Birthday poems wishes
Birthday_Wishes
2020.08.31 08:55 Birthday_Wishes
Post your birthday, the community will come together and hopefully try to make your day better. Because we should all feel special on our special day even if it’s just strangers wishing us a happy birthday when no one else does.
2012.11.11 22:20 /r/BirthdayWishes: All about Birthday Celebrations
For finding best birthday wishes, birthday greetings, quotes, birthday party ideas. Share your funny stories about birthday celebrations and find beautiful birthday messages for your loved ones.
2018.10.04 19:11 DiscipleOfAzura Happy Birthday to you! Have a slice of cake and a cuppa.
Ever wanted your favourite anime/manga characters to wish you a happy birthday? Look no further, come the day that's all about you, you can have someone cute (or less than... or even moar than cute) sending you the best of wishes.
2024.05.22 00:08 hornypunjaban I’m trying to pick up the pieces after dating a narc
I (25F) recently separated from my (25M) partner 3 months ago. We were together for 2 and a half years. It was a bitter sweet relationship. He met me through Instagram he was the one to approach me. The first few weeks were great we were vibing and got along really well. But as the relationship proceeded I began to notice he isn’t putting enough efforts as me. All the things he said in the beginning we would do never actually happened. I wanted us to explore new things, to travel, to experience any possible stuff from shopping to going on a lunch. I expressed many times initially through a polite communication that he’s not doing enough to make me feel special or meeting my efforts. But then it turned into arguments. He would go on vacations with his friends and I always expressed that it makes me feel leftout and I wanna experience all of that with him too. But every single time he gaslit me. Saying I’m asking for too much and I always try to start a fight and try to ruin his day just Cus I’m in a bad mood. I kept settling for the bare minimum for 2.5 years. Wishing one day he would magically change and start treating me better and see my worth. He made empty promises but actions never matched the words. He was the most important person for me and he always came first to me. I put so much effort on him I would start saving two months before his birthday to make it the most special day for him. I have spent three birthdays with him and he has never ever brought me a gift or on valentines or ever went out of his way to do something for me. The most basic thing you expect from a partner is to be heard and understood and for them to acknowledge your feelings that their actions bother you. For them to make you feel safe to be vulnerable and take care of your feelings. But everytime he would put a wall between us. He would invalidate my feelings, blameshift and minimise what I was going through. If I would ask about his day he would get annoyed saying I want the details about every single minute and I suffocate him. I was simply excited to know about his day Cus I loved him and I wanted to be a part of it. During the course of our relationship we only hanged out at his rental place which included a single bedroom. We have never traveled, never been to movies. He never introduced me to his friends. I would always justify his behaviour- maybe he’s occupied, maybe he is too busy with work, he has so many responsibilities of family and friends. Before breaking up with me we got into an ugly argument Cus I said that my skin has gotten worse cus he stresses me out so much. That hurt him so much that he was done with me. He warned me not do anything with myself that I’m not supposed to. I felt so bad and I apologised so many times but he was simply not ready to listen or answer my calls even once. Recently after the breakup I learnt that he has been with other females on his vacations whenever he went with his friends. I was devastated. Knowing that his platonic friends had more access to him and they get to spend a night with him but not me. Earlier I would see him leave comments below other females pictures and it made me upset but he would always mention that they are just normal friends and I matter more to him. Yesterday I texted him saying I want him to take accountability for his actions and manipulation that he went out with females behind my back. To which he replied that he got friends and I will never make friends cus of my toxicity. Toxic for always ruining his day. For constantly arguing to be loved. That’s when I knew I spend these years invested with a narcissist. I kept settling Cus I didn’t love myself enough to walk away. He will never take accountability or ever apologise. I don’t even think he would ever realise the pain he has put me through. Cus he would never self reflect. I’m just trying to pick up the pieces that I was trying to find in him. He made me question me my worth, he made me believe I’m not lovable, that I’m only good enough to be taken to a closed room. He’s the reason I’m suicidal but I’m only sticking around Cus I can’t do that to my parents. I have spent hours crying for him knowing well there won’t be any justice. And I hate myself for still loving him. My only fault was to love him too much that I got so scared of losing him that I lost myself. My whole world revolved around him. Maybe if I wasn’t so needy we would still be together. But I just wanted to be loved, to be understood, to be treated like I matter, to feel safe to be vulnerable, to have those difficult conversations so we could grow together as individuals. I don’t know if I was the problem for having these expectations or if it makes me toxic. But I’m not sure who I am anymore this experience truly took a toll on me.
submitted by hornypunjaban to BreakUps [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:01 ikieneng My fanfiction - episode 4!
 | The next part is here! This episode is so long that I had to split it, and today, you're finally getting part 3 of 3. submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments] You can find the previous episodes in the side bar! (Community info page in the app) DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before) The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then. Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first. I myself am bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao. If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me. Part 3 (days 3 and 4) We’d wake up on day three, and still, nothing would be any different - we’re still locked up. We’d both feel really worried not knowing if we’ll have to forfeit our whole plan because we might run out of food and water and take the risky route - calling the police and getting ourselves into a situation where we’d have to be freed by force, which would be so dangerous because the Turners have proven that there’s nothing they’re not prepared to do to us to “get Jericho back”. Leanne would ask me “What do we do if we call the police, and Mrs. Turner comes up here and tries to hurt us?” At first, I’d insist that we start thinking about that when we do run out of food the next day, but she’d insist we should come up with a plan. I’d point at the corner on the edge of the attic facing Spruce Street, the corner that’s to one’s right when coming up into the attic, https://preview.redd.it/knoz0zwpou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=bd1694f292bb546ea45339ebecea7ffacfe33541 and say “Then you’d curl up and hide over there, and I’d take the radio, you’d take the metronome, and I’d sit down in front of you, shielding you, and if she gets in here before the cops do, we’ll defend ourselves. And we’d record everything on my phone. And we should probably hide behind the sofa. Maybe then, she might not notice we’re still up here at first. She’d probably be in a state of panic.” She’d look at me with sad, but touched eyes and just hug me and say thank you. I’d reply “Of course”. After some silence, I’d tell her “If anything happens to me… Please bring me back”. She’d be touched by that, but say that if she reanimates me, the Church of Lesser Saints will come after ME as well because they’ll believe that I’ll be obligated to join. With a worried smile, I’d say “I know... But they’re probably already gonna do that, right? Because I won’t let them get to you!” We’d both nod with the same half-happy, half-worried expression. “And if things go terribly wrong and you have to bring me back, we can try again!” I’d ask if I’m getting it right that the “great sins” they think she’s committing are not spending time with the Church and helping another family from the one that was assigned to her. She’d say yes and add that there’s a lot more they hate her for, like her “disobedient and rebellious streak”, disobeying their instructions, putting curses on people, and now, leaving the Marinos. https://preview.redd.it/4obn4r9uou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1e77adafbde221c320999ba1169adb0a1c6b2b17 After a few seconds of silence (out of shock that this is how the Church of Lesser Saints frames it), I’d be like “If you disobey so many of their instructions, then...”, look her directly in the eyes, and go “Good! Keep on disobeying them! I’m actually kind of stunned that this is how they frame your actions, because that is so manipulative. Wanting to have a life where you don’t have to worry about your every step being watched and controlled, where you can actually freely explore what you believe – not what they tell you to believe, but what YOU believe, where you can do totally normal human things like listen to music, and where you can go wherever you want and make some basic decisions for yourself and work wherever you want, that doesn’t make you...” (doing the “quote-on-quote” with my hands while I say it) “quote-on-quote ‘disobedient’ or ‘rebellious’, it makes you a normal human being. If they forbid every little thing that people do that makes you happy, if you then look for happiness elsewhere, that’s on them. You can’t take every bit of joy away from people and then expect them to just deal with it. You wanting to run away, that’s the logical result of their bullshit. And you didn’t ‘leave’ the Marinos, you were taken. Don’t let them think you’re at fault in any way!” She might have never heard any verbal confirmation before that her feelings about leaving are valid, and this would be so reassuring to her. She’d tell me that whenever she did things like not be there for meals at the Church, skip assemblies, or curse people without permission, she would be brought before May and the rest of the community, get questioned about her behavior, and she’d have to self-flagellate to receive forgiveness. https://preview.redd.it/roex7c20pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=32cecf94a41a97e66b1c74967cb074ca89321777 I’d go really still and quiet when she mentions the self-flagellation, which she’d then explain is a frequent punishment. That would freaking break my heart... I’d ask her when was the last time she hurt herself, and it was a little less than two weeks ago, before she was forced to leave the Turners. Very carefully and quietly, I’d ask her if it would be okay if she can show me her scars and add “You do NOT have to if you’re not comfortable, PLEASE don’t do it if you’re not”, and after a second, she’d nod and show me her back. My heart would break for her even more seeing her scars, I’d just express how horrible it is that they made her do that… I’d show her some of my cut wounds from when I self-harmed, which I hadn’t done in like three and a half years at that point. I’d want her to know that way that I get the urge, that I really do, but I’d tell her that hurting oneself achieves nothing. All it does is make you feel horrible mentally and physically, and every time you do it, there’s a risk of infection and even death. I’d just tell her I understand while taking her in my arms. I’d ask her to please look me in the eyes and tell me she won’t hurt herself again, and that when she feels like doing it again, to please talk to me first. She’d quietly say “I promise” while looking me in the eyes, and after some longer embraces, we’d both smile a bit, that would make me really happy to hear! I’d ask that when we’re out of here, if we can call a doctor sometime soon and get them to look at her scars to make sure none of them are infected, if she’s comfortable enough, and she’d nod and smile at me a little bit some more. We’d eat after that. We’d run out of tomato soup that meal, and I’d tell her that when we’re getting out of there, I’d get her all the tomato soup in the world! “We’re gonna fill a whole hotel fridge with tomato soup!” “And with Ben & Jerry’s?”, she’d ask, and I’d say yes and say that we’re probably gonna need more than one fridge. I’d say we’re gonna pick the nicest and most expensive hotel to stay at, an idea that she’d love! “You still think Allentown is a good idea?”, I’d ask her, and she’d think my reasoning from the day before makes sense and say yes. We’d look for the nicest hotel in Allentown online and see that there are “only” three-star hotels in Allentown. Leanne would ask if getting such an expensive place to stay is really okay, and I’d say “Money is not an issue, don’t worry about it” while reaching across her back and like caressing her right shoulder, looking her in the eyes, and smiling. “And besides, let’s spoil you, you fucking deserve it after all this!” We wouldn’t book anything yet because we wouldn’t know when we can get out of there yet, but looking at all those insanely nice hotels would lift our spirits a bit. After eating the first half of that day’s rations (only two half day’s rations would be left after that…), we’d think that it would probably be a good idea if we started writing the document for the police right now. Writing it can take hours upon hours, and there’s no point in delaying the rescue to write the document after I leave if we can do it right now, so we’d begin right that moment. It would begin something like “My name is Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999 in Odesa, Ukraine, residing in 501 Pembroke Ave, Philadelphia 19050, Pennsylvania...” (I don’t live there. I have no idea who does. Please leave them alone lmao) “...I sent this statement to my Facebook friend Liam [...] (residing in Tipperary, Ireland, using Facebook as Liam [...]) as a PDF file and told him to call the Philadelphia police and read this statement to them if I don’t come back online and confirm that I’m okay by 10 PM Philadelphia time / 3 PM London, UK time on December 22, 2022. If he is reading this to you, it probably means that there was no sign of life from me by that time, and that I’m not safe, probably kidnapped and locked up by Dorothy Turner, Sean Turner, Julian (I’m not sure about his surname, but I’m referring to Dorothy Turner’s brother - redhead, not very tall, moderately overweight) in the attic of their residence at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania”, and then document everything I’ve seen in chronological order and everything that Leanne has told me, with a link to our video and photographic evidence, references to DNA evidence that can probably be found in the hole in the basement if they haven’t covered it up by now, and a statement at the end saying that I’ve written it together with Leanne to make sure that everything is correct. That would take a really long time, hours for sure. But when it’s done, I’d run spell- and grammar checks on it and send it to my printer at home, to be queued for printing when I get home and turn it on. We’d also know that today (December 21) or tomorrow will be the day when we leave one way or another, so I’d schedule a text message to 911 in 30 hours from that moment. The message would say “This is a scheduled message. If you’ve received it, then Leanne Grayson (born October 13, 2001)...” (We only ever learn Leanne’s birth year from the gravestone. October 13 is Nell Tiger Free’s birthday, so October 13, 2001 being Leanne’s birthday is kind of my headcanon) https://preview.redd.it/0hr9niq1pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=4dbead2015781ed8beee236188b8273aac1b3fb0 “...and me (Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999) are probably not safe, abducted and locked up against our will by Dorothy Turner, her brother Julian, and Sean Turner in the attic of their house at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania