asked me to continue setup on using the remote instead.
4) The TV sat on a spinner for about 5 minutes, then reached the Google login screen. I logged in, accepted legal requirements, and accepted the screens regarding Google Assistant.
5) The TV then sat at a spinner for about 30 minutes. I did a factory reset on the Chromecast, then went through the above steps again, including the 2 issues above, which brings me back to this step.
I'm not really sure what to do at this point. Did anyone else face any of the issues I had when setting up the Chromecast? Is there anything else I could try doing?
EDIT: Unplugged everything including the router, plugged it all back in, and the Chromecast worked.

Hey everyone! This is my 2nd post about my affair with Dustin, a 26 year old, married, captain on staff while I was a newly arrived 18 year old private at my first duty station.
I hope you enjoy Part 2, and as always, I'm welcome to receive any constructive feedback you may have about my writing or if you just want to talk! If you're just here to bash me for having an affair with someone, save your breath, I'll just block you. Without further ado, Part 2 of my affair with Dustin! <3 Hannah
First, a little about me. I'm 5'5ish, 135ish depending on the day, and have dark brown hair that falls part way down my back with brown eyes. My mom is a Crow (Native American) and my dad is Italian so the olive complexion genes are active in my family. I've got a fairly petite/athletic build with a 32B chest and a toned butt. My nipples are dark brown, on the smaller side, and I shave everywhere. I'm a fan of tattoos and have a feather on my foot, flower pieces on my right hip into my lower ribs, left shoulder, and lower back, a small script piece in my left side bra line, a green carebear in my left bikini line and a large dream catcher down my left ribs. If there's a detail I've left out, feel free to ask ;)
I sat alone in my barracks room the morning after my first in person experience with Dustin, the officer I'd met on Bumble who turned out to have a wife going to school out of state. I'd ignored any thought of walking away from this potentially messy situation and now found myself waking up alone in my room, the morning after letting a married officer cum all over my face and chest while i fingered myself to orgasm kneeling in front of him. I admitted two simple truths to myself: it had been the biggest rush of my life, and i absolutely needed more.
I checked my phone and saw 4 new messages from Dustin, all expounding on the fact he wished we didn't have to go to work today and how he wished I was there with him. As I got dressed for the daily workday routine of morning physical training, I snapped him a pic in just my maroon sports bra and black athletic thong and sent it to him, telling Dustin how I wished I could do PT in his home gym in just this. The buldge pic I got in return told me he liked the sound of that as I slipped back to reality, put on my PT uniform and joined my platoon for the usual Monday run. This was the rush. The dual life I craved and what drew me to Dustin. One minute I was sending sexy snaps to a man I shouldn't be with, living in the world of secret meetups and fun and the next, I was out joining my platoon for a normal daily routine workout. The world of the rush was addicting and I'd only just dipped my toes (mouth) in.
My day to day world of learning about fuel tankers, learning to drive them under NVGs, how to test fuel quality to ensure adequate grade for the type of unit I was supporting and all manner of tactical skills that would help me integrate into a complex military operation was genuinely rewarding and occupied my attention fairly easily. But then I'd find myself longing for a breakout. Longing for the rush of excitement I'd only just tasted. Each message from Dustin became a small dose of "you shouldn't but you will" and I wanted more.
Dustin had a busy schedule at the staff he worked on, but always took a moment to ask "how's my beautiful Private doing? Need anything from the Exchange?" We had had one intimate in person encounter and already this was taking on more than just a hookup from a dating app. We both recognized that actively developing a relationship behind the back of one partner's spouse automatically made this more than "just sex"....which we hadn't even had yet.
Between his work schedule and mine, we found it difficult to meet up the week following our evening of watching football with a side of a blowjob. Didn't stop me from letting him know I wanted more. I dropped all the hints. I sent him pics of choices of underwear for the day, letting him choose from a few options I was comfortable working in and then sending him quick snaps from the bathroom at work, proving his Private really wore what he'd asked her to. I also introduced him to a pink, 6 inch, anatomically correct dildo I typically used in the evening when I craved him desperately. I showed him that just like with his similarly sized shaft, I could force my lips to reach its base as the tip slid into the back of my throat. I also laid it on top of the underwear he had chosen for me one day, a simple pair of boyshorts that looked incredible with a pink phallis on top, illustrating just how far into my petite frame it/he would go if I would just slip them to the side and insert it/him.
I kept him wanting more. You can see my underwear, but only laid out on my bed, or on me, not tossed to the side showing you underneath. You can see my small collection of sex toys in my drawer or in my mouth, but the camera stops before they get to where they're the most fun. By Thursday, Dustin was desperate for the week to end so we could be together. He sent me a video of him teasing himself with pictures of me on his laptop and I thought it was the hottest thing ever to watch a man who definitively out ranked me choosing "his beautiful Private" over his wife. By Saturday we were going to go wild if we didn't take the next step.
There's different types of duty in the military, from a barracks desk to an installation watch office and every echelon in between. Saturday Dustin had duty for his brigade, which normally meant not a lot of time sitting at a desk, but a lot of time going around inspecting important places in his unit and making reports of what he found. I couldn't wait any longer and neither could he. I told him he should just add me to his list of inspections and quickly have his way with me during his rounds. Not the fairy tale special first time but the raw, I need you now and I'm tired of waiting, that two deprived lovers seek.
He agreed and said he would have time to "run home for dinner" if I would be ready and waiting for him. Ready and waiting in your bed. Quicky to satisfy this urge and let me plan something more while I wait. Yes. Dustin agreed to leave his side door unlocked so I could let myself in while he was at work. Apparently despite our lack of intimacy, our constant stream of communication built a trust that I wouldn't rob him blind lol seriously though, I respected his trust and didn't take an opportunity to go through all his stuff or leave a letter for his wife or anything crazy in between.
Instead, I drove over in late afternoon in a pair of black Nike soccer shorts with a built-in liner, so I went sans underwear, and continued the trend with a pink tshirt and matching hoodie without a bra, letting my small, 32B chest bounce a little as I let myself in, walked past the couch I'd kneeled in front of to receive a facial at the previous weekend and made my way towards Dustin's bedroom upstairs. I found aa spacious king bed that occupied the majority of the fairly small room in military housing, leaving a small walk way on either side, wide enough for matching his and hers nightstands on either side of the bed and space at the end of the bed where the room flowed into the master bathroom sweat complete with walk in closet, linen closet and 2 sink bathroom with a nice deep tub.
I set my purse down on what was clearly his wife's nightstand and quickly stopped out of my comfy clothes I'd worn to my visit. I plopped down naked in his bed, with a condom and lube laid out on her nightstand next to my purse. I sent Dustin a nude selfie of me on his wife's side of the bed, with a caption letting him know I was ready for our quicky. A quick reply let me know I had 15 minutes. I was immediately slick with anticipation. I set a pillow in the center of the bed and scooted my butt towards the edge of the bed as I spread my legs wide and began to tease light circles around my clit as I began to tease myself in preparation for the quick coupling that was minutes away. As my breath quickened and my heart raced, I dabbed a small glob of lube onto two of my fingers and I slowly stretched myself, my inner walls relaxing to recieve one, two, three fingers as I continued to rub my clit, my body as desperate to be with Dustin as my heart was.
A rattling of keys in the front door let me know my time was up as I removed the 3 fingers currently satiating the desperate urges of my core. Racing footsteps up the stairs found Dustin at the door in seconds, with his beautiful Private spread eagle on the edge of the bed waiting for him. I looked up at him in his uniform, totally unashamed of my nude and vulnerable position and told him his Private was ready for his inspection.
In a flash his camo jacket was tossed aside, the brown undershirt following behind and he rushed to undo his belt and soon had his pants and briefs around his ankles. In a moment he was leaning down on top of me, hungrily kissing my lips as his firm shaft pressed against my core as I pulled him into a tight embrace between my wide spread legs. As we passionately kissed, our tongues breathlessly intertwined, I paused and asked him if he wanted the condom off his wife's nightstand. I reminded him I was on the shot for BC, but it was his choice either way.
He pulled away to look over at her nightstand and instead of grabbing the condom, took the lube and generously applied a coat to his entire six or seven inch length. I needed him now. Standing between my legs, which I held wide open for him with my butt to the edge of the bed, Dustin teased the tip of his firm shaft between the lips of my freshly shaved vagina. He ran the tip between my spread lower lips, from my clit to my soaking wet and lubed entrance. With only a moments pause with his tip aligned with my eager hole, Dustin firmly pushed his entire length into me as he moaned my name and my soft inner walls welcomed him deep inside me as I gasped at the feeling of sudden fullness and a desperate need for more.
Buried to the base of his shaft inside me, Dustin leaned down to kiss me passionately. I wrapped my legs behind his butt, pulling him deep inside me as he began to thrust in a steady deep rhythm that drove me to the edge. I breathless begged for him to fuck me as I scratched lines down his back with my nails as I desperately held my man between my legs, his thrusts stimulating every inch of my inner walls and the friction of our bodies urging my clit to find release. Dustin broke our embrace and soon I found myself with two strong hands holding my legs open wide nearly in the splits on the edge of the bed as he thrust into me deeper than I'd ever felt before. I was breathless, calling out for more. Please don't stop Dustin. Please don't stop as his pace quickened and I could feel his balls slapping against nearly my butthole as he pounded into me, using my vagina for his release. I took one hand and found my clit, matching my rhythm to his and I soon found the waves of release that had building to the edge as Dustin gave me more, more, more. My inner walls clenched tight as the dam broke and my orgasm shook through my body in a release of ecstasy. Dustin continued to fuck me through my own release, my body desperate for him to find his own release.
I looked up at the passion and hunger in his eyes as I became keenly aware of the bouncing of my small breasts as I laid there riding the wave of my massive orgasm moaning in pleasure as the stimulation deepend, quickened and in a moment, I could feel Dustin swell and find his release deep inside me, ropes of cum filling me as my body clinched around him, holding him inside me as a second wave of pleasure pulsed through my core. We laid there for a long moment, a tight sweaty embrace with my handsome man on top of me, showering my neck and lips in kisses as we both breathlessly came down from our collective orgasms.
Dustin stood up, his softening length sliding out of me along with a mix of his cum and lube and my own release. I stood up and followed him to the bathroom, me completely naked, with his uniform pants pulled half way back up. I took hot washcloths and cleaned both of us between our legs, getting him ready to go back to work and for me to clean the mix of cum and lubed that was now running down my inner thigh. I asked him if I'd passed his inspection and he laughed, smiling and kissing me saying that indeed I had. He told me I could spend the night here if I wanted, he had to get back to duty but his place was a little more awesome than my barracks room.
I agreed and put back on my Nike shorts and tshift with it fairly obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra, which admittedly wasn't really an issue for Dustin at all. I followed him downstairs and kissed him goodnight as he headed back to work. I made myself at home and made a simple dinner and fell asleep watching tv under a blanket in his living room, which is where he found me when he came home at the end of his shift in the morning. I followed him to bed and we spent most of the day napping in eachothers arms before it really was time for me to go home and get ready for the next work week. I continued to tease him on snap and told him that we had sooooo much more still to do and his response made it readily apparent that he agreed.
Thank you for reading this chapter of my affair with Dustin! If you liked it or have something in my writing you'd like to see improved, feel free to let me know! My writing only gets better if you tell me what you'd like to see! Thanks for for sticking with me, I truly hope you've enjoyed! <3 Hannah

As the title implies, this is the first in a series of stories about affairs I had in the military. I've never been married, not really interested in being married, but I have been with four married men in my life. In each case, I knew what I was doing, but I loved the rush of doing something I shouldn't as much as I liked the relationship itself. I'll save you all the negative comments. I was the homewrecking whore, etc, etc. If that's what you're here to comment about, save your breath, I'll just block you so people who want to actually read my content don't have to deal with you. If this is your sort of story, I'd love to hear your feedback on content or how I can improve my writing! One quick author's note, i will not be using people's real names or naming specific units that my stories happened in. I was never caught in my sexual affairs, no wives found out and left their husband over me, and no one's military career ended because of me and I intend to keep it that way. This is for fun writing, not doxing someone's past transgressions to the world. Also let me know if you want to see more stories! <3 Hannah
First, a little about me. I'm 5'5ish, 135ish depending on the day, and have dark brown hair that falls part way down my back with brown eyes. My mom is a Crow and my dad is Italian so the olive complexion genes are active in my family. I've got a fairly petite/athletic build with a 32B chest and a toned butt. My nipples are dark brown, on the smaller side, and I shave everywhere. I'm a fan of tattoos and have a feather on my foot, flower pieces on my right hip into my lower ribs, left shoulder, and lower back, a small script piece in my left side bra line, a green carebear in my left bikini line and a large dream catcher down my left ribs. If there's a detail I've left out, feel free to ask ;)
Without further ado, my story:
I was an 18 year old private, 92F (fuel handler) working on a base in the heart of Bourbon Country. It was a huge culture shock for me, coming from a small town in Maine to a massive military base with more people in my division than my home town. I honestly felt a little lost and overwhelmed, which probably contributed to why I sought out a relationship where I felt wanted. It's easy on a base like that to feel completely ignored. My unit had long been integrated and was about 30-40% female on any given day, so no I wasn't getting hit on constantly, and no I wasn't sleeping with every guy in my barracks.
Speaking of my living situation, I was in a 4-story building with all of the junior enlisted soldiers in my battalion. There wasn't open bays and there wasn't all girls areas. We roomed by company in our own room with a bedroom, closet, bathroom, and a fridge/sink/1 burner stove setup by the door as a kitchenett. Barracks could definitely be a wild time, similar to a college dorm but contrary to your favorite porno, gangbang orgies with 20 guys "running a train" are something I never saw or heard of in my 4 years living there and I was/am a fairly sexually active adult.
Given my situation of being totally new and massively out of my element in terms of culture shock, I quickly turned to Bumble to help sort out my dating scene because the base really was a city and everyone is pretty insular when it comes to their unit, so trying to meet guys who also aren't your coworkers means turning to the swipe game. After a few days online and connections with everyone from the local off base that definitely has fewer teeth than fingers to the obviously fake bot that just screams scam, and swiping left on some guys from my own company (hey, 18-25 year old demographic has the same needs, I get it), I finally matched with a 26 year old, Dustin, from another brigade on our post.