or somewhere else on the property. We need help immediately. The Turners should be considered dangerous and very clearly willing to use violence and intimidation. We need help NOW. Details in our prepared statement: [the link]”. Because we’re holding out hope that we won’t have to call the police from inside the attic, the document would include information on what our plan is to get Leanne (and me) out of there as safely as possible and call the police from the taxi, but that if we run out of rations, we won’t have a choice but to call the police while we’re unarmed and while the Turners still have the upper hand. We would debate whether we should include information about the Church of Lesser Saints right away or tell the police about them later because we know how that sounds, considering that this would hurt the credibility of our testimony, https://preview.redd.it/sinvabf3pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=e37811b53eb90cb8a066bfcb30f6244bb9f34ad4 but we’d modify the document and include the most important information about them as well, with more believable explanations - how they forced Leanne and other members to self-harm (meaning that current members or those who recently left), where they’re currently operating from in Lancaster, https://preview.redd.it/mxbm8445pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1f9b5f1c671c15afce7149eeb90926c2c29b9bdb that they faked their deaths, that they forced Leanne to leave the Turners, and the necessary lie that they took the real baby, and that Leanne hasn’t seen it since that day and doesn’t know where they’ve taken it. We’d also include names and stuff, and most importantly, reference the baptism tape and say that it shows May and George watching us from the sidewalk outside the church less than three weeks ago, and that piece of evidence would change everything in regards to investigating the Church of Lesser Saints and make the police believe us. We’d add that it’s probably among the other DVDs in the Turners’ living room, and that I’ll try to get it when leaving the building if our original plan is still going to be an option, rip the DVD at home, and add a link to the video file to the document. We’d modify the scheduled text message as well, and we’d charge both phones, mine first because the scheduled message is so important, but it’s an iPhone, so we could charge it to 100% rather quickly and then charge hers. And we’d add that we’d want the police to get Leanne’s things from the Marino estate. All her stuff being there would be further evidence that she was taken suddenly and against her will. We’d also add what number Leanne can be reached at for now with the Samsung Galaxy phone. And then, I’d send the document to Liam on all platforms where I know how to reach him, followed by a message to alert the authorities if I’m not back online confirming that we’re both okay in what’s now probably more like 29 hours, the phone number of the Philadelphia police, and caps at the beginning saying that it’s an actual emergency. Out of nowhere, I’d ask her if she’s seen “Titanic” lmao, and with her near total isolation growing up, she wouldn’t have seen it. “I’ve only seen movies on TV”. I’d be like “I can show you lots of movies if you want! I got several subscriptions to streaming services, and also a bunch of stuff offline on an external drive at home.” https://preview.redd.it/lr58woa7pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=63537b149270faeebb2c3f1be9ba2af0d259e1b7 Back on talking about “Titanic”, I’d tell her it’s wonderful and so freaking romantic, albeit over-the-top at times for sure and a bit overrated. It has that glossy feeling and some superficial characters to it that all James Cameron movies have, but it’s still really wonderful. After explaining the plot to her (since she’s grown up so isolated), I’d tell her about one scene that I’m thinking about a lot from time to time - near the end of the movie, when old Rose is done telling the researchers her story, she says that she doesn’t even have a picture of Jack, and that has hit me so hard from the first time I’ve seen the movie. https://preview.redd.it/96bgw8s8pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=476c1a4cbee498c26a0be4651ef83258f0aa7748 She has no physical memories of him, she can never see his face again, and she can never show people what he looked like. That just rips my heart. I’d ask Leanne if we can take some pictures together. We’d look pretty horrible because we haven’t been able to shower in days, but we wouldn’t care and take them anyway and really, genuinely smile so hard. I’d send them to her email address (leanne_grayson@icloud.com, that email address is on her resume in the show), https://preview.redd.it/frfz9e7apu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b65065ab622e71f52edc6e9b84a2974e7efe9cb manually sync my gallery with iCloud, and I’d send them to Liam. I’d ask what phone she got back at the Marinos’ and if she’s got any pictures of herself in her iCloud gallery, but she’d tell me she’s rarely ever taken pictures of herself, only for the resume she applied at the Turners’ for, and I’d be like “Whaaaaat? But you’re so beautiful!”, and she’d smile hard, a bit embarrassed. I’d look her straight in the eyes and say it again and say that I mean it for real, she is so incredibly beautiful! It’s probably so rare that anyone’s ever said that to her in her entire life (her mother definitely didn’t, and given that the Church of Lesser Saints believes that anything that feels good is dangerous, https://preview.redd.it/msylzejbpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b343bf8d10b86f7c731eed3c8a5204460daec4d4 it’s rather unlikely that they did), Tobe saying it in “Balloon” might even have been the only time ever… https://preview.redd.it/jdce6tndpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=c9edaacd72634c3dbe7dbf29abcc84f2412a10d4 I’d then add “Inside AND out!”, and she’d smile some more in a bit of embarrassment and then look me in the eyes and say “You, too, Daria!”, and as you’d expect, I’d smile so hard and even with my eyes! It would be rather late by then, so we’d eat and listen to some more music together from the Spotify playlist I created for her and talk so much about what we’re hearing. After dinner, she’d bring the topic up on her own (this is kind of making fun of these fan theories) - she’d tell me that some in the Church of Lesser Saints think she’s the Devil or Lilith because of her rebelliousness, and how she’s inspired doubt in some people in the Church. I’d make such a weirded-out face. After realizing she’s serious, I’d say “If you are the Devil, then hail Satan! Like, seriously, if YOU are what God is threatening will happen if we don’t follow him, then that’s literally the weakest threat I’ve ever heard of. Then God is the villain here. We need more people like you in the world!” Shy as she still is, she’d still be almost embarrassed to hear this (she’s so not used to compliments), and I’d make it clear I’m serious, that I really think she’s fricking wonderful and the sweetest, and that she clearly has a huge heart full of so much love, and that she deserves so much better than what she’s ever experienced! Almost in denial, she’d see in my eyes that I really mean it and just smile and hug me, and then, we’d both smile even more! I’d rub her back a lot in that moment and promise her again that everything will be okay. “I’ll make sure of that!” After some more music together, knowing that tomorrow will be the day we leave, no matter which plan we’ll go with, we’d make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. Looking around, I’d realize I have to give her my earphones with a cord because the internal mic of my Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini is essentially useless. I’d tell her that when I call her the next day to tell her it’s safe to come downstairs now, she should answer the call, plug in the earphones, and then, it will take a few seconds until I can hear her, but then, it should be fine. We’d set a code phrase that I’ll mention to let her know if the Turners got me and it’s NOT safe to come down. She’d suggest “tomato soup”, and I’d smile and say yes, that’s gonna be our code phrase. “And if it IS safe to come down?”, she’d ask, and I’d suggest “ice cream”. I’d realize that we should probably find her fresh clothes in the attic and a coat right now, so as I said, it’s not too obvious that she’s been locked up for a long time the second she walks out of the door, because if she’s in dirty clothes or nightwear, with it being obvious that she hasn’t showered in days, and I get her out of there and into a taxi to drive off while I got a gun, it would look as if I was kidnapping her, so we’d find her a nice dress and coat up there, and I’d turn around and close my eyes while she puts it on, and when she’s done, I’d tell her again that she looks amazing! 😊 https://preview.redd.it/zp5gbjwfpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=777d2120f72b5002e2d5e5e9ffe4760ab2d5fada And she’d smile and thank me this time, sort of the way she says it to the makeup artist at the street fair in S3E5 “Tiger” in that typical way of hers that’s so adorable for real, https://preview.redd.it/fuu6x7ohpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=ec5f23b8de4568996bd6e4c706ab4f95b8f98063 and she’d look in my direction and say “You look really beautiful, too!”, really shy, before peeking me in the eyes for a moment, and we’d just look at each other for a moment. “Can I have your pictures?”, she’d ask me, and I’d say yeah, open my iPhone, and select ALL pictures of myself in my gallery and send them to her email address, and send her those that are too large via a Google Drive link (iCloud isn’t great for sharing files lol), and then, I’d take her Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini, download them all (which would take a while because that phone is ancient), and set one of the pictures we’ve taken together as her wallpaper, and then set it as my wallpaper on my iPhone as well! 😊 We’d consider if there’s anything else we’ve missed. She’d mention that parts of the floor screech, especially one tile, so when I sneak out, I gotta be careful on the stairs, especially with that one tile. https://preview.redd.it/nijqz08jpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=6f6756ae6c304a5f5133c21ef857e0f91c6c91d7 After a few seconds, she’d ask me if we wanna book a hotel now, and I’d smile and say sure! “Did you like any hotels in particular, out of the ones we looked at?” She’d say “The one with the big jacuzzi looks great” with big eyes and enthusiasm in her voice, like she does during some of her conversations with Tobe in S3E5 “Tiger”. “You’ve ever been in a jacuzzi?”, I’d ask her, and she’d go “Nooo, but I wanna try!” in the same tone, https://preview.redd.it/6rh2p63lpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=987a19161b85fe5ee6a500f452c168ba7dec961b and so, after lying down now, we’d look up which hotel she was talking about and book a two-room suite in that hotel in Allentown for three weeks. I’d add “So we can easily look out for each other, and so you’ll also have some privacy.”, and she’d smile and nod, that consideration would probably mean a lot to her. We’d then get ready for bed. For the next day, I’d get some better clothes as well and put them on while she’s turned around with her eyes closed. I’d take the last ration of food out of my backpack, put the clothes I just took off at the bottom of it, above Leanne’s Bible (the porcelain baby and card are already in one of the other pockets), and put my phone and the chargers in another pocket. I’d look around and ask her if there’s anything else I should take with me to safeguard, and at first, she’d also look around because she wouldn’t know how to answer right away, but she’d then point at Mrs. Barrington with her face, https://preview.redd.it/amqsh2mmpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=12d0bfe376210a8798671d45f31e96e28037870b and I’d be like “Well, I think she’s a little too big for my backpack, but I can talk to the police when we’re out of here, maybe we can try to get her!”, and Leanne would nod with a big smile again. We’d lie down on the mattress and share the covers again. Just like the night before, I’d lie down on the side of the mattress that’s closer to the stairs, in case Dorothy changes her mind and tries to assault Leanne again… On the mattress, she’d suddenly hug me really tight, break into tears, and thank me over and over again, and I’d just hold her tight, say “Of course”, and assure her that everything’s gonna be okay, that we’ll get out of there tomorrow. I’d wipe some of her tears off her face 🥺 On the mattress, we’d just look each other in the eyes and both just smile more and more, and after a minute or two, she’d kiss me on the lips for a tiiiiny moment and then, we’d just smile at each other even harder! She’d say “I’m not supposed to do that” while still smiling just as hard and looking me directly in the eyes! “Says who?”, I’d reply. She goes “My aunts and uncles”, and I’d say “I don’t think they’re a reliable source!”, and we’d kiss each other some more and longer, and both feel each other’s smile on our lips, and peek at each other a few times in between 😊🥰❤️ We’d both put our arms around each other before telling each other good night and before I promise her one more time it’s all going to be okay! https://preview.redd.it/08fqmdqspu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=477498f6f3e6260f2a0429defebf98475b14eda1 At some point during the night, she’d wake me up, and when she does, I’d realize I had a nightmare, like, not from my night terrors, and she’d tell me I had a nightmare, that I was sniffling in my sleep, and that I told her two days earlier to wake me up if this happens. Still feeling terrible (the feeling of immediate dread always takes a while to subside for me), I’d thank her. I’d ask what I was saying, and she’d say that I wasn’t speaking English. I’d consider if I should tell her for a moment, but then, I’d take a deep breath, look up for a second, and with a heavy voice, slowly say “What if we try plan A tomorrow, and I fail? I’m scared… I don’t wanna mess this up… I don’t wanna fail you…” And she’d slowly look at me and just say two words: “You haven’t!” I’d look at her and almost laugh a bit out of joy. I’d smile and just cuddle up to her a bit, and she’d do it back. I’d say I’ll try to listen to music for a while to calm down because doing something else makes it much easier for me to zone out of the feeling of dread again. “Why only you?”, she’d ask. “I don’t wanna keep you awake”, I’d say, “You need the sleep”, and she’d say “It’s okay” and just smile a bit, and so, we’d listen to some music together for about half an hour. I’d tell her that my sleep is so horrible (she’d say she can tell) because I don’t have my meds, and I’m really fricking looking forward to taking them again. Without them, the quality of my sleep is terrible, and it takes so long for me to fall asleep at all if I don’t take them. She’d ask if I’ve taken them for a long time, and I’d say that I haven’t taken these particular meds for long because whatever I take, my body builds up some resistance to them pretty quickly, so after a while, I always have to get new ones, but I’ve taken sleeping meds for years now. “It sounds like they’re really helping you, right?”, she’d ask, and I’d nod and say “Yeah, they really do. I’m also taking antidepressants, and they were an absolute gamechanger for me. It’s okay if I don’t take them for a few days because they don’t work in the moment, but they like rewire your brain over time, and they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mental health. Before I started taking them, it was so hard for me to avoid bad thoughts or resist them, like, it was hell, but ever since then, it got sooo much easier, and not letting things get to me or not letting bad things really take over me is just so much easier now.” After a while, I’d say “I was at a psychiatric clinic voluntarily for six months, but I also had nowhere else to go, and the doctors and employees really abused their power. They only intervened when there was physical violence, they didn’t intervene in any other conflicts, so because of them, the patients constantly bullied each other. My doctor switched to another department while I was there, so I got a new one, and