Given 10 seconds on Dustin's profile, I could tell he was an officer and anyone with 10 seconds to spare on my profile could tell I was junior enlisted, but we matched anyway. He was handsome in a gentle sort of way. Sandy brown hair in a military cut, athletic features that let you know he was fit without screaming chiseled gymrat, and a style that screamed more laid back homebody than the stereotypical "bro vet" vibe that you get with some young officers....and a ton of junior enlisted. I took a pause and decided to message him despite knowing our ranks didn't line up because the way I saw it, we were in totally seperate brigades and there'd be no reason we would ever interact or influence eachother at work.
A few minutes later I got a reply back and soon I was texting back and forth getting to know a genuinely sweet guy with a love of the outdoors, fishing, camping, and an eye for photography, particularly some truly astounding landscape photos. The conversation came easy and I found myself happy to have a guy so interested in me. Before I got completely swept off my feet, I brought up the elephant in the room and mentioned that I was an E2 and he was an O3. He dropped the bombshell that "yeah but I'm just a guy on staff, that's not a big issue, the real issue is I need to be discreet because I'm married. Please don't hate me"
Boom. Of course the super easy to talk to makes me feel wanted and moves past my mention of our rank differences drops the counter-bomb of he has a wife. In all of my 18 years I thought I would have run away instantly. Nope. Not me. I was intrigued. I didn't run away, and I came to find out that his wife was doing a year long internship with a major corporation out of state and only really came to visit on long weekends and holidays. So Dustin had turned to Bumble to fill a piece of his love life that was currently 4 states away. Not ideal I told myself, but at least she isn't like...here on post with him and he's not coming home because he's with someone else...right? To 18 year old me trying to convince myself it was okay to be with the guy I obviously was attracted to it was sound logic. It worked. I replied back that I was up for seeing what happened with the understanding that no one was gonna leave their wife over this and no one was gonna get anyone in trouble over the rank thing.
A week of texting back and forth after moving off Bumble found Dustin and I building a fast relationship that came with similar interests and easy conversation. He wasn't overly pushy about becoming anything romantic and wasn't like "Omg send nudes". I guess he was feeling this whole thing out as much as I was. Eventually I got the text one evening of "you know you look really good in that pic you have with your friends at the beach on your profile"...I know the one. I'm wearing an electric blue string sided bikini that has pretty full coverage, rides moderately low on my hips and has basic triangle cups and string ties for the top. Okay, Dustin likes me in a bikini...this is the first obvious flirting from Dustin and I decide to be a little bold and sent him a mirror selfie in the generic black bra I had worn under my uniform that day with my uniform pants still on. I get a reply back in some stereotypical guy lingo that he really likes what he sees. I told him that if he wanted to hang out, I wouldn't put my uniform shirt back on. Cue the FaceTime call, yes Dustin I will video chat with your handsome shirtless self while wearing a bra and my uniform pants thank you very much. We talked for at least an hour and things didn't turn super sexual or anything but we did agree we needed a date that weekend. The week ahead though definitely saw a spike in "tension" between us.
I was more than a little excited by the prospect of being with someone again. I had had a little fling during AIT, but since coming to my first duty station, I had been in a bit of a dry spell. Bumble had finally come through for me, and the combined rush of potentially being with a guy again, plus the fact he was one of those forbidden officers, and married? I was on edge. I definitely had my moments of "holy shit I shouldn't be doing this" but those feelings were replaced by a feeling of almost insatiable excitement that had me counting down the days to Saturday. For the first time since highschool, I found myself putting some serious effort into some scandalous but not too "revealing" snaps to Dustin, teasing him with a peak of which panties I wore to work today, or hoping in the shower after PT with just my black Army tshirt on and sending a pic of it clinging to every curve and hiding just enough below my waist. Like I said, hard-core tease mode for four whole days.
Flash forward to Saturday and I was in my barracks room, getting ready to meet a guy I was 100% falling for just a little and I decided that no matter what happened tonight, I was not gonna be the girl who gives it all up on the first date. Definitely set myself up to potentially cock block myself, but I saw it as I didn't want to be the girl he slept with and left, I wanted to continue to tease him and leave him wanting more. I wanted him to want me. I slipped into a pair of almost painted on skinny jeans with a cute teal thong underneath with a black tanktop and matching pushup bra on top. I drove to Dustin's house somewhere in the on base housing that I'd never been and took a deep breath before walking to the door.
This was it. I was the new Private about to go see a married officer behind his wife's back. I almost chickened out and drove away, but found myself ringing the doorbell and quickly being invited in, pulled into a warm hug and a "wow you look even cuter in person" from the handsome man of my DMs, Dustin. He had apparently spent the day smoking some brisket because he had quite the spread laid out for us in the dining room as I got a quick tour of the common spaces of his home. Definitely nicer than my barracks room.
Dinner accompanied the two of us loudly cheering on a random football game on TV, sorta snuggled on the couch but at a "almost together " sort of distance. There were all sorts of reasons for us to brush up against eachother and it was almost this cat and mouse game of how far do we go as the evening progressed. Don't get me wrong, there was a ton of conversation and it came just as naturally as it had online, but now we had the palpable tension of two of us who had never been this far deciding where the limit for tonight would be.
Eventually Dustin cut the tension, saying, "you really do love to tease don't you?". Yes. Let's talk about how I've driven you wild for days and now you want me. I leaned into him, kissed him quickly but firmly on the lips before pulling away, leaving an inch between us as I looked into his eyes and whispered "yes sir". I found my face immediately in his hands, my lips pressed to his and our tongues intertwined. I gasped as he suddenly held me close and we made every effort to close any space between us as we passionately made out, his fingers running through my hair, my nails scraping his back over his tight tshirt and soon I was hot, breathless, and sure I wanted more.
I pulled away and told him he didn't get all of me tonight but he could still have dessert. I had him sit up on the edge of the couch and pulled his shorts to the floor, tossing them aside towards an end table holding pictures of him and his wife and our dirty dishes from dinner. I in turn lifted my tanktop off over my head, unclasped my black pushup bra and let it fall to the floor, kneeling between Dustin's spread legs as my small brown nipples hardened into firm nubs in arousal. I pulled back my long brown hair and tied it in a messy ponytail before bringing my face down to his firm, six inches between his legs.
I teased the length of his shaft with the tip of my tongue, feeling him twitch in expectation as I repeatedly, softly traced his length before circling his tip and heading back down the way I came. I grasped his base and swallowed half his length in one wet mouthful, a gasp of pleasure escaping his lips as my own pushed further towards his base, attempting to take his entire firm cock before the tip slipped down into my throat, triggering a slight gag reflex as I tightened around his shaft and I came up for air, a slight trail of drool connecting my lips to his tip. I stroked his now well lubed cock in a twisting motion as I asked him if his little private was doing well for him. A hand on the back of my head guiding me back to his shaft told me this wasn't too far for him. I swallowed him nearly to his base, grasping him with one hand as my free hand unbuttoned my jeans and slipped into the front of my now soaked panties, the arousal of the situation I found myself bringing me close to an edge myself.
I worked Dustin's shaft with a bobbing head, sucking lips and twisting hand that matched the rhythm I was working against my clit with the hand buried in my jeans. I increased my pace, with Dustin's hand making sure I still brought myself far enough down his length as my own pleasure came more and more to the forefront as my now soaked vagina craved more attention. I popped off his cock as I felt it begin to swell and told him to stand up as I scooted back from the couch, kneeling between his legs, looking up at him as one hand held my jeans open while the other furiously rubbed my clit as I came close to cumming myself. I moaned for Dustin to cum for me as I looked up at him, the inner walls of my vagina clenching in orgasm as the filthy phrase left my lips and I was greeted with thick streams of cum shooting over my head before falling on my uplooking face and bare breasts and Dustin climaxed after an apparently decent dry spell.
I knelt between his legs, cum covering my face and chest, my own arousal soaking my panties and in that moment I felt like the hottest woman on earth. I made a man forget his entire world and do this with me in a home that wasn't mine but his. I was addicted to the rush. Dustin reached down and offered me a hand to pull me up. He led me topless to the guest bathroom where I cleaned up, washing my face and chest before walking back to the livingroom and redressing. Neither of us made mention of the line we had just crossed together, but we sat on the couch, now cuddled like a couple with the ice broken and finished the football game that had been forgotten awhile ago.
After the game we both agreed that I should probably get going, but we agreed to see eachother again and made a date for a midweek hangout. I kissed Dustin goodnight and drove back to my barracks in my still wet panties that I hadn't changed out of. I sent Dustin a snap in them, a wet spot still visible in the front with a caption "the things you do to me(; "...needless to say he was proud of himself. I went to bed dreaming of what could come from this, and truly happy to feel wanted, even if it was from a man who wasn't all mine.
Thank you all for reading this far. Again, like I said before, any rude comments will just get you a block. If that's what you need to do to feel good about yourself, so be it. For those of you who enjoyed this, please let me know if you'd like to read more! I'm always open to constructive feedback and critiques to improve my writing! Have a great evening! <3 Hannah

Blood tests appear fine, but I can't get my guardians to set me up with a primary care provider. Symptoms include constant chills to the point of not being able to walk, constant stomach pain, dropping and breaking things almost 24/7, and tripping to the point where I can barely get up out of bed and walk without being in pain from muscle weakness anymore. I take sleeping meds along with anxiety pills, but I don't know if they're enough anymore. . . . . . . . . . . . .
I've had labels thrown at me ranging from bipolar like my mother from a licensed psychologist to a schizophrenic who thinks they have ghosts in their bones by EMTs. They constantly ask how much caffeine I drink even though I only drink one cup a day (ranges in size). I would switch over to decaf in a heartbeat, but it's no longer sold on store shelves where I live and I'm stuck with what's available. I've tried to cut back on soda/kool-aid/etc. and mostly drink cold water from their dispenser to save money. I usually go for a sprite when I'm out at a restaurant. All my blood tests come back fine aside from Vitamin D and my stool looks completely normal. I do have the rounded gels for vitamin D, but I forget to take them.
I left my phone at therapy on accident so using this time to see if I can make sense of the outside world, but all it really does so far is prove the point of why I'm addicted to my phone in the first place. While everyone else aimlessly scrolls through TikTok, browsing actual social media like Twitter and Reddit is the only way to connect with the outside world in a small rural town with next to nothing but a trashed up Dollar General. I feel hopeless when it comes to everyday civil rights issues taking place around the world while I'm stuck with old boomers who pray for our demise.
It's not safe to get an apartment where I live because of all the drugged up deadbeats banging on people's windows and helping themselves to everyone else's spaces while the cops do nothing. I've also had all kinds of people come up to me and fantasize about wanting to kill my pets in front of me, so that's another thing I have to worry about as well. There's even been issues with people pulling out knives on each other, so even though I've bought pepper spray for myself I dont think it's enough to protect my entire living space from being pillaged. It might injure my pet if the perpetrator decides to aim for my pet first and I can't spray them in time.
Steel padlocks don't mean jack fucking shit when people can pick up a screwdriver from somewhere and unscrew the hinges off the door while I'm gone just like my sister's kids did to me growing up. Security cameras don't mean much either if all the meth heads are just gonna come back and rip through all the replacements without any consequences from the police whatsoever. Not only is it unsanitary and unsafe, but I wouldn't be able to find clothes that fit me without traveling out of state either. I would like to start walking again, but I'm scared of falling in the middle of a busy highway or tumbling into a ditch somewhere. Even then it wouldn't matter how much weight I lose due to cup size being controlled by horomones. The only reason I'm so concerned about my heart is because my mother's side of the family has heart issues really bad.
I do go to group therapy (CBT), but they've practically given up on the "mental health" aspect because it triggers all the other clients into not wanting to come anymore, with some being in even worse conditions than I am (CSA, domestic violence, etc). Whenever we try to provide reasonable explainations on how coping mechanisms can trigger volatile reactions out of other family members, we're constantly being invalidated and told that we're just choosing to be miserable. Everyone is always a stuck up about how family is so important and how we need to "love" them from a distance. However, I can't just go anywhere else for therapy because the only other psychologists they have for miles (ones at the facility) will literally raise their voice and scream at residents in front of everyone else if they don't get their way. I can't go to the other group therapy that the residents because some of them reek so bad to the point of giving me flashbacks of my parents' roach infested hoards.
Everyone gets onto my ass about leaving things on the table when I go use the restroom, but the truth is that I'm already tired of having my all shit stolen since I was 10 while everyone in my life sat around and told me to quit crying and bitching about everything. I do try to watch other residents and keep my personal items within arms reach, but I can't keep up when I can barely exit my bed and walk down the fucking halls just to eat. That's all on top of my parents consisting of three different hoarders and losing track of everything I bring over there (not to mention all the roaches, mice, and animal waste all over the floor).
I've gotten a lot more freedom since moving away from the cult, but everything I did to cope has practically gone out the fucking window due to thieves and lack of internet (they won't fix the damn router bc they dont know anything about tech). I used to have a Bluey box full of different characters from the show (ordered online ofc), but everything's so filthy that I can't really bring anything out besides toys or stuffed animals. I have an entire tote of books I've never even touched because the place is way too nasty to have them out and risk them getting ruined.
Whenever my belongings do go missing, I'm told to just suck it up and forget about it. I'm scared to fucking death end up with holes in them from being burnt or get mixed up with other women's clothes and get caught being worn them when they supposedly "know better" according to staff. I had a female resident at the religious group home scream and cry to the point that my entire fucking body weight against the damn door wasn't enough to stop her from barging into my bedroom and harass me for shit (that's after all the BS with my sister's kids for over a decade), so I'm not even gonna try to talk to anyone directly anymore.