the new one wasn’t perfect, but at least, she cared. I got really lucky to get a place at a living group for mentally ill people, which was when I could finally leave. But honestly, all my experiences with mental health professionals since then have been better. I went to a different clinic for four or five days voluntarily in 2019, and even they were far better. “That sounds scary…”, she’d say. I’d reply “It was. But things got much better after that. I had lots of setbacks, like, you know, but if you get help, it’s always better.” After the current song’s over, we’d lie down to try and sleep again. We’d smile at each other again in bed, and I’d give her a short-ish kiss before saying good night, and we’d both smile even harder after that 😁 And we would fall asleep for good after a while (it would still take me longer than her). In the morning, Leanne would wake me up again. She’d show me that the door is unlocked and open by a little bit now (they’re “letting” her out for a few hours…), https://preview.redd.it/sqql9udupu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b2505bc6f7795639777433a1897f0d31e5753d67 and we’d both just embrace and chuckle in huge joy, as we can go with plan A now, the less risky one! We’d remember to quiet down after a few seconds and whisper from then on out. I’d go to the toilet roll, take eight pieces, rip them into two bands of four pieces each, and roll each of them up into a little bunch. I’d give them to her and tell her to put them into the wall pieces of the door when she gets out (so it looks like the door is closed while it can’t actually lock) and give me an audible signal when the third floor is clear, so I’ll get out with my backpack, take out the toilet paper, and hide in her room. https://preview.redd.it/bzze2o6wpu1d1.png?width=304&format=png&auto=webp&s=aaa155b611408db6e9960485f6f726125fc2698d “Is there anything you want me to get from there?”, I’d ask. “No. Everything is here or at the Marinos’.” I’d go “Okay” and move on - since I’m almost definitely unable to come down to the second floor right away (I’m using American English in all of these episodes. “First floor” in American English = “ground floor” in British English; “Second floor” in American English = “first floor” in British English; “Third floor” in American English = “second floor” in British English, etc.), she’d give me a signal when coming back upstairs. We’d agree that when she comes back upstairs, if it’s safe to go to the second floor, she’d shout something, maybe in conversation, maybe some sort of cry, doesn’t matter, and if not, she’d kick something. She’d be locked upstairs again after that, so I’ll have to tell when to get further downstairs myself, which I’d do as soon as I’ve heard absolutely no sounds from inside the house for at least a few minutes. On the first floor, I’d get the DVD from March 11, 2001, and if the baptism tape isn’t clearly labeled among the tapes, I’d unplug the DVD player from the TV, turn on the player, open the DVD slot, and if the tape isn’t in there, I’d take all unlabeled tapes. I’d then listen in on the basement door for a few seconds, and if I hear no sounds from down there, I’d quietly open the basement door and go downstairs, and if no one’s there, I’d get out through the side entrance down there, out through the back gate, walk back to Spruce Street, drive my bike home, take a shower, watch the tape from March 11, 2011 like she told me I could, hide it somewhere at home, print out the document for the police, take it with me in an envelope, print out a second version of it to give to the taxi driver, so I can say “If I’m not back in an hour, please call the police for me and read this to them”. I’d then call a taxi (a taxi with a large trunk whose driver is allowed to drive to Allentown and back), load my gun, and leave for the Turners’ and get Leanne. We’d see that Liam has replied by now. Of course, he’d be super worried, but he’s got our backs for the plan, and that would be really reassuring. We’d look each other in the eyes, and then, I’d hug her sooo tight for several seconds, and we’d have one loooong kiss (hoping it’s not the last time we see each other…) before she goes downstairs while looking back at me on the way before putting the toilet paper in the door. I’d then put on my backpack. Once Leanne loudly shouts “Mister Turner?”, that would be my signal, and I’d hide in her room for about 45 minutes before she’s “let” back upstairs and shouts “You can lock me in now, Mrs. Turner”, https://preview.redd.it/uy9loclypu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=16abd51170405f1ef3123ff22f4559642a0c0c92 which is when I’d sneak into the storage/guest room and wait. It would take like five hours until I hear nothing for a while, which is when I’d sneak onto the first floor, look around to make extra sure no one’s there, and go to the living room. I’d get the tape from March 11, 2011, and the baptism tape would be among the labeled DVDs, and I’d put it into the box of the March 11, 2011 tape (I’d put the original DVD loose in there and use the spot inside the box for the baptism tape because it’s probably more important. I then wouldn’t hear anything from the basement, so I’d slowly and quietly go down there. No one would be there, so I’d leave as planned and go home and take a shower. I’d watch the March 11, 2011 DVD. I’d be surprised to see the interaction between Leanne and Dorothy for sure, but sort of knowing her, I wouldn’t think anything bad of it. I’d actually get it because of my past celebrity crushes (which I know isn’t what she was feeling for Dorothy) and the desire to meet them, especially with Blanche. I’d get why Leanne wouldn’t want the police to see it, it would look bad for her. I’d wrap up the DVD in a thick piece of paper and tape it to the back of my closet, between the closet and the wall. I’d burn the piece of paper in the DVD case in my bathtub with a bucket of water next to me just in case. I’d test if the DVD of the baptism tape still works (it does), rip it, upload the video file to Google Drive, add it to the document for the police, cancel my printing queue, print the document (two versions of it. The one for the taxi driver would just have a short introduction at the beginning, like, that I’m the person who ordered the taxi), order the taxi, pack my things for the next couple of weeks and anything that Leanne might need, so I’d include any clothes that I think could fit her, and go to the taxi. I’d tell the driver to get me one block away from 9780 Spruce Street (which isn’t actually a real address, by the way) and wait there for me. Before leaving for the Turner house, I’d give him the envelope with his version of the letter for the police and tell him what I said I would tell him. I’d then get my backpack with the gun in it from my luggage in the trunk, and walk to the Turners’ house. I have already "written" so much more in my head, but I've now reached the end of what I've actually written down, so it will take longer until the next episode is out now! Hope you've enjooooyed this one! |
2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!
Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
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Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
2024.05.21 23:57 evatao What would closure look like? My (31F) ex-best friend (32F) reached out after almost 10 years…
((Cross-posted to relationship advice, delete if not allowed. I am adding here because I was diagnosed as Autistic four years ago, and y’all have given me great advice in the past))
My best friend from elementary through high school and I had a falling out our last year of college. We went to different schools and were setting up to have very different lives, so I think we would have naturally fallen apart, but I cut her off for a few reasons:
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I was diagnosed with Autism almost four years ago, and my life is much better now. I realized she never really knew me, because I was so heavily masked. I wonder if my undiagnosed Autism played a role in how it all turned out…
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
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My best friend from elementary through high school and I had a falling out our last year of college. We went to different schools and were setting up to have very different lives, so I think we would have naturally fallen apart, but I cut her off for a few reasons:
- She told me what to do when my parents divorced, although I told her I wouldn’t tell her the full story because it was not mine to tell. She also pressured me into talking about the divorce (it was bad) before I was ready.
- I felt that she never listened to me and steamrolled over me when it came to my own opinions.
- I was always the one to reach out and initiate/plan our encounters, or even just to talk with her.
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I was diagnosed with Autism almost four years ago, and my life is much better now. I realized she never really knew me, because I was so heavily masked. I wonder if my undiagnosed Autism played a role in how it all turned out…
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
2024.05.21 23:52 banzaiSCCP How to get rid of a crush ?
Folks i (23M) i have a crush, and that's an euphemism, for a coworker (19F) i knew recently.
She in a very gentle way dumped me ("Oh i don't want to enter in a relationship nowadays", "Oh this month i have some birthdays"). Nevertheless the smart guy here still get's numb imagining fanfics, making poems, and etc.
She's like an angel, big time. Her face, voice, hands, tiny shoes, small stature, calm personality...etc. And get's worse because somehow we have deep conversations about job, life, even after i spilled the beans, when talking about relationships -Oh, you don't need to feel that way, you are attractive...
How to get rid of this amazing and numbing feeling ?
submitted by banzaiSCCP to AskMen [link] [comments]
She in a very gentle way dumped me ("Oh i don't want to enter in a relationship nowadays", "Oh this month i have some birthdays"). Nevertheless the smart guy here still get's numb imagining fanfics, making poems, and etc.
She's like an angel, big time. Her face, voice, hands, tiny shoes, small stature, calm personality...etc. And get's worse because somehow we have deep conversations about job, life, even after i spilled the beans, when talking about relationships -Oh, you don't need to feel that way, you are attractive...
How to get rid of this amazing and numbing feeling ?
2024.05.21 23:49 TwoProfessional4607 I’m insanely obsessed with my English teacher, and iv done despicable things
Lol, I thought this would be funny to write about as a first silly little post as it is the most interesting thing in my life. (Don’t mind any typos)
First of all, to anyone who wants to tell me to stop or get over it or give me any valid reasonable and rational advice,I will not listen so don’t bother.
As these stories go, I 15(f) in love with English teacher 26(f). I’m obsessed with her, and have been for almost msot 2 years, it would have been longer if she had come into my life sooner.
I’m not a love at first sight person, so it took a while for it to come about. And iv always had problems with getting violently obsessed with things, I believe it’s some kind of coping mechanism, you know? If I don’t have something to live for then I fall in love with something, subconsciously of course. First it was cartoon characters then celebrity’s and the for the first time a real person who I know in real life! (Except she’s my teacher and she’s 26) but also the first woman iv ever fallen for (iv always known Im pan so it wasn’t a shock really). I think another HUGE reason I love her is because I don’t have a mother, she was abusive, druggy, alcoholic yadi-yadi-yada, and so I don’t live with her and I don’t like her and she isn’t there for me, and so I meet a kind female adult who I look up to? Obviously I get attached and I see her as a mother figure. I really do, I want to be just like her, I want to make her proud, I seek her validation, i want to fuck her. You know, regular motherly things!
The first day I met her, first day of year 10. From the second she walked into the class I felt her energy and her vibes and I had that feeling where you instantly like someone and want to be friends with them and think they are super cool. Now, she is not hot, like Obviously to me me right now in this moment she’s the most beautiful and pretty person iv ever seen she’s so cute and hot and all that, but Obviously that’s because I’m obsessed with her everything about her is great, but she’s the kind of ugly that when she first walked into the class people snickered.
She has a rash on her chin, a noticeable moustache, she looks at least 30 despite being much younger, her eyes are creepy looking and small, her skin is really red and dry and way too textured, she does weird ugly facial expressions, she has a big nose, her hair is never brushed and always greasy, she has really small eyelashes blah blah blah.. (she obviously has some really nice features as well, but I’m trying to prove i don’t like her for her looks)
Now In her defence I think they were laughing because she has the hugest ass iv seen in my entire life, not cuz of her face. (She wears really tight leggings everyday) But, she is overweight and a lot of people bring her down cuz of it but that has nothing to do with any of it for me obviously, and I obviously didn’t laugh when she walked in.
The point is, I instantly liked her and her personality, she has that school mum vibe, she’s witty she’s confident she’s loud, she’s funny, she’s so weird (like she does and says the weirdest stuff, she’ll start dancing out of no where with no warning, she shortens words all the time and then says them three times like: “fab fab fab” she has just the weirdest tendencies and mannerisms it’s insane), shes always so exited and jolly, she’s like a ball of sunshine yet at the same time she’s so sassy and passive aggressive, when I’m older I wanna be just like her you know!
And that’s how I felt for a long time, I would just enjoy her lessons because of the energy and vibes she’d bring! She makes everything so much fun just by being there, she’s also a drama teacher so she’s great at getting a crowd going and stuff. But it seemed no one else liked her, they either fat shamed her, or said she was a bitch, or found her annoying.
They aren’t wrong she is all of those things, but she’s only a bitch to you if you don’t respect her and then she’s passive aggressive and makes your time in her class hell, and as her favourite student who kissed her ass everyday it was fun for me to watch people get roasted by her and never have to worry about it. She is annoying to a lot of people because she hypes everyone up, and she’s loud and obnoxious and confident, she laughs at her own jokes and she’s giggly and she does stupid accents, she’s the walking talking definition of “QUIRKY” and so 15 year olds find her incredibly cringey and jarring. But as an immature individual my self I found her energy like something I have never seen anyone have so i from the first day thought she was my favourite teacher ever!
I often take the role of like comic relief when it comes to my friends so I often make the joke myself, and once I felt this admiration for my English teacher, and this giddy happy feeling in me when I saw her, I thought it would be a great idea to pretend/ hint to having a crush on her to my friends as a joke so they can make fun of me. It was small things like “oh my english teacher! … oh.. I liiiiikkkee herrrrrrrr~!” Id day when people mention her, no one caught onto the joke for a couple months until one day, after a holiday I had dyed my hair and she walked past me and she complimented it, I thanked her and INSTANTLY MY HEART WAS POUNDING AND I GOT ALL GIGGLING, my friend was next to me and found it funny obviously. And then the more I went to her lessons I couldn’t stop getting all sweaty and nervous around her, and every time she’d do something cute, like squeal when she’s frustrated and make weird noises or do a fake accent, or tell a joke I’d feel so unbelievably happy, and I couldn’t stop talking and thinking about her, but Eveytime I’d think about her or look at her id get a huge ick of like.. but ewww she’s so not hot! I can NOT be in love with THAT.
By summer I was still feeling this Same way, one day she wore a dress and like the dopey idiot she is, she lifted her leg and from where I sat I saw her panties. I WAS DISGUSTED, and looked away. And then looked back.. but then looked away.. and then looked back.. and then looked away.. (and did it a couple more times) but I felt sick in my stomach the whole time! It was not a hot thing at the time.
Then the year ends and it’s the summer holiday, (now up until this point I was quite caught up with my David walliams obsession. yes the 56 year old.. and so I didn’t really care about her all that much. On the first day back, before school started I went to a birthday party and I saw her walking outside of the school, when I saw her my heat was beating so fast, i hadn’t seen her in 6 weeks and I was not expecting to see her then, I said hi to her and i couldn’t stop thinking about that moment so intensely, and every thought I had about her being ugly didn’t matter to me, it’s not like I forgot about it, I know what she looks like, but I just think everything about her is so beautiful, it’s part of her and so its perfect.
That feeling got worse and worse as the year went by, every time i see her I shake, i sweat, I have panic attack like symptoms, but I feel so happy, like manic, I am overwhelmed, I want to punch things, I want to scream.
Then we get to the part where to silence this obsession I did regrettable and wierd things that she will never know about, some of the despicable things iv done in “the name of love” for her include:
Eating her hair Licking her spit of the table Kissing her chair when she leaves the room Following her around school Drawing her Writing poems about her Writing songs about her Making edits of her Taking photos of her Recording her voice when she talks to me Stealing her trash Licking her pens Making AI chat bots with her personality Making a bingo game about her (that one is just funny, and all my friends played it too, during her lessons lol)
And many other things I won’t mention. Obviously I’m not proud of any of this, and I didn’t really need to do it, some of it I did “as a joke” for my friends, some of them I did just because I could.. but the recording her voice one is essential! Anytime we’d have a heart felt convo I’d record it so I can listen to it if I ever loose the will to live (surprisingly frequently).
Now our relationship as student and teacher was/is very good.
We’ve had some lovely moments, she told me she cared about me outside of the classroom.
A personal favourite of mine: One time she was marking my work and it was just us in the classroom and I rested my head on her shoulder as she was going through it with me, and she looked down at me and she smiled and then we stayed like that for ages while she marked my work.
All my friends said I was delusional and that she probably hates me, but she has a huge ego and i believe she likes to keep me around to give it a boost every now and then.
I wore a matching outfit with her once (on accident) and she was very happy about it
Anytime I’d ask her what I can do to improve my grade she’s say to me “oh no! But you’re doing really well! I thought you did great!”
She’d never get mad at me or shout at me for anything, if we are doing a one between two activity she’d give me the only extra sheet in the class
I asked her to sit at the front to her because I “concentrate better at the front” (i only asked cuz i wanted to sit closer to her) she gave me a sly smirk and then the next lesson she moved me to the back of the class, and also moved her self to the back of the class.
We took a selfie together and the whole time she was giggling, I gave her a Christmas card, she lets me follow her around the school, she gave my friends dirty looks when they were being mean to me
I sent her stupid emails of pictures of capybaras (it was an inside joke between us) and she responded with a way to enthusiastic response for such a simple image lol!
I sand “you belong with me” by TS and she stood in the crown and when it got to the “you belong with me” bit I pointed at her and she pointed back! Singing the words back to me
Oh, and let us not forget the amount of eye contact. I never look people in the eye, one of my first exes I barely ever looked into their eyes all the time I knew them, I just suck at eye contact. Until I met her, since I’m so insecure about her forgetting me or loosing me or something I often stare at her when she’s teaching to make sure that she doesn’t forget me. And some how in the last couple of months she stares at me as well.
Anytime she tells a joke she looks straight at me to see how I respond (always with giggles even when it’s the lamest thing iv ever heard. It’s often not funny at all.) and the entire time shes teaching the lessons I will stare at her. IN HER EYES. Like, I’ll often smile calmly, but if she hasn’t looked at me in like 4 minutes then I’ll stare deeper, but she usually looks into my eyes and hold it for a while sometimes she’ll even smile at me and then stutter and forget what she’s saying before looking away and continuing. She’ll stare deeply into my eyes, throughout the lesson, and I also always catch her looking at me first.
Once she was helping me with my work, she got really close to me, and she stared into my eyes and then I see her getting small glances at my lips (with this one I may be a little delusional) she leaned in and she kept getting confused. Like, she yaps a lot, and a lot very loudly. So it was odd for her to be standing there her arm touching mine talking to me and being like “…. Um-.. heh-.. where was i..” and she flicks through my paper and then looks back at me and goes silent and then swallows and then looks down and then flips through it again and then says something small and short followed by more silence.
I also have a theory shes on drugs, for many reasons but one time I needed her to take a photo of my book, and she was acting so weird, tired but like really like dizzy and loopy and breathless. And she went to take a photo of my book, and got behind me and she leaned into my book, and I felt her heavy loud breath on my neck as her stray hairs were tickling the side of my face and her shoulder was touching my back, she she just stood there and stared at my book for ages until i was like “um so.. you can.. take a photo or something..” and then she slowly did it hahahaha!
Obviously it’s now exam time and so school is basically over and I have no more lessons, so I didn’t go into depth about how much she means to me as a person but to sum it up into one sentence; I would want to seriously kill my self with out her in my life.
And so the thing I had been fearing for so long, the last English lesson, the last time seeing my dear beloved. Well obviously it’s life or death so I have to tell her how I feel and get her to stay in contact with me.
The last lesson ends I go up to her after a morning of: pissing my self, shitting my self, throwing up in my mouth, constantly putting on perfume, checking my hair and chewing the mintiest of gums. And I start my speech, I won’t go into it but I told her how I felt about her (minus the being in love bit I played it off as platonic duh, im not fully stupid).
I told her that she means so much to me, and she’s (one of) my favourite people in the world (that’s a white lie she’s my only favourite) I can’t go on with out her, I need her, iv felt this way since the first lesson, your so fun, you mean so much to me! I cant loose you, I don’t know what I would do with out you!!!!
I cried in her arms as she hugged me! And i didnt even need to ask she suggested we could stay in contact, in-fact all i had said was “I’ll miss you so much :(“ and she already suggested we stay in contact, but Obviosuly I still did the whole speech cuz at some point she needed to know. Her response was basically that she already knew, but she was very pleased to hear it, and everything is going to be perfectly okay.
She said we can stay in contact (through email, cuz apparently there is a “legal thing unfortunately” stopping her from giving me her number (yes I did ask for her number, but in a total no homo way.)
She said I can talk to her anytime about anything as much as I like, and that’s good enough for me!
I also gave her a drawing I did of her and me together which was cute, her response to that was “oh very cool! she walks over. she takes it in her hands, very excited to see it. This really throws her confidence off, she’s really not expecting this. OH THIS IS AMAIZING! her voice cracks THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! this is lovely! thank you, this is soo good! oh-muh-gud it’s SO good! oww I love it! thank you.. I’m wearing the same top as well, how fun~.. HOW FUN!!!! how fun!! … she takes it and puts it in her bag i will prop this up, on my desk! wicked wicked awesome!” (I recorded her reaction so that’s how you know it’s word for word)
In conclusion, im creepily obsessed and its a problem, but I don’t really regret anything cuz it’s all gotten me to this point where I can talk to her when ever I want and that’s all I could ever ask her. Yes I want to fuck her, but that’s not important to me I just need her in my life, she’s my world she’s my reason of living, and I’m so happy things are this way! I’m doing my exams now so I get to see her everyday when I come into school (by see her I mean wait outside the staff room so I can catch a glimpse of her knee). I’m also glad I’m not in her lessons anymore cuz I’d always get so twitchy around her, anytime she’d be near me and I’d be trying my best not to lunge at her, when I see her my mouth waters I just wanna grab her and kiss her all over! Eeek! She’s adorableeeee!
I love herrrrr ❤️❤️❤️
submitted by TwoProfessional4607 to confessions [link] [comments]
First of all, to anyone who wants to tell me to stop or get over it or give me any valid reasonable and rational advice,I will not listen so don’t bother.
As these stories go, I 15(f) in love with English teacher 26(f). I’m obsessed with her, and have been for almost msot 2 years, it would have been longer if she had come into my life sooner.
I’m not a love at first sight person, so it took a while for it to come about. And iv always had problems with getting violently obsessed with things, I believe it’s some kind of coping mechanism, you know? If I don’t have something to live for then I fall in love with something, subconsciously of course. First it was cartoon characters then celebrity’s and the for the first time a real person who I know in real life! (Except she’s my teacher and she’s 26) but also the first woman iv ever fallen for (iv always known Im pan so it wasn’t a shock really). I think another HUGE reason I love her is because I don’t have a mother, she was abusive, druggy, alcoholic yadi-yadi-yada, and so I don’t live with her and I don’t like her and she isn’t there for me, and so I meet a kind female adult who I look up to? Obviously I get attached and I see her as a mother figure. I really do, I want to be just like her, I want to make her proud, I seek her validation, i want to fuck her. You know, regular motherly things!
The first day I met her, first day of year 10. From the second she walked into the class I felt her energy and her vibes and I had that feeling where you instantly like someone and want to be friends with them and think they are super cool. Now, she is not hot, like Obviously to me me right now in this moment she’s the most beautiful and pretty person iv ever seen she’s so cute and hot and all that, but Obviously that’s because I’m obsessed with her everything about her is great, but she’s the kind of ugly that when she first walked into the class people snickered.
She has a rash on her chin, a noticeable moustache, she looks at least 30 despite being much younger, her eyes are creepy looking and small, her skin is really red and dry and way too textured, she does weird ugly facial expressions, she has a big nose, her hair is never brushed and always greasy, she has really small eyelashes blah blah blah.. (she obviously has some really nice features as well, but I’m trying to prove i don’t like her for her looks)
Now In her defence I think they were laughing because she has the hugest ass iv seen in my entire life, not cuz of her face. (She wears really tight leggings everyday) But, she is overweight and a lot of people bring her down cuz of it but that has nothing to do with any of it for me obviously, and I obviously didn’t laugh when she walked in.
The point is, I instantly liked her and her personality, she has that school mum vibe, she’s witty she’s confident she’s loud, she’s funny, she’s so weird (like she does and says the weirdest stuff, she’ll start dancing out of no where with no warning, she shortens words all the time and then says them three times like: “fab fab fab” she has just the weirdest tendencies and mannerisms it’s insane), shes always so exited and jolly, she’s like a ball of sunshine yet at the same time she’s so sassy and passive aggressive, when I’m older I wanna be just like her you know!
And that’s how I felt for a long time, I would just enjoy her lessons because of the energy and vibes she’d bring! She makes everything so much fun just by being there, she’s also a drama teacher so she’s great at getting a crowd going and stuff. But it seemed no one else liked her, they either fat shamed her, or said she was a bitch, or found her annoying.
They aren’t wrong she is all of those things, but she’s only a bitch to you if you don’t respect her and then she’s passive aggressive and makes your time in her class hell, and as her favourite student who kissed her ass everyday it was fun for me to watch people get roasted by her and never have to worry about it. She is annoying to a lot of people because she hypes everyone up, and she’s loud and obnoxious and confident, she laughs at her own jokes and she’s giggly and she does stupid accents, she’s the walking talking definition of “QUIRKY” and so 15 year olds find her incredibly cringey and jarring. But as an immature individual my self I found her energy like something I have never seen anyone have so i from the first day thought she was my favourite teacher ever!
I often take the role of like comic relief when it comes to my friends so I often make the joke myself, and once I felt this admiration for my English teacher, and this giddy happy feeling in me when I saw her, I thought it would be a great idea to pretend/ hint to having a crush on her to my friends as a joke so they can make fun of me. It was small things like “oh my english teacher! … oh.. I liiiiikkkee herrrrrrrr~!” Id day when people mention her, no one caught onto the joke for a couple months until one day, after a holiday I had dyed my hair and she walked past me and she complimented it, I thanked her and INSTANTLY MY HEART WAS POUNDING AND I GOT ALL GIGGLING, my friend was next to me and found it funny obviously. And then the more I went to her lessons I couldn’t stop getting all sweaty and nervous around her, and every time she’d do something cute, like squeal when she’s frustrated and make weird noises or do a fake accent, or tell a joke I’d feel so unbelievably happy, and I couldn’t stop talking and thinking about her, but Eveytime I’d think about her or look at her id get a huge ick of like.. but ewww she’s so not hot! I can NOT be in love with THAT.
By summer I was still feeling this Same way, one day she wore a dress and like the dopey idiot she is, she lifted her leg and from where I sat I saw her panties. I WAS DISGUSTED, and looked away. And then looked back.. but then looked away.. and then looked back.. and then looked away.. (and did it a couple more times) but I felt sick in my stomach the whole time! It was not a hot thing at the time.