If I told anyone in my family about my concerns, they would just get pissed and ramble on about how it's my choice to be there, how I need to stop bitching about everything not going my way, and that I should've just stayed at the religious group home. Therapists keep acting like it's all my fault in regards to my emotions, that I just need to work on myself and tell me there's nothing else they can do. Nothing fucking matters when everything on my broken ass tablet requires internet and my consoles are broken. Hell, I'd be having a blast with my 2DS XL if the thing didn't fall apart within the first month. All I really wanted it for was to emulate old PC games and hook it up to the TV. I figured that if I had all my games on one device with the bare minimum accessories needed to make it function, I wouldn't have to feel like a damn hoarder anymore.
I love the tiny library of games I have on my Wii, but my remote is absolutely dirty as fuck with roach poop and other crud. There's no way to clean it without literally soaking it in something. The console itself has all kinds of encrusted gunk on the side from where my hoarder father attached velcro to the side of it. Constant chills makes it practically impossible to sit up and play the games as well (I'm lucky just to be able to stand up anymore). My library is small enough that I'm willing to fuck around with gyroscopic controls for fun. It's not even the biggest priority to me anyway because there would be so many other games to play in the mean time.
I figured with the Steamdeck I could could prop it up against the bed or set it on a table use a controller with it if I reach a point to where I can't see the TV screen from my bed. I can't apply for a job at Walmart to pay for the thing myself because of my balance issues causing me to fall and the inability to grip anything (which would result in massive damages to inventory). I'm also worried about them taking all my earnings since my SSI check isn't enough to cover rent and I need state supplement. I thought about selling my art on Redbubble and save up that way, but my 2022 Samsung tablet that I got a few months ago glitches out when I try to draw stuff and crashes whenever I try to play certain games.
I can honestly forget about recieving one for Christmas/birthdays because for whatever reason, everyone has to have their way when it comes to gift giving and god fucking forbid you try to establish the most basic of boundaries or else you're nothing a spoiled bitch. It's one thing for the Steamdeck to be out of budget, and it's another to deliberately go against a person's wishes when it comes to simple shit like candy or soda when they obviously fucking know better. It doesn't help that everyone goes apeshit over the concept of making a "wishlist" like their life depends on it, only to hand me a sack full of random shit from the Dollar Tree and call it a day. It's also impossible to give it all away when nobody else wants it (I don't have transportation to Goodwill) and throwing away new items is a trigger for me.
I know the Steamdeck wouldn't really fix anything outside of the clutter issue and I probably shouldnt be getting one with my current impairments, but it would provide me with something to do outside of being on social media 24/7. Given the total squalor I grew up in as a child, I'd be genuinely happy with a lot of things outside of the Steamdeck if it weren't for my living situation literally preventing me from doing so:
_ toys
_ art
_ exercise bike
_ walking outside

• playing games on the 2DS again

All of these "coping" mechanisms would come back to me if I were able to move to a different area in my own setting where I don't have to constantly worry about pest infestations from the neighbors, getting evicted for no reason, and random strangers trying to kill me or my pets. I've looked everywhere for supported independence programs and absolutely all of them require a medical waiver with a waiting list of up to 10 years. I absolutely need these services for my own safety as a neglected autistic person to ensure that people aren't just gonna come out of the woodworks and try to assault me on my own property. If I move to a more stable area, I could finally get a decent job without having to worry about coworkers coming up to me and taking shit out of my hands for not knowing any better. I could finally have stuff to do outside of technology and be comfortable with my own surroundings.
Even if all of this is just anxiety, I'm still fucked over when in it comes to actual health issues like gingivitis (as confirmed by Aspen Dental) and getting my wisdom teeth removed due to the lack of a primary care physician. I've done everything I can to and they just won't do anything to get me in to see a doctor. I try to brush my teeth when I can but hurts too much to do so. I also feel overwhelmed with trying to organize everything as I keep getting way more brushes than I possibly need and people will not take no for an answer. I don't even know how to prepare for death anymore as I don't even have loved ones. The only people I've ever been given true contact with are my hoarder parents and mentally unstable sister and that's it; no friends or anything.
There's nothing I can really do to repeal the guardianship without taking everyone to court, which is impossible with my sister's busy schedule and unwillingness to work with anybody else. I only because it gives me something to do finally outside of being locked up all week until I go to a half-assed therapy session for three hours. However, they usually go straight home and aren't really willing to go anywhere that costs money aside from restaurants since we have next to no food at the house (even then it becomes unsafe to eat due to all the roaches and mice).
The bane of her existence is to scream about how much of a lazy ass I am despite turning my parents basement into a hoarded up shithole that's flooded out with animal waste to the point of attracting mice. I know her issues aren't my problem, but back in the day she'd come up behind me and pinch my sides to aggrivate me. She also threw pants/shoes/etc. at me while I was on the bed and even shoved me out of the way after accusing me of hiding something I wasn't supposed to have in the kitchen drawer (I was a legal adult at the time). I usually lay flat in bed to avoid confrontation, but ignoring her makes her volatile so I'm screwed either way. I'm pretty sure she's beating and starving her dogs as well, but nobody really gives a fuck. I've got too many of my own issues to even try worrying about them. She's known to be a neurotin junkie for years since moving in with my parents and was even caught smuggling Adderall at work while the cops didn't give a fuck and turned her loose the next day.
I would've called the cops only if there was another child still in the house, but can't do so otherwise because of the risk of charges being brought against me for slander and libel (APS labeled the case as unsubstantiated). I can't just go around risking all my freedom and housing over sick animals that would more than likely be euthanized anyway. Not that animal control would do anything to begin with, of course. I know it feels redundant to even go over there every weekend in those conditions, but I'm tired of being cooped up all day. I'm tired of not having access to a PC with internet and not being able to breathe due to all the secondhand smoke.
I have finally have regular access to food and meds at the facility, but I'm bored with nothing that makes me feel comfortable anymore. I used to walk around town because of my issues with knocking stuff off tables, bumping into everything, and tripping all the time. I used to play games on my tablet to get through the day, but the internet no longer works since switching it over to a new name and the staffare too lazy to just reset the router (everything is infested with ads). We do have bingo during the week, but most people only play for cigarettes and that's it. I can't hold any kind of conversation with anyone else because they'll just ramble on and on about random shit that happened thirty years ago. I used to play Fortnite and Warframe on my Switch Lite, but it broke after I dropped it and we don't have repair shops where I live. It would only hold charge from 45 minutes to an hour with half the games being broken anyway, so I don't even know if it's even worth saving at this point.
I can barely make use of group therapy (CBT) because of how cold I am and how much my stomach hurts. I try to sit outside when I'm not cold as there's nothing to really do around town anyway, but it's nothing more than cigarette butts and spit everywhere (along with rotten food that attracts flies). There's nothing the staff can really do to make the residents pick up after themselves and they can't ban smoking (even if other residents have health issues) because it's the only reason why anyone gets out of bed. The people where I live don't really believe in PTSD outside of veterans, let alone C-PTSD. The mere concept of it would go against everyone's idea that "family is everything, even if they do things we don't like". We barely have mental health services as it is so I'm basically screwed into staying where I'm at even though I live in fear of being punished. I'll see what I can do to get the medicine lady to up the hydroxozine a bit, but I don't know what else there is to even do beyond that point aside from huddling in bed and freezing 24/7 for the next decade until I'm approved for the waiver.