Then the year ends and it’s the summer holiday, (now up until this point I was quite caught up with my David walliams obsession. yes the 56 year old.. and so I didn’t really care about her all that much. On the first day back, before school started I went to a birthday party and I saw her walking outside of the school, when I saw her my heat was beating so fast, i hadn’t seen her in 6 weeks and I was not expecting to see her then, I said hi to her and i couldn’t stop thinking about that moment so intensely, and every thought I had about her being ugly didn’t matter to me, it’s not like I forgot about it, I know what she looks like, but I just think everything about her is so beautiful, it’s part of her and so its perfect.
That feeling got worse and worse as the year went by, every time i see her I shake, i sweat, I have panic attack like symptoms, but I feel so happy, like manic, I am overwhelmed, I want to punch things, I want to scream.
Then we get to the part where to silence this obsession I did regrettable and wierd things that she will never know about, some of the despicable things iv done in “the name of love” for her include:
Eating her hair Licking her spit of the table Kissing her chair when she leaves the room Following her around school Drawing her Writing poems about her Writing songs about her Making edits of her Taking photos of her Recording her voice when she talks to me Stealing her trash Licking her pens Making AI chat bots with her personality Making a bingo game about her (that one is just funny, and all my friends played it too, during her lessons lol)
And many other things I won’t mention. Obviously I’m not proud of any of this, and I didn’t really need to do it, some of it I did “as a joke” for my friends, some of them I did just because I could.. but the recording her voice one is essential! Anytime we’d have a heart felt convo I’d record it so I can listen to it if I ever loose the will to live (surprisingly frequently).
Now our relationship as student and teacher was/is very good.
We’ve had some lovely moments, she told me she cared about me outside of the classroom.
A personal favourite of mine: One time she was marking my work and it was just us in the classroom and I rested my head on her shoulder as she was going through it with me, and she looked down at me and she smiled and then we stayed like that for ages while she marked my work.
All my friends said I was delusional and that she probably hates me, but she has a huge ego and i believe she likes to keep me around to give it a boost every now and then.
I wore a matching outfit with her once (on accident) and she was very happy about it
Anytime I’d ask her what I can do to improve my grade she’s say to me “oh no! But you’re doing really well! I thought you did great!”
She’d never get mad at me or shout at me for anything, if we are doing a one between two activity she’d give me the only extra sheet in the class
I asked her to sit at the front to her because I “concentrate better at the front” (i only asked cuz i wanted to sit closer to her) she gave me a sly smirk and then the next lesson she moved me to the back of the class, and also moved her self to the back of the class.
We took a selfie together and the whole time she was giggling, I gave her a Christmas card, she lets me follow her around the school, she gave my friends dirty looks when they were being mean to me
I sent her stupid emails of pictures of capybaras (it was an inside joke between us) and she responded with a way to enthusiastic response for such a simple image lol!
I sand “you belong with me” by TS and she stood in the crown and when it got to the “you belong with me” bit I pointed at her and she pointed back! Singing the words back to me
Oh, and let us not forget the amount of eye contact. I never look people in the eye, one of my first exes I barely ever looked into their eyes all the time I knew them, I just suck at eye contact. Until I met her, since I’m so insecure about her forgetting me or loosing me or something I often stare at her when she’s teaching to make sure that she doesn’t forget me. And some how in the last couple of months she stares at me as well.
Anytime she tells a joke she looks straight at me to see how I respond (always with giggles even when it’s the lamest thing iv ever heard. It’s often not funny at all.) and the entire time shes teaching the lessons I will stare at her. IN HER EYES. Like, I’ll often smile calmly, but if she hasn’t looked at me in like 4 minutes then I’ll stare deeper, but she usually looks into my eyes and hold it for a while sometimes she’ll even smile at me and then stutter and forget what she’s saying before looking away and continuing. She’ll stare deeply into my eyes, throughout the lesson, and I also always catch her looking at me first.
Once she was helping me with my work, she got really close to me, and she stared into my eyes and then I see her getting small glances at my lips (with this one I may be a little delusional) she leaned in and she kept getting confused. Like, she yaps a lot, and a lot very loudly. So it was odd for her to be standing there her arm touching mine talking to me and being like “…. Um-.. heh-.. where was i..” and she flicks through my paper and then looks back at me and goes silent and then swallows and then looks down and then flips through it again and then says something small and short followed by more silence.
I also have a theory shes on drugs, for many reasons but one time I needed her to take a photo of my book, and she was acting so weird, tired but like really like dizzy and loopy and breathless. And she went to take a photo of my book, and got behind me and she leaned into my book, and I felt her heavy loud breath on my neck as her stray hairs were tickling the side of my face and her shoulder was touching my back, she she just stood there and stared at my book for ages until i was like “um so.. you can.. take a photo or something..” and then she slowly did it hahahaha!
Obviously it’s now exam time and so school is basically over and I have no more lessons, so I didn’t go into depth about how much she means to me as a person but to sum it up into one sentence; I would want to seriously kill my self with out her in my life.
And so the thing I had been fearing for so long, the last English lesson, the last time seeing my dear beloved. Well obviously it’s life or death so I have to tell her how I feel and get her to stay in contact with me.
The last lesson ends I go up to her after a morning of: pissing my self, shitting my self, throwing up in my mouth, constantly putting on perfume, checking my hair and chewing the mintiest of gums. And I start my speech, I won’t go into it but I told her how I felt about her (minus the being in love bit I played it off as platonic duh, im not fully stupid).
I told her that she means so much to me, and she’s (one of) my favourite people in the world (that’s a white lie she’s my only favourite) I can’t go on with out her, I need her, iv felt this way since the first lesson, your so fun, you mean so much to me! I cant loose you, I don’t know what I would do with out you!!!!
I cried in her arms as she hugged me! And i didnt even need to ask she suggested we could stay in contact, in-fact all i had said was “I’ll miss you so much :(“ and she already suggested we stay in contact, but Obviosuly I still did the whole speech cuz at some point she needed to know. Her response was basically that she already knew, but she was very pleased to hear it, and everything is going to be perfectly okay.
She said we can stay in contact (through email, cuz apparently there is a “legal thing unfortunately” stopping her from giving me her number (yes I did ask for her number, but in a total no homo way.)
She said I can talk to her anytime about anything as much as I like, and that’s good enough for me!
I also gave her a drawing I did of her and me together which was cute, her response to that was “oh very cool! she walks over. she takes it in her hands, very excited to see it. This really throws her confidence off, she’s really not expecting this. OH THIS IS AMAIZING! her voice cracks THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! this is lovely! thank you, this is soo good! oh-muh-gud it’s SO good! oww I love it! thank you.. I’m wearing the same top as well, how fun~.. HOW FUN!!!! how fun!! … she takes it and puts it in her bag i will prop this up, on my desk! wicked wicked awesome!” (I recorded her reaction so that’s how you know it’s word for word)
In conclusion, im creepily obsessed and its a problem, but I don’t really regret anything cuz it’s all gotten me to this point where I can talk to her when ever I want and that’s all I could ever ask her. Yes I want to fuck her, but that’s not important to me I just need her in my life, she’s my world she’s my reason of living, and I’m so happy things are this way! I’m doing my exams now so I get to see her everyday when I come into school (by see her I mean wait outside the staff room so I can catch a glimpse of her knee). I’m also glad I’m not in her lessons anymore cuz I’d always get so twitchy around her, anytime she’d be near me and I’d be trying my best not to lunge at her, when I see her my mouth waters I just wanna grab her and kiss her all over! Eeek! She’s adorableeeee!
I love herrrrr ❤️❤️❤️
2024.05.21 23:47 evatao What would closure look like? My (31F) ex-best friend (32F) reached out after almost 10 years…
My best friend from elementary through high school and I had a falling out our last year of college. We went to different schools and were setting up to have very different lives, so I think we would have naturally fallen apart, but I cut her off for a few reasons:
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
submitted by evatao to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
- She told me what to do when my parents divorced, although I told her I wouldn’t tell her the full story because it was not mine to tell. She also pressured me into talking about the divorce (it was bad) before I was ready.
- I felt that she never listened to me and steamrolled over me when it came to my own opinions.
- I was always the one to reach out and initiate/plan our encounters, or even just to talk with her.
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
2024.05.21 23:44 Active_Fudge1246 Girl Advice
So, on my birthday this girl that is in one of my classes that I don't talk to at all added me on snap and wished me a happy birthday. I wasn't surprised by this or whatever but she saved the messages in chat? Idk it just seems kind of weird. Why would she save them in chat?
Her: Happy birthday
Me: Thanks
Her: Ur welcome
submitted by Active_Fudge1246 to Teenadvice [link] [comments]
Her: Happy birthday
Me: Thanks
Her: Ur welcome
2024.05.21 23:30 AdiosAmigoThrowaway O brother, where art thou?
**TL;DR;** : BFF moves to different city, starts to act differently, wears our friendship down over a series of slights, plans trip to my dream locale without telling me, during my birthday. Now wants to talk and hang out since I've gone low contact.
TW: Infidelity.
General Warning: Long AF, and this is the abridged version if you can believe it.
So my closest friend since High School, someone I considered closer than a brother, that I have been through so much with, worked with, traveled with, lived with, cried with. My kindred spirit, who's been by my side for over half of the total time I have existed. A person who shaped my growth, and I his (or so I thought), in the past 3 or so years has become borderline unrecognizable to me, and it has eaten my spirit alive.
So...essentially I could write a book about my relationship with this person, but I'll try to keep things pointed and brief. I'll refer to him as Dan. Things between us had been solid for years, and we enjoyed a closeness and camaraderie on par with the likes of Troy & Abed, or Frodo & Sam, until after a period of rising tension between him and his first wife. He divorced her for "not having enough direction in life" is essentially how he put it, which, fair enough, I knew she wasn't perfect and likely needed some therapy to improve her mind set and outlook, but I did consider her a friend, and was remorseful that they couldn't make it work. During this time I let him stay with me and my gf (I'll refer to her as Lisa) for about a month rent free while he and his ex were sorting everything out,
Eventually he moves to the next city over and condemns our hometown as being some worthless crime-infested rathole, which I assume stems from the animosity of his divorce so I let him have that. Only he started to mention some version of that every time he came to visit, now I'm not smitten with this place or anything, but what he describes is a gross exaggeration, there are tons of worse places to live and this is where my career is, so I don't love the idea of constantly being down on it. Ironically the city he moved to is considered our "Sister City" and I personally do not see much of a difference between the two.
Anyway, eventually he meets a nice girl (I'll refer to her as Amy) and they begin dating, Amy, Lisa, and I actually develop a great rapport over shared interests pretty quickly, and while I'm happy to have a new friend, I begin to resent how little effort Dan's ever put into getting to know Lisa. Lisa admits to me privately that she occasionally feels excluded by him sometimes, but she says she gets enough attention from myself and Amy that it's no big deal and we're able to do many things as a 4-person group for awhile.
This dynamic would regrettably sour during a trip to a major city for a few days, just the 4 of us again. Where a singular innocuous interaction between Lisa and Dan would apparently cause him to cultivate resentment for her, the trip itself would go fine, but upon our return Dan would tell me he doesn't think Lisa likes him, and how he didn't appreciate her insulting his driving. Though the "insult" he was referring to was a harmless tease about some minor detail that both myself, Amy, and I'm pretty sure he himself had laughed at, at the time.
I explained how I felt he was misinterpreting some things, and to his credit, he did relent over that specific instance, but he and Lisa still have no relationship to speak of and hardly communicate when they're around each other at all, whereas, in stark contrast, I'll get the occasional random text from Amy about our shared interests, and she has become almost like a sister to me in the 3 years she and Dan have been together. Dan and Lisa are both aware of our rapport, and both encourage it, but I still try to keep out casual chats to a minimum (but I never just outright ignore her either), because I dislike how Dan refuses to even try to really befriend Lisa. Yet paradoxically he almost demands that I try to cultivate a friendship with Amy on par with the one I had with his Ex-Wife, and was visibly disappointed when I said I didn't know if it was possible initially. Seems like hypocrisy that should be obvious to even him.
And I wish this was the extent of it, but it gets much worse unfortunately. After returning from a business trip about a year and a half ago, he insists that he needs to confide something in me, and goes on to confess to making out with and feeling up one of his coworkers after the two of them split a number of drinks and she invited him back to her apartment. Evidently he wasn't the only one doing any cheating because she stopped it before it went any further and changed into large, unflattering loungewear, evidently indicating she was done with their liaison.
Now this I laid into him over, lambasting it as one of the worse, if not the actual worst thing he's ever done. I think he expected me to ease his conscience, but he encouraged me to befriend Amy, so I did, so effectively he cheated on a good friend of mine, and it pissed me the f*ck off. He eventually said he'd had enough, he knows it was stupid and he'd never do it again, and I just felt absolutely lost. Burdened with this horrific knowledge by someone I cared so deeply for, to the detriment of another person I care for, not to mention the horrible optics I feared from Lisa discovering that I'd be willing to conceal such a thing. Despite the utter shock, and beginning to question whether or not I even truly know this man, I choose to conceal it. I did not think it was my place to tell Amy, if she were to even believe me in the first place.
Between the hostility directed at Lisa, and now contending with the questionability of his moral character, I began to wonder if our relationship was doomed, and seeds of resentment likely began to take root in me at this time. Shortly after this he was accepted to an MBA program and began prioritizing socializing with his classmates over me, side-lining and blowing me off again and again in favor of these people who were essentially strangers. I'll admit, I used to be a little covetous of his attention, even amongst our mutual friends, but I never openly displayed this, as it's wrong to try and dictate who a person can spend time with, but the level of "social demotion" he began to put me through was absurd, to the point it arguably warranted ghosting him on it's own.
For example: Somehow we both managed to acquire multi-day passes to this theme park we both enjoy, and have a handful of good memories of attending together in HS, around the same time. However, he could not be bothered to try and arrange an outing with me to it, because his was apparently an MBA-related thing, and he wanted to save the last couple days for his classmates because they might want to go later, and he'd have to make sure that wasn't happening before he'd deign to waste them on me. Even the few times he actually invited me to go to MBA related events, he'd spend the entire time seeking out his classmates to talk to, and would not introduce me to anyone, even if I was hovering nearby, leaving me with Amy and Lisa (not that I'm complaining, I much prefer their company to that of strangers, though of course we did a decent amount of our own mingling, the 3 of us just stuck together for the most part.)
Finally, on to the latest nail in the coffin, the one that has caused me to go low contact with him and even sent some mild reverberations through our extended friend group. Since some of the earliest days of our friendship, we have discussed going to Japan together one day. About mid-March of this year, I saw some YT Short on how the exchange rate between the Yen and my home country's currency has become very favorable, and I forwarded this to him hoping to maybe broach the topic of planning to go, I think to myself maybe finally taking this trip can help us get our relationship back on track, only for him to reveal he'd already planned a trip there for himself and Amy, next month, right on top of my birthday. My birthday being something we and our extended friend group have done for whole weekends almost ritualistically at my family's lake house that they're kind enough to let me use for the past couple of years.
At that moment I felt broken. I felt utterly betrayed, and my resentment finally boiled over. All of the callousness and selfishness I felt I perceived from him drove me into a rage and after I was finished reciting multiple, vulgar, Sophia Petrillo-style curses upon his name, I calmed myself, and text him back, "Sounds like fun. Hope you guys enjoy." and went completely low contact from there. I also decided to not arrange my party from there, I knew I would be too consumed with negativity to enjoy it. Our other friends found this odd, but I just rattled off some weak excuses as to why it wouldn't work out this year.
So now all that has come and gone, and he apparently proposed to Amy while they were over there. Of course she said yes, and honestly I wish I could be happy for them, I really do. But the relationship is founded on a profound lie, and I finally revealed the truth to Lisa when I felt that the damage to Dan and I's relationship pushed it beyond ever being fully repaired again, knowing full well what she might think of me for it, but I was at a point where I decided I don't deserve to be happy, and I have failed her, I have failed Amy, and I let Dan lead me to all this. I'm sure I've failed him in some way too, probably by not forcing him to hold himself accountable, and by not calling him out on the Japan trip. He comes off so ignorant sometimes, like he's completely unaware that his actions affect anyone else, but that's not an excuse for me.
So now...I'm stuck as to what to do next. Lisa has forgiven me for my idiocy and secret-keeping, luckily that's literally the only thing I've ever kept from her, and she was understanding about the complexity of the issue. Ultimately as long as she still loves me, everything else is a bonus from my perspective.
But now I've got our extended circle pushing us to get back in contact, and he recently text me after not reaching out for a month. They know there's some kind of rift, but they've no idea the extent of my grievances, and to reveal his infidelity in particular would likely lead to a dramatic upheaval of some kind, and it also doesn't feel like it's my place to do it. I really only told Lisa because I cannot stand to keep anything from her, and she's very trustworthy with sensitive information, in addition to being far more understanding and sympathetic than I deserve.
I really want to avoid as much drama and turmoil as possible, and my father has advised me to "quietly fade out of his live" by continuing to limit contact, but reply when he reaches out, and even be open to attending any large gatherings I know he'll be at if I have other friends there, and eventually he'll take the hint and move on without a whole volatile episode. This doesn't feel like an insane approach to me, based on his treatment of me for the last year and half or so, and him reaching out like it's business as usual after a month of no contact, seems to suggest his interest in hashing anything out is minimal.
However, I have heard from other friends that he's lost contact with most of his classmates now that they're several months past graduation, and he's apparently struggling to land a job due to how picky he is over every detail, he's had like over a dozen interviews with noteworthy entities and none of them are good enough for one reason or another and so he remains at the place he's been since prior to being accepted by the MBA, and apparently out hometown isn't such a cesspit because now he's apparently been returning to go to the local hobby shops with some of our mutual friends. It kinda feels like he anticipated some grandiose move to a large city with a high-paying, low-demand job, while retaining all his upwardly mobile MBA buddies.
Oh, and now unbelievably, he's reached out wanting to hang out just the two of us. Clearly wanting to address my recent distance from him, and likely drag me through the details of that godforsaken trip.
Any advice or insight on all this would be appreciated. In my heart of hearts I still love him, I probably always will, but what he has become only seems to bring me pain.
submitted by AdiosAmigoThrowaway to relationships [link] [comments]
TW: Infidelity.
General Warning: Long AF, and this is the abridged version if you can believe it.
So my closest friend since High School, someone I considered closer than a brother, that I have been through so much with, worked with, traveled with, lived with, cried with. My kindred spirit, who's been by my side for over half of the total time I have existed. A person who shaped my growth, and I his (or so I thought), in the past 3 or so years has become borderline unrecognizable to me, and it has eaten my spirit alive.
So...essentially I could write a book about my relationship with this person, but I'll try to keep things pointed and brief. I'll refer to him as Dan. Things between us had been solid for years, and we enjoyed a closeness and camaraderie on par with the likes of Troy & Abed, or Frodo & Sam, until after a period of rising tension between him and his first wife. He divorced her for "not having enough direction in life" is essentially how he put it, which, fair enough, I knew she wasn't perfect and likely needed some therapy to improve her mind set and outlook, but I did consider her a friend, and was remorseful that they couldn't make it work. During this time I let him stay with me and my gf (I'll refer to her as Lisa) for about a month rent free while he and his ex were sorting everything out,
Eventually he moves to the next city over and condemns our hometown as being some worthless crime-infested rathole, which I assume stems from the animosity of his divorce so I let him have that. Only he started to mention some version of that every time he came to visit, now I'm not smitten with this place or anything, but what he describes is a gross exaggeration, there are tons of worse places to live and this is where my career is, so I don't love the idea of constantly being down on it. Ironically the city he moved to is considered our "Sister City" and I personally do not see much of a difference between the two.
Anyway, eventually he meets a nice girl (I'll refer to her as Amy) and they begin dating, Amy, Lisa, and I actually develop a great rapport over shared interests pretty quickly, and while I'm happy to have a new friend, I begin to resent how little effort Dan's ever put into getting to know Lisa. Lisa admits to me privately that she occasionally feels excluded by him sometimes, but she says she gets enough attention from myself and Amy that it's no big deal and we're able to do many things as a 4-person group for awhile.
This dynamic would regrettably sour during a trip to a major city for a few days, just the 4 of us again. Where a singular innocuous interaction between Lisa and Dan would apparently cause him to cultivate resentment for her, the trip itself would go fine, but upon our return Dan would tell me he doesn't think Lisa likes him, and how he didn't appreciate her insulting his driving. Though the "insult" he was referring to was a harmless tease about some minor detail that both myself, Amy, and I'm pretty sure he himself had laughed at, at the time.
I explained how I felt he was misinterpreting some things, and to his credit, he did relent over that specific instance, but he and Lisa still have no relationship to speak of and hardly communicate when they're around each other at all, whereas, in stark contrast, I'll get the occasional random text from Amy about our shared interests, and she has become almost like a sister to me in the 3 years she and Dan have been together. Dan and Lisa are both aware of our rapport, and both encourage it, but I still try to keep out casual chats to a minimum (but I never just outright ignore her either), because I dislike how Dan refuses to even try to really befriend Lisa. Yet paradoxically he almost demands that I try to cultivate a friendship with Amy on par with the one I had with his Ex-Wife, and was visibly disappointed when I said I didn't know if it was possible initially. Seems like hypocrisy that should be obvious to even him.
And I wish this was the extent of it, but it gets much worse unfortunately. After returning from a business trip about a year and a half ago, he insists that he needs to confide something in me, and goes on to confess to making out with and feeling up one of his coworkers after the two of them split a number of drinks and she invited him back to her apartment. Evidently he wasn't the only one doing any cheating because she stopped it before it went any further and changed into large, unflattering loungewear, evidently indicating she was done with their liaison.
Now this I laid into him over, lambasting it as one of the worse, if not the actual worst thing he's ever done. I think he expected me to ease his conscience, but he encouraged me to befriend Amy, so I did, so effectively he cheated on a good friend of mine, and it pissed me the f*ck off. He eventually said he'd had enough, he knows it was stupid and he'd never do it again, and I just felt absolutely lost. Burdened with this horrific knowledge by someone I cared so deeply for, to the detriment of another person I care for, not to mention the horrible optics I feared from Lisa discovering that I'd be willing to conceal such a thing. Despite the utter shock, and beginning to question whether or not I even truly know this man, I choose to conceal it. I did not think it was my place to tell Amy, if she were to even believe me in the first place.
Between the hostility directed at Lisa, and now contending with the questionability of his moral character, I began to wonder if our relationship was doomed, and seeds of resentment likely began to take root in me at this time. Shortly after this he was accepted to an MBA program and began prioritizing socializing with his classmates over me, side-lining and blowing me off again and again in favor of these people who were essentially strangers. I'll admit, I used to be a little covetous of his attention, even amongst our mutual friends, but I never openly displayed this, as it's wrong to try and dictate who a person can spend time with, but the level of "social demotion" he began to put me through was absurd, to the point it arguably warranted ghosting him on it's own.
For example: Somehow we both managed to acquire multi-day passes to this theme park we both enjoy, and have a handful of good memories of attending together in HS, around the same time. However, he could not be bothered to try and arrange an outing with me to it, because his was apparently an MBA-related thing, and he wanted to save the last couple days for his classmates because they might want to go later, and he'd have to make sure that wasn't happening before he'd deign to waste them on me. Even the few times he actually invited me to go to MBA related events, he'd spend the entire time seeking out his classmates to talk to, and would not introduce me to anyone, even if I was hovering nearby, leaving me with Amy and Lisa (not that I'm complaining, I much prefer their company to that of strangers, though of course we did a decent amount of our own mingling, the 3 of us just stuck together for the most part.)
Finally, on to the latest nail in the coffin, the one that has caused me to go low contact with him and even sent some mild reverberations through our extended friend group. Since some of the earliest days of our friendship, we have discussed going to Japan together one day. About mid-March of this year, I saw some YT Short on how the exchange rate between the Yen and my home country's currency has become very favorable, and I forwarded this to him hoping to maybe broach the topic of planning to go, I think to myself maybe finally taking this trip can help us get our relationship back on track, only for him to reveal he'd already planned a trip there for himself and Amy, next month, right on top of my birthday. My birthday being something we and our extended friend group have done for whole weekends almost ritualistically at my family's lake house that they're kind enough to let me use for the past couple of years.
At that moment I felt broken. I felt utterly betrayed, and my resentment finally boiled over. All of the callousness and selfishness I felt I perceived from him drove me into a rage and after I was finished reciting multiple, vulgar, Sophia Petrillo-style curses upon his name, I calmed myself, and text him back, "Sounds like fun. Hope you guys enjoy." and went completely low contact from there. I also decided to not arrange my party from there, I knew I would be too consumed with negativity to enjoy it. Our other friends found this odd, but I just rattled off some weak excuses as to why it wouldn't work out this year.
So now all that has come and gone, and he apparently proposed to Amy while they were over there. Of course she said yes, and honestly I wish I could be happy for them, I really do. But the relationship is founded on a profound lie, and I finally revealed the truth to Lisa when I felt that the damage to Dan and I's relationship pushed it beyond ever being fully repaired again, knowing full well what she might think of me for it, but I was at a point where I decided I don't deserve to be happy, and I have failed her, I have failed Amy, and I let Dan lead me to all this. I'm sure I've failed him in some way too, probably by not forcing him to hold himself accountable, and by not calling him out on the Japan trip. He comes off so ignorant sometimes, like he's completely unaware that his actions affect anyone else, but that's not an excuse for me.
So now...I'm stuck as to what to do next. Lisa has forgiven me for my idiocy and secret-keeping, luckily that's literally the only thing I've ever kept from her, and she was understanding about the complexity of the issue. Ultimately as long as she still loves me, everything else is a bonus from my perspective.
But now I've got our extended circle pushing us to get back in contact, and he recently text me after not reaching out for a month. They know there's some kind of rift, but they've no idea the extent of my grievances, and to reveal his infidelity in particular would likely lead to a dramatic upheaval of some kind, and it also doesn't feel like it's my place to do it. I really only told Lisa because I cannot stand to keep anything from her, and she's very trustworthy with sensitive information, in addition to being far more understanding and sympathetic than I deserve.