Let me start by saying I think that I have a pretty good sex life. We have both gotten very good at knowing how to satisfy one another. In a good week, we'll have 2-3 very intimate sex sessions and a couple of quickies.
We also have 3 children (7,11,12) and both work full-time.
We both also like to drink. I like to be social with a few cocktails. After a long day, we'll often have a couple drinks together and watch a TV show. The past few years, his drinking has really escalated. He drinks 10-15 beers NIGHTLY without a pause. He will even drink by himself if I am not in the mood. Sometimes I am not in the mood to drink for weeks, but he will still drink every night. It didn't use to bother me much, but the effects are showing on him.
Last year I commented on his drinking being problematic to which he said, "YOU are the reason that I am this way. I drink like this because I am so sexually frustrated with you and it is the only thing that numbs me."
Since then, we have found ourselves in the same argument every month. EVERY SINGLE ARGUMENT IS ABOUT SEX--it's not enough for him. He revealed that he is so sexually frustrated that he needs to jerk off THREE times per day. I have said yes to most of his advances over the years, because it kept him in a good mood and our household running happily. Heck, every month when I get my period, I set aside time for his pleasure because I want him to feel loved, I want a peaceful household, and to keep my marriage and family together.
As I mentioned, we have 3 children and we had BOTH decided that 3 was enough. So I begged him to get a vasectomy, but he refused and said he wasn't ready. My hormones were all over the place with breastfeeding, post partum, and birth control... and I got pregnant THREE MORE TIMES before he finally agreed to get a vasectomy. So yes, I have had THREE abortions. Believe me, I NEVER wanted this and will carry this weight to my grave. Every time he told me things would be different. Once, after the second and before the third one, he had attempted to grope me in the kitchen and I snapped at him to go jerk off or something and leave me alone. Looking back, that was harsh and I was in a bad head space and all touched out. He still throws that into every argument to this day. After the third time, something inside of me changed as I realized that he really did not care about my wellbeing. He even once mentioned to me that "your depression is affecting my sex life."
Last month, after another one of his rants about not getting enough action, I told him that I am tired of feeling like I am just a HOLE to him, to which he absolutely lost it and decided that he will no longer initiate any intimacy -- no hugs or kisses, no touching -- that is all left to me now. One night last week, I was so exhausted after not arriving home until 8PM and immediately sat down and cried about how tense and upset I was and he just... sat there. No hug, no back rub, no consolation. He then said, "Yeah I know what that feels like. Try going to my job!" No comfort, just a way to make it about him.
Yesterday I attempted to initiate intimacy after we'd both had a very long and busy week, and he sighed and dragged his feet grumbling about how long it had been since we'd had sex (he got 2 BJ's the weekend before). So I said forget it and we both were left frustrated. He then decided to unload on me while standing in our driveway and SHOUTS to the entire neighborhood that "MY WIFE DOES NOT LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME"
Every time the drinking is addressed, either by me or family members, he says he has sacrificed SO MUCH for me that he will not give up beer.
So I left, am staying at my mom's house. Kids were with me last night and went back home today. Is there any hope?

I’ve sat on this story for over a year, with only telling maybe 5 people in my life who don’t really know how to react when I tell them, but I feel like I need to hear from a larger group of people who can either tell me I’m overreacting or this is actually what I think it is.
I want to preface by saying this is my only ghost experience I think I’ve ever had. Sure, I’ve had the occasional object fall off a counter that is a little weird, but I usually just blame the cats or my clumsy/forgetful ADHD ass. That being said, I am not a skeptic and I have had many weird experiences that make me feel like I might be more “connected” to the spirit world…if that makes any sense without going too far down a rabbit hole.
I want to start by sharing a strictly fact-based telling of these events so that my opinions do not influence anyone else’s. I might give my opinion in the comments after people have had a chance to share their thoughts, but anyway, here goes -
About two years ago, I was living in a rental house with my then-boyfriend of 4 years. He worked as a delivery driver and I worked a corporate sales job from home. This home was fairly new, built in the late 90s/early 2000’s if I’m not mistaken. We had been living there for almost a year at this point, and there had been a few occasions when my ex would tell me about some weird experiences he had in the home either while I was already asleep, out of the house, or sometimes just in a different room, but most of the time his experiences happened when I was away.
His experiences included: seeing a shadowy figure walk past him multiple times, my dogs barking randomly at something in the house that he couldn’t see, feeling something touch him, and what he claimed to be his scariest experience - a portable battery-powered light-up mirror that popped/jumped while it was sitting in his lap.
Like I said I am not a skeptic, but hearing someone’s experiences second-hand is nothing like actually experiencing something yourself, so I didn’t have nearly as big of a reaction to these experiences as him because I had never had anything like that happen to me, so I wasn’t really sure what to make of it.
My experience started one evening when I got back to the house after traveling to a conference for work. I had noticed that one of the Polaroids I had pinned to the wall was slightly crooked. There were about 10-15 Polaroids on this wall, and the one that was crooked was right in the middle. The pictures were placed in a way so that when I was sitting on my usual spot in the couch (the left corner), I was basically staring directly at them as they were to the right of the TV. I say this because I am not OCD, but if I saw that one single picture on the wall was crooked, I would have noticed it and fixed it immediately. I asked my ex if he had done something with the pictures, but once I had pointed it out to him, he seemed almost as surprised as I was. I turned the picture back, feeling a little creeped out because I really couldn’t think of a way to explain it, but tried to shake it off.
For context - The house was one story, with a garage attached to the back door. When you walked in from the garage, you walked into a small laundry room with another door you would have to open to walk into the kitchen, and the bedroom was to the left of the kitchen.
The next day at around 1 PM, my ex was at work and I was sitting in bed working from my laptop. I was in the middle of recording a Snapchat video to send to him telling him about something dumb that had happened at work when all of a sudden I hear the beep of his car locking in the garage, so I assumed he got off work early and went to go check the garage. I walked from the bedroom through the kitchen to open the door that led to the laundry room, but when I opened the door, I saw that the door to the garage was slightly open, and his car was not there. I then checked his location to see that he was on his way home, but nowhere near our house, so I shut the door to the garage and thought he had just accidentally not closed the door all the way when he left for work.
I was starting to get a little creeped out at this point, so I decided to work from the living room with my dogs near me so I could be in a more central location of the house instead of backed into a corner in the bedroom. I pick up my laptop and phone from the bed and start walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, but before I can make it to the doorway, I hear what sounds like a heavy box falling to the floor in the kitchen. I walk to the doorway to look and see what made the noise, and as I walk out, my two cats start sprinting away from the kitchen towards the living room. I can’t see anything on the ground that would have made that noise. And then - the Roomba robot vacuum turns on by itself and starts cleaning.
It was at this point that I burst into tears because I felt like whatever this was was completely out of my control and I was helpless. At first I was just scared someone could be in the house, but once the Roomba started up while I was staring at it I knew that wasn’t what I was dealing with.