I really want to avoid as much drama and turmoil as possible, and my father has advised me to "quietly fade out of his live" by continuing to limit contact, but reply when he reaches out, and even be open to attending any large gatherings I know he'll be at if I have other friends there, and eventually he'll take the hint and move on without a whole volatile episode. This doesn't feel like an insane approach to me, based on his treatment of me for the last year and half or so, and him reaching out like it's business as usual after a month of no contact, seems to suggest his interest in hashing anything out is minimal.
However, I have heard from other friends that he's lost contact with most of his classmates now that they're several months past graduation, and he's apparently struggling to land a job due to how picky he is over every detail, he's had like over a dozen interviews with noteworthy entities and none of them are good enough for one reason or another and so he remains at the place he's been since prior to being accepted by the MBA, and apparently out hometown isn't such a cesspit because now he's apparently been returning to go to the local hobby shops with some of our mutual friends. It kinda feels like he anticipated some grandiose move to a large city with a high-paying, low-demand job, while retaining all his upwardly mobile MBA buddies.
Oh, and now unbelievably, he's reached out wanting to hang out just the two of us. Clearly wanting to address my recent distance from him, and likely drag me through the details of that godforsaken trip.
Any advice or insight on all this would be appreciated. In my heart of hearts I still love him, I probably always will, but what he has become only seems to bring me pain.
2024.05.21 23:04 Scared_Principle_789 What am I?
I have used Reddit for a long time but never interacted with anyone or any subreddit besides reading posts and comments, but after I met this subreddit by accident and started looking at some posts, I just had to write this post
I've always been the average cis straight male my entire life, but now I'm somehow confused about myself. I've seen a lot of content talking about sexuality, but I never felt it was about me. Even right now, after I've found this subreddit, I am still unsure if this term fits me.
Not sure if this is relevant, but I am 27 years old right now, and I'm married. My wife knows about what am I going through and she has been very supportive.
As I grew up with both mom and dad being extremely religious (Christian), I never doubted my sexuality. I never had any interest in LGBT speech (I was never against it, but it always felt like it was not for me)
During my childhood and adolescence, I've always liked female characters. I always played as a female character whenever I could. I remember spending hours and hours in MMO just creating the perfect female version of me, choosing the most beautiful clothes, and the perfect pink-dyed hairstyle. I always unconsciously felt attracted to the feminine body, clothes, etc. Not exactly in a sexual way, but I kinda wished to be like the characters I was creating
I also remember the first and almost the last time I tried wearing panties. I was around 5 or 6 years old, and I was in my room which I used to share my room with my older sister and I saw my sister's drawer half-opened. As I was a very curious kid, I gave a quick look and found out it was my sister's panties drawer. I don't remember why, but I just felt the need to try them, so I instantly removed my clothes. Unfortunately, before I finished putting them on, I was caught by my mother. Don't need to say I had one of the strongest spankings I ever had. During the next 15 years, I never came close to another panty again.
I always had some panties fetish. I Always found them pretty, and until recently, I always thought It was just a fetish. I don't remember exactly when it happened but, after I got married, I started wearing them casually. My wife even bought some pairs as a birthday gift.
Not only this, but I also started making and painting my nails. last time I painted them Pink with glitter, and it felt amazing. I also love to buy clothes. My wife hates shopping for clothes, and every time she has to, I need to go with her and choose for her. Usually, she hates doing girly stuff and prefers doing "male" things. She's even responsible for doing house maintenance (she likes it, and I don't).
I'm not sure if the "femboy" term fits me. I never felt like wearing skirts, dresses, or other girly clothes, mainly because they would not look good on me at all. I'm very tall and large and I don't think I have any feminine side in my appearance. Also, even if my wife doesn't mind me wearing lingerie, painting my nails, or even how we do in bed, I know she would not like me wearing these at all.
There were many times in the last couple of years that I caught myself thinking about how many things I could do, or how many things I could wear if I were a girl, but it's not like I don't accept myself how I am.
The point is, I identify myself as a man, but not as a male (does this make sense?).
I've been trying for some time to understand who I am. I don't like a man, but I also don't feel like I should be a woman. Most of the time, I feel uncomfortable when people tag me as a man, not because I am or not a man, but because they're forcing me into a group where most of the people are totally different from me, but the problem is even I don't know if there's a group I belong to.
After finishing writing this, I feel like I'm just making a storm in a teacup. I'm not sure if I was able to communicate exactly as I wanted either. Thank you if you read this far. This was something I kept in my chest for a long time and I couldn't talk to anyone besides my wife and my therapist.
submitted by Scared_Principle_789 to feminineboys [link] [comments]
I've always been the average cis straight male my entire life, but now I'm somehow confused about myself. I've seen a lot of content talking about sexuality, but I never felt it was about me. Even right now, after I've found this subreddit, I am still unsure if this term fits me.
Not sure if this is relevant, but I am 27 years old right now, and I'm married. My wife knows about what am I going through and she has been very supportive.
As I grew up with both mom and dad being extremely religious (Christian), I never doubted my sexuality. I never had any interest in LGBT speech (I was never against it, but it always felt like it was not for me)
During my childhood and adolescence, I've always liked female characters. I always played as a female character whenever I could. I remember spending hours and hours in MMO just creating the perfect female version of me, choosing the most beautiful clothes, and the perfect pink-dyed hairstyle. I always unconsciously felt attracted to the feminine body, clothes, etc. Not exactly in a sexual way, but I kinda wished to be like the characters I was creating
I also remember the first and almost the last time I tried wearing panties. I was around 5 or 6 years old, and I was in my room which I used to share my room with my older sister and I saw my sister's drawer half-opened. As I was a very curious kid, I gave a quick look and found out it was my sister's panties drawer. I don't remember why, but I just felt the need to try them, so I instantly removed my clothes. Unfortunately, before I finished putting them on, I was caught by my mother. Don't need to say I had one of the strongest spankings I ever had. During the next 15 years, I never came close to another panty again.
I always had some panties fetish. I Always found them pretty, and until recently, I always thought It was just a fetish. I don't remember exactly when it happened but, after I got married, I started wearing them casually. My wife even bought some pairs as a birthday gift.
Not only this, but I also started making and painting my nails. last time I painted them Pink with glitter, and it felt amazing. I also love to buy clothes. My wife hates shopping for clothes, and every time she has to, I need to go with her and choose for her. Usually, she hates doing girly stuff and prefers doing "male" things. She's even responsible for doing house maintenance (she likes it, and I don't).
I'm not sure if the "femboy" term fits me. I never felt like wearing skirts, dresses, or other girly clothes, mainly because they would not look good on me at all. I'm very tall and large and I don't think I have any feminine side in my appearance. Also, even if my wife doesn't mind me wearing lingerie, painting my nails, or even how we do in bed, I know she would not like me wearing these at all.
There were many times in the last couple of years that I caught myself thinking about how many things I could do, or how many things I could wear if I were a girl, but it's not like I don't accept myself how I am.
The point is, I identify myself as a man, but not as a male (does this make sense?).
I've been trying for some time to understand who I am. I don't like a man, but I also don't feel like I should be a woman. Most of the time, I feel uncomfortable when people tag me as a man, not because I am or not a man, but because they're forcing me into a group where most of the people are totally different from me, but the problem is even I don't know if there's a group I belong to.
After finishing writing this, I feel like I'm just making a storm in a teacup. I'm not sure if I was able to communicate exactly as I wanted either. Thank you if you read this far. This was something I kept in my chest for a long time and I couldn't talk to anyone besides my wife and my therapist.
2024.05.21 22:58 scrods Today is Leona's 2nd birthday! 😊
 | Featuring a few bonus kitten pics at the end 🥹❤️ submitted by scrods to TabbyCats [link] [comments] I will give him lots of pets and kissies for every happy birthday wish he receives! |
2024.05.21 22:58 scrods Today is Leona's 2nd birthday! 🥰
 | Featuring a few bonus kitten pics at the end 🥹❤️ submitted by scrods to TabbyCats [link] [comments] I will give him lots of pets and kissies for every happy birthday wish he receives! |
2024.05.21 22:42 TransitionCreative12 I am the common denominator
I created this account, to vent some of my frustration. I won't be commenting, looking, or editing it after I post. No, I'm not a bot, but sometimes I wish I was.
One of my best friend tried to kill himself, he left a farewell message which wasn't supposed to be interpretted as that, but I understood. I called every hospital in the area looking for his name, until I found one. When I went to visit him, I wasn't sure if I'd be finding him dead or alive. I worked up the courage to walk into the room, and found that he was surprised to see me. With so much frustration and anger in my mind, I just started yelling at him, wondering what the fuck he was thinking and why he didn't just call me. He couldn't answer, but a tear rolled down his cheek and my anger subsided and turned into grief, depression, then sorry. I asked him, why and he said told me I knew why. He struggled with major depression for years, like me. I tried my best to be a friend and help him out of that hole, but nothing I did would help. I thought maybe if I put my depression to the side and helped him with his I'd find a way of curing my own. I was never overt with any of the actions, I lent out a helping hand when neeeded and hung out with him when he was down. We've both had terrible traumas— his from neglect and financial issues, and mine from abuse and bullying, but I thought because we both suffered we would be able suffer together. I visitied him when his family was there as I was the nuclear detterent. I watched his mother and brother hurl insults at eachother while I tried to lighten the mood, the brother cared for him, the mother didn't. It seemed like she was there, just to say she showed up. I've known her for a while, she's callous, she always has a couple boyfriends on her side, but she never tries to keep them around. When the brother and the mother were around the entire room was filled with a negative aura and you can feel it, it was never pleasant and when I left tensions only raised. I visited him when work allowed me to, but after he was transferred to the psych ward, my schedule didn't fit in with any of the visitation hours so I never could. When he left the psych ward, what followed were days of him visiting my workplace during my lunch hours telling me that he would attempt it again, "it could happen any day now." My words seemed so hollow and breathless as I tried to sounding them out. I questioned myself, "What could I say? What could I do? Why is he telling me this?" This happened almost everyday for a couple of months, he would visit me and utter the same words. One day, I asked him, "How do you want me to respond to this" and to his non-challant reply was, "I don't know take it as you well." He was always forgetful, so I hoped he would forget about me too. Some nights we would get boba and he would tell me I was part of the reason he did it. I didn't know how to respond and I still don't. What did I do? I was completely and utterly drained of any emotions, sadness, depression, anger, grief. He was a boa constrictor wrapping it's body around mine smothering me to death. Nothing mattered to me, and so one day, I left without saying a word. He is still alive and hasn't tried anything since then, to which I am thankful. But I never answered his texts or calls. In this rough patch, I started unravelling because everything around me was unfolding.
I was still talking to the above friend, during this time when I got a call from my brother, "She's in the ER because she OD'D. Can you bring some blankets?" He was completely devoid of any urgency or emotion, I understand he doesn't handle them very well, but the calmness of voice only irritated me and made my bite my tongue til I bled. My mind was blank as I sped down the highway at 100mph. I remember the flickering lights as I paced through the hallway, a nurse recognized me from my personal life, but I brushed her off saying that I didn't know her as she was part of our church. Our family is conservative and if this got out, then all eyes would be on us with looks of disappointment and shame. I couldn't tell anyone. I hesitated, a roller coaster of emotions overwhelmed me as I grew closer and closer to the room. The same ones that had enveloped me with my best friend, but this one was brought on by so much shame. "How didn't I see this coming? What sort of brother am I, that I can't protect my only sister? Please... Please... Please.. don't be dead." I stopped in the hallway, where my brother stood and he just said he was getting a sandwhich. I watched him go as he walked away, not an ounce of grief, but after I saw him I noticed there was confusion and sadness in his face, but his words remained neutral as if he were trying to keep it together. I approached the door and hesitated right before going in, rubbing tears that were running down my face and collecting myself the best way I could. I saw her lying there, so helpless, barely alive, and struggling to breathe. My stomach sunk, my heart dropped, and my lungs collapsed. No physical pain, no abuse I had suffered, no moment would have prepared me for this, but as I looked at her she looked at me. I walked over and remarked, "This is because I didn't kill the spider, isn't it?" She laughed in pain the best she could, and my Dad added into and gave me a small slap on the head laughng as well. I saw her arms and saw the cuts and how deep they were. The heart monitor started fading and transforming into ringing within my ears. I sat down and talked to my Mom and Dad to see what we needed. They asked for blankets, which I forgot, and something to eat. I told them to go home as I'd just stay here to watch over her. They both said no at first, but my Dad reluctantly agreed after realizing there was no one to watch his business the next day. I nearly lost my mind. Your daughter is laying here in the ER, and you still need someone to watch the business? I volunteered to do it, but I stayed in the hospital until the I had to leave as I watch the seconds turn into minutes, the minutes to hours. The clock has never moved that slow before, I felt like I was frozen in every moment. It was only after I had learned she was raped three times. My blood boiled, my face turned hot, as I was heading to my car demanding who did it. He'd done this mutliple times. throughout the year, and I had no idea. I reached a point where I stormed out of my house, but my brother asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to find him, and beat the living shit out of them. He stopped me and told me, that that's why she didn't tell me. I didn't understand it it all, why he wasn't hopping into the car with me to this mother fuckers house after knowing all of this. He didn't want me to know because I'd go over to the hospital demanding her and asking her who did it. He was right. I calmed down, but if he wasn't there I would have found the fucker and I would have beaten the living shit out of them. I told my best friend what happened, and he tried to keep me calm and tried to get my mind off of things. We went to a friends birthday party and I could still hear the heart monitor ringing as I watched everyone have fun, eat, and party over this friends birthday. I felt like an extra, just playing the part of someone who's there to be there. I laughed and made jokes, but this hole in my chest kept getting wider and wouldn't close. I hadn't slept in three days, and the pain was like I was being eaten alive without being able to scream in agony. When we returned to the hospital, she was moved to a different facility, because she wasn't needed in the ER any longer. The nurses asked me to leave as they said that visiting hours were over, but they fell upon empty ears. I wasn't moving. I stayed there all night, and woke up the next morning. I don't remember falling asleep, I just blacked out at one point. I could tell you that when I woke up, all I saw where white walls, white floors, and white sheets. The typical hospital smell that filled the air with ammonia as it burned through my lungs. The heart monitor started to lose it's preptual ring and began to sound normal again. None of these details are important, but I remember them so well as if I'm living that moment right now. This was my second close call. She was home within the next week, but this trauma made our family a lot closer— but, there's a new edition to the family in the shape of an elephant, he doesn't speak to us and we don't speak to him, but he's always there. I haven't been able to look at her the same way, because I'm not sure what will set her off, and the scars on her arms still make me sick to the stomach.