Nothing nearly as crazy as that has ever happened to me since, not in that house or anywhere else. But one more thing I want to add - My ex and I had broken up while we were still living together in that house, and the week before I was moving out, I found intense, deep scratches all over my back. I don’t know if that was paranormal or me just having an itch attack in my sleep that I’ve never had before, but if it was paranormal, was it mad that I was leaving or was it trying to make me leave faster? I know there could be a logical explanation, but I just don’t know.

When I was about 8, he was probably 16. He showed me his bulge while we were playing in a barn. I grabbed his dick. He taught me how to jerk him off. We would play "cowboy," where we would get naked, and I would bounce on his lap as he tried to buck me off. I eventually started to suck his dick. He had a huge cock--probably 8 inches or more. He tried to fuck me for many years but could never fit it in.
When I was about 13, I was at my grandmother's house, and we were sitting on the sofa. While the family was watching TV, I sat on his lap. We had covers around us. He had some baby oil and he lubbed up my hole. That was the first time he penetrated me. He then took me to the bathroom, bent me over the tub, and fucked me and came inside my butt. The whole family knew he was fucking me.
Once, we were in my grandmother's bed, and he was spooning me. He got it halfway in, and my uncle came into the room and took the covers off of us. He didn't stop fucking me, though. And my uncle jerked off while he watched him breed me.
Another time, my cousin and my uncle took me to a beach cabin. I met a muscular blonde guy who was probably in his early twenties. I felt his muscles and grabbed his cock. The stranger, my uncle, and my cousin took turns fucking me, and they filmed it.

It was 9PM. I was driving to my local Publix. The radio was playing the News while I was driving. "Hey! There's a traffic jam on I-75," My GPS would say. "Turn right!" I turned right. I kept driving until I reached the Publix. "You arrived at your destination," the GPS said. I walked into the Publix. I went to the aisle I was looking for. I was about to walk out the store when I saw an old bluey tape on the ground by some boxes. I picked it up and walked out to my car.
I knew what Bluey was. It's a TV show that came out October 1st 2018. The show was for kids and adults that showed life lessons to both. Most episodes were about them playing a game with eachother or going to the beach or something. My favorite episode was 'Hammerbarn.' The episode was about the kids going to their local store and buying stuff for pizza night. Bluey wanted to have the same stuff as Bingo. When she was complaining to Bingo that he should let her have a turn of having something, she accidentally breaks one of the gnomes. It is a great episode. But something about this tape told me, it was different. There was something odd about it. It definitely wasn't about the kids playing a game or the family going somewhere. It wasn't a normal episode.
When I got home, I put the groceries in the fridge and sat down in front of my old tape player. I put the tape in.
The episode was a normal bluey episode at first. The dad drops off Bingo and Bluey at school and goes back home. He goes in his computer and types a document. It all seemed like a normal episode. All of a sudden, when Bandit got up, he heard someone scream. He rushed out and told Mum. They went out to their backyard to find a dead character on the ground. Blood was flowing out of the gaping hole in it's heart. The parents screamed as they hid in the pantry. When they got in, they heard the door open. Then, it shows a flashback of Bluey standing around a bunch of dead bodies holding a bloody knife. It then cuts back with Bluey opening the front door. He shuts it and locks the door. Mum gasps. Bluey walks through the house and checks in the bathroom. No one. Then he checks in the bedroom. "This is it! We have to escape," Mum said to Bandit. They sneakily crept out of the closet and almost made it to the front door when they heard a noise. Bluey was breathing heavily from a far and raised his knife up. The parents screamed. "Bluey, stop! Please!" Bandit screamed. Bluey crept towards them. The parents unlocked the door and ran out. They slammed the door shut and pressed down on it. They breathed heavily and ran to the backyard. Bluey came out and checked outside. He walked through the neighborhood, smiling. Blood all over her fur. The parents ran out. They got in the car and quickly picked Bingo up. Bingo quickly got in and let out a few words. "Mom. I'm scared." They drove the car and ran over Bluey. They looked at Bluey from the car. She looked, dead. But she wasn't. They drove the car back to Bingo's school and dropped her off. They got back in the car. Bandit turned around to make sure no one was behind them when he saw Bluey standing behind them. "Chili!" He yelled. She turned around but it was too late. She stabbed her through the car seat and killed her. Bandit screamed. He ran out as fast as he could. He kept running to a police station. He dodged all the knives thrown at him. He panted and threw one of the knives back at Bluey. Bluey got hit, but immediately yanked the knife out and kept running. Bandit got so tired, he passed out. Bluey crept up. Bluey raised the knife. Stab Bandit was dead.

THIS POST IS LONG! I really need help. This post has drama and will make you go “oh girl no he DID NOT💅🏼”. So hopefully my suffering is entertaining 🫶🏼
I’ve made posts in this group from the moment I met my boyfriend. Last time I posted, I talked abt issues I was having with him about his actions. This post will be long, so I appreciate anyone who reads/comments.
I’m F(23) neurotypical and my boyfriend is 23 and has autism. I’ve gotten to a point where I’m really stressed out because I don’t know if I should stay or go.
I’ll start at the beginning. We met March 5th through bumble. He told me straight away that he was on the spectrum. He was nervous to tell me and I told him it doesn’t matter to me if you’re on the spectrum or not, as long as you’re a kind person. For the first few weeks he was a puppy. He was shaking from nervousness the first time we hung out. He constantly gave me compliments, texted me frequently, was beyond sweet to me, and gave me physical affection. Eventually, it died out.
I’ve caught onto things that trigger and upset him more than someone who is neurotypical. There’s some things he does that really hurts my feelings. It’s gotten to a point where I’m like “are you an asshole or is it just entirely your autism”. I haven’t said that to him, but it’s in my head. Also for clarification, if he does something to upset me - he doesn’t pull the “autism card”. He rarely talks abt his autism.
I’ll give some examples of things he does that hurt my feelings. He complains a lot when we do something that is more of an interest for me - he’s gotten a bit better since I did bring it up to him. We do a lot of things he’s interested in. I do find some of it boring but I don’t tell him that. I love him so it’s important to me to engage in stuff that he’s interested in. So I kinda expect him to reciprocate that. He’ll do it but he’ll complain a lot and it bugs me. I also talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, he clearly was on instagram and not listening. He gave very delayed responses and wasn’t engaging in the conversation. I also told him abt how I got this super cool art piece from an artist I love. I sent him a photo. He basically said it was stupid and didn’t care.
He can never be serious. I’ve taken this as an autism thing, but it is getting to a point where it’s become a dealbreaker. He crakes jokes all the time, really stupid ones - I mean like 12-16 yr old stuff. Talking abt “sigma” and like horrendous meme slang that I don’t get. Which ya know is fine, except it’s all the time. I’m not kidding. I do this w my friends too, but we call each other mean names in a joking way like “slut” and “stupid”. It’s gotten to a point where it’s all the time. He’s probably jokingly called me more of those names than he has given me compliments which hurts. When we have convos, it’s not convos. He’s always saying something stupid - like jokes. We can’t have a normal conversation ever. For example earlier on the phone I was talking abt my day at work. I’m a nanny. He responds with a joke saying “you should just punt him across the room”. It’s literally all the time. He can’t just respond with something normal like “oh wow I’m sorry you had a rough day w the kids”. This drags into serious convos as well. He can’t even be serious when I’m trying to tell him something that upset me or when im talking abt personal issues like body image. He always cracks these “jokes” and I feel like I’m talking to a 12 yr old.
Next, he doesn’t take me on dates. He doesn’t buy me flowers. He doesn’t try to do anything, he even complains and won’t go grab me a glass of water if I ask. I don’t expect my bf to spend buckets of money on me, but ya know it’s kinda annoying at this point where I have to ask him if he could pay for our coffee. The reason it’s annoying is bc I literally pay for everything. He’s probably paid for our food twice, and we go out to eat frequently. I’ve bought our food every time we go out. It’s like he expects me to pay at this point. Also he doesn’t have his license, I have to drive us everywhere. If he wants to go somewhere I have to drive. I don’t usually mind but it’s also kinda annoying he hasn’t at least offer to give me some gas money considering I take him to a lot of places he wants to go to like video game stores. He will also say he’s hungry when I’m otw over to his place and now I’ve kinda j taken it as “can you pick me something up to eat”.
Speaking of how I spend quite a lot of money on him, which is nobody’s fault but mine… he doesn’t say thank you like ever. I’ll say “you’re welcome” when he doesn’t say anything. He’s gotten better but as someone who was smacked upside the head as a child if I didn’t say thank you… it’s kinda a big deal to me. Also we’re adults, I feel like it’s appropriate. Also speaking of manners… he whines abt some shit I buy him. I don’t have anything at my place that he would eat as I eat relatively healthy/organically. I was tight on money but went out of my way to buy some groceries for him to keep at my house. When we got back to my place I said “I got you some groceries!” And handed him a case of beer I got for him. He cracked a joke and complained abt the kind I got for him and said he wasn’t drinking it. He also complained bc I got him only cheese hot pockets…. like seriously? I didn’t have to get you anything? Oh and on top of all of that he never said thank you.
I feel like I wear the pants in the relationship. I’m always doing something for him, driving us, buying him something, taking care of him. I’m craving that masculine energy. I’m a strong woman but IM JUST A GIRL ! I crave that masculine energy - to just be held and taken care of and called pretty. I’m not asking for a lot. I also feel like I act like a mom to him - always making him food, getting him a glass of water, making his bed, doing little tasks.
Also sometimes I feel like we’re just friends who are physical. He jokes around all the time, never compliments me, doesn’t have any interest in taking me on a date or stuff I want to do, etc. I feel like we don’t hangout and just in each others presence. Don’t get me wrong, I def love when we hangout and do our own thing - like we’re both playing our video games but it’s still nice bc we’re in the same room. But it’s like gotten to a point where it’s not fun anymore. He’ll pay more attention to tv, video games, his phone than simply just cuddling with me or talking with me.
I know this is long but this is the part where the cookie starts to crumble. This is the part where I started to contemplate if I want to stay or go: So I had a very long week at work, like I said I’m a nanny to a toddler and baby. I love my job. I went in Saturday for awhile to help out so I worked 6 days. I work 8 hr days. I had already been mentally/emotionally exhausted from personal stuff, so working 6 days I was even more mentally/emotionally exhausted. When I left work Saturday to go to my boyfriends, all I wanted was to be held. To feel like someone was taking care of me. I get to his place, he lives w his family. His room is disgusting by the way, I call it a “depression room”. My little brothers is the same way. It’s just a depression thing, so I give him grace with that since i understand it from watching my brother. His bed was nasty. So I told him to go find new sheets, then I make his bed for him. Then he has like 20 half filled soda cans on the side table and just trash everywhere. I get a trash bag and clean it up. At this point I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t thrilled to leave one place where I take care of tiny humans and clean up their mess to go to my boyfriends and clean up after him like a child. If I didn’t do it though, it wasn’t gonna get done. What annoys me is he didn’t think “oh my gf is doing this for me, she had a long week at work, let me step in and do it myself since it’s my mess after all”. Nope, he just sat there and watched me. Oh and you already know he didn’t say thank you. So I was pretty pissed I went from taking care of kids at my job to taking care of a grown man child. So I was like whatever okay it’s not the end of the world. It gets worse. He plays his video games as I’m laying there in bed, then turns on a movie and doesn’t even try to cuddle, then he turns the TV and gets in his sleep position. I said “what are you doing?” and he said “going to sleep I’m tired”. I asked him if we could cuddle and if he could hold me like 20x. He had been doing this annoying joke thing where he says “no thank you” so that’s what he just responded with. I’m on the verge of tears. After being so exhausted all I wanted from him was to simply be held. So I got up and said “I think I need to go home”. He shot up and said “do you need your medicine?” And “do whatever you think you need to do for yourself”. To be fair, he didn’t know I was angry with him bc I didn’t communicate it - he just knew I was upset. So I sat on the edge of the bed and started talking seriously. I went on about how I had a long week at work and I just wanted to be held. I told him that sometimes I feel like I care for people a lot more than they do for me. I go out of my way for people by doing things for them or simply just making sure they’re okay mentally. I said I felt like I care for people in my life but I don’t feel like anyone cares for me. I just want someone to care for me, hold me, get a glass of water for me. I just want to feel like the baby for once. I was crying at this point also. In summary, I basically talked abt how I feel like I don’t matter to people as much as they matter to me. It gets so much worse y’all. As I’m finishing up talking I hear the LOUDEST FUCKING SNORE. It was dark in his room and I had been on the edge of the bed and he was laying down. I said “I’m done talking now” and silence. I bursted out laughing. The fucking irony of me talking abt how I feel like I don’t matter to people and then he was asleep the WHOLE TIME? I got up and went to my car and sat there for 45 minutes. I didn’t feel right leaving and went back inside. I smacked his arm and said “you’re an asshole” and started telling him he was gonna get a talk in the morning to which he just responded with a moan and rolled over. In the morning he was awake before me. I was peeking my face out from the covers and he was “talking” to me like normal. Which normal is cracking 12 yr old jokes. I didn’t say anything. He started to hold me and he said I’m sorry 3 times. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say it was okay bc it wasn’t and I didn’t forgive him. We hung out normally the rest of the day. I didn’t feel like talking abt everything bc I was so tired emotionally, I just didn’t feel like having that convo.
So now we’re here. If you’re still reading this I’m giving you a gold sticker and a piece of my heart bc thank you. In conclusion, the problem is he isn’t mean to me like my past boyfriends. He just doesn’t do anything, which is the problem. He doesn’t seem to care abt anything. I plan on talking to him tmmrw, and I guess bringing up everything I said in this post. I’m not trying to change him as a person, I’d never do that. But he needs to change the way he treats me. If he can’t do that then I’m leaving, I can’t stay in a relationship where I feel like I’m not cared about. I’ve had exes do this, but if he doesn’t like that I talk too much abt serious stuff or that we have to have serious convos and everything isn’t fun 24/7, then I’m leaving and he shouldn’t be in a relationship. Relationships aren’t fun 24/7, it’s emotional and rough and requires being able to be serious at points.
That’s where I’m at. I love everyone who read this I am so sorry for how long it was. I’m a Virgo I overexplain

Or do you think both will come back???