My second best friend was tearing at the seams while all this was happening and I was trying to get his life back together, but something just wasn't clicking with him. I saw him descend into an abyss that I couldn't pull him out of, he started stalking his ex, binge drinking at work, in public, etc. , doing more and more drugs. I went to his rented out room where the landlord would help him do his laundry, cook for him, allow him to have pets even though she was against it. She was kind to him, and I had hoped that might have had some affect on his mental state, but he couldn't get out of his head. He nose dived and I tried to bring him back up, but I couldn't so I gave up. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from everything, in a puddle of a quicksand trying to get out, the more I resisted the further it pulled me down. I was in a boxing match with hit after hit after hit, I just couldn't stand it anymore, but this man gave me a family when mine abused me, he gave me a home when I didn't want to go back to mine, he allowed me to express myself and be free when I was in a position where everyone wanted to chain me, he became a friend when I needed one the most. I pleaded with my group to look after him a little bit more, we could take shifts, but no one cared or wanted to listen. "You can't help someone who can't help themselves." After his nose dive, I told him I couldn't do this anymore and I'd rather kill myself to watch him destroy himself, so I stopped speaking to him— after all, you can't help someone who can't help himself. I removed myself from the group and started working on myself. It had been a year since we last talked, he wrote one story on Instagram that caught my attention, "Maybe everyone was right about me." By this time, I had finally collected myself, I was in a good place, and I had every intention of talking with him again and helping him get back on track if I could, whether it be reaching out or just treating him like a person as if it were a typical Tuesday. As I was typing in the words, I stopped myself and said I needed a little bit more time. I was in the midst of a massive project at work that needed to be completed in two days. The next day, I got a text from one of the mutal friends in the group I had left, "He's dead. They found his body in his room." I stared at the phone for a few seconds. My mind blank. I just put my phone down and kept working.
I haven't talked to a therapist about any of this, but I have mentioned it. None of them seem interested in exploring it so it must not be that important, but I feel the need to get this burden off my chest. These three events happened concurrently, and after the dusk settled, I looked closer into all of the close relationships I had, and how many of my closest friends had ended up hurting themselves in a way to "heal." Nearly all of them. They would vent their struggles to me, and I always became an ear because people just need to be heard. Maybe they had problems before I met them, maybe they didn't. I'm probably stretching my own importance in their lives, but the nagging tick that bothers me is that I feel like I am the common denominator.
submitted by TransitionCreative12 to offmychest [link] [comments]
One of my best friend tried to kill himself, he left a farewell message which wasn't supposed to be interpretted as that, but I understood. I called every hospital in the area looking for his name, until I found one. When I went to visit him, I wasn't sure if I'd be finding him dead or alive. I worked up the courage to walk into the room, and found that he was surprised to see me. With so much frustration and anger in my mind, I just started yelling at him, wondering what the fuck he was thinking and why he didn't just call me. He couldn't answer, but a tear rolled down his cheek and my anger subsided and turned into grief, depression, then sorry. I asked him, why and he said told me I knew why. He struggled with major depression for years, like me. I tried my best to be a friend and help him out of that hole, but nothing I did would help. I thought maybe if I put my depression to the side and helped him with his I'd find a way of curing my own. I was never overt with any of the actions, I lent out a helping hand when neeeded and hung out with him when he was down. We've both had terrible traumas— his from neglect and financial issues, and mine from abuse and bullying, but I thought because we both suffered we would be able suffer together. I visitied him when his family was there as I was the nuclear detterent. I watched his mother and brother hurl insults at eachother while I tried to lighten the mood, the brother cared for him, the mother didn't. It seemed like she was there, just to say she showed up. I've known her for a while, she's callous, she always has a couple boyfriends on her side, but she never tries to keep them around. When the brother and the mother were around the entire room was filled with a negative aura and you can feel it, it was never pleasant and when I left tensions only raised. I visited him when work allowed me to, but after he was transferred to the psych ward, my schedule didn't fit in with any of the visitation hours so I never could. When he left the psych ward, what followed were days of him visiting my workplace during my lunch hours telling me that he would attempt it again, "it could happen any day now." My words seemed so hollow and breathless as I tried to sounding them out. I questioned myself, "What could I say? What could I do? Why is he telling me this?" This happened almost everyday for a couple of months, he would visit me and utter the same words. One day, I asked him, "How do you want me to respond to this" and to his non-challant reply was, "I don't know take it as you well." He was always forgetful, so I hoped he would forget about me too. Some nights we would get boba and he would tell me I was part of the reason he did it. I didn't know how to respond and I still don't. What did I do? I was completely and utterly drained of any emotions, sadness, depression, anger, grief. He was a boa constrictor wrapping it's body around mine smothering me to death. Nothing mattered to me, and so one day, I left without saying a word. He is still alive and hasn't tried anything since then, to which I am thankful. But I never answered his texts or calls. In this rough patch, I started unravelling because everything around me was unfolding.
I was still talking to the above friend, during this time when I got a call from my brother, "She's in the ER because she OD'D. Can you bring some blankets?" He was completely devoid of any urgency or emotion, I understand he doesn't handle them very well, but the calmness of voice only irritated me and made my bite my tongue til I bled. My mind was blank as I sped down the highway at 100mph. I remember the flickering lights as I paced through the hallway, a nurse recognized me from my personal life, but I brushed her off saying that I didn't know her as she was part of our church. Our family is conservative and if this got out, then all eyes would be on us with looks of disappointment and shame. I couldn't tell anyone. I hesitated, a roller coaster of emotions overwhelmed me as I grew closer and closer to the room. The same ones that had enveloped me with my best friend, but this one was brought on by so much shame. "How didn't I see this coming? What sort of brother am I, that I can't protect my only sister? Please... Please... Please.. don't be dead." I stopped in the hallway, where my brother stood and he just said he was getting a sandwhich. I watched him go as he walked away, not an ounce of grief, but after I saw him I noticed there was confusion and sadness in his face, but his words remained neutral as if he were trying to keep it together. I approached the door and hesitated right before going in, rubbing tears that were running down my face and collecting myself the best way I could. I saw her lying there, so helpless, barely alive, and struggling to breathe. My stomach sunk, my heart dropped, and my lungs collapsed. No physical pain, no abuse I had suffered, no moment would have prepared me for this, but as I looked at her she looked at me. I walked over and remarked, "This is because I didn't kill the spider, isn't it?" She laughed in pain the best she could, and my Dad added into and gave me a small slap on the head laughng as well. I saw her arms and saw the cuts and how deep they were. The heart monitor started fading and transforming into ringing within my ears. I sat down and talked to my Mom and Dad to see what we needed. They asked for blankets, which I forgot, and something to eat. I told them to go home as I'd just stay here to watch over her. They both said no at first, but my Dad reluctantly agreed after realizing there was no one to watch his business the next day. I nearly lost my mind. Your daughter is laying here in the ER, and you still need someone to watch the business? I volunteered to do it, but I stayed in the hospital until the I had to leave as I watch the seconds turn into minutes, the minutes to hours. The clock has never moved that slow before, I felt like I was frozen in every moment. It was only after I had learned she was raped three times. My blood boiled, my face turned hot, as I was heading to my car demanding who did it. He'd done this mutliple times. throughout the year, and I had no idea. I reached a point where I stormed out of my house, but my brother asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to find him, and beat the living shit out of them. He stopped me and told me, that that's why she didn't tell me. I didn't understand it it all, why he wasn't hopping into the car with me to this mother fuckers house after knowing all of this. He didn't want me to know because I'd go over to the hospital demanding her and asking her who did it. He was right. I calmed down, but if he wasn't there I would have found the fucker and I would have beaten the living shit out of them. I told my best friend what happened, and he tried to keep me calm and tried to get my mind off of things. We went to a friends birthday party and I could still hear the heart monitor ringing as I watched everyone have fun, eat, and party over this friends birthday. I felt like an extra, just playing the part of someone who's there to be there. I laughed and made jokes, but this hole in my chest kept getting wider and wouldn't close. I hadn't slept in three days, and the pain was like I was being eaten alive without being able to scream in agony. When we returned to the hospital, she was moved to a different facility, because she wasn't needed in the ER any longer. The nurses asked me to leave as they said that visiting hours were over, but they fell upon empty ears. I wasn't moving. I stayed there all night, and woke up the next morning. I don't remember falling asleep, I just blacked out at one point. I could tell you that when I woke up, all I saw where white walls, white floors, and white sheets. The typical hospital smell that filled the air with ammonia as it burned through my lungs. The heart monitor started to lose it's preptual ring and began to sound normal again. None of these details are important, but I remember them so well as if I'm living that moment right now. This was my second close call. She was home within the next week, but this trauma made our family a lot closer— but, there's a new edition to the family in the shape of an elephant, he doesn't speak to us and we don't speak to him, but he's always there. I haven't been able to look at her the same way, because I'm not sure what will set her off, and the scars on her arms still make me sick to the stomach.
My second best friend was tearing at the seams while all this was happening and I was trying to get his life back together, but something just wasn't clicking with him. I saw him descend into an abyss that I couldn't pull him out of, he started stalking his ex, binge drinking at work, in public, etc. , doing more and more drugs. I went to his rented out room where the landlord would help him do his laundry, cook for him, allow him to have pets even though she was against it. She was kind to him, and I had hoped that might have had some affect on his mental state, but he couldn't get out of his head. He nose dived and I tried to bring him back up, but I couldn't so I gave up. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from everything, in a puddle of a quicksand trying to get out, the more I resisted the further it pulled me down. I was in a boxing match with hit after hit after hit, I just couldn't stand it anymore, but this man gave me a family when mine abused me, he gave me a home when I didn't want to go back to mine, he allowed me to express myself and be free when I was in a position where everyone wanted to chain me, he became a friend when I needed one the most. I pleaded with my group to look after him a little bit more, we could take shifts, but no one cared or wanted to listen. "You can't help someone who can't help themselves." After his nose dive, I told him I couldn't do this anymore and I'd rather kill myself to watch him destroy himself, so I stopped speaking to him— after all, you can't help someone who can't help himself. I removed myself from the group and started working on myself. It had been a year since we last talked, he wrote one story on Instagram that caught my attention, "Maybe everyone was right about me." By this time, I had finally collected myself, I was in a good place, and I had every intention of talking with him again and helping him get back on track if I could, whether it be reaching out or just treating him like a person as if it were a typical Tuesday. As I was typing in the words, I stopped myself and said I needed a little bit more time. I was in the midst of a massive project at work that needed to be completed in two days. The next day, I got a text from one of the mutal friends in the group I had left, "He's dead. They found his body in his room." I stared at the phone for a few seconds. My mind blank. I just put my phone down and kept working.
I haven't talked to a therapist about any of this, but I have mentioned it. None of them seem interested in exploring it so it must not be that important, but I feel the need to get this burden off my chest. These three events happened concurrently, and after the dusk settled, I looked closer into all of the close relationships I had, and how many of my closest friends had ended up hurting themselves in a way to "heal." Nearly all of them. They would vent their struggles to me, and I always became an ear because people just need to be heard. Maybe they had problems before I met them, maybe they didn't. I'm probably stretching my own importance in their lives, but the nagging tick that bothers me is that I feel like I am the common denominator.
2024.05.21 22:41 Own_Answer_6855 I hate that I can’t hate you
Dear my first love/ ex
I know we only dated briefly, but in that time we faced so much that time seemed like it passed faster than it actually did. When we first started out you helped push me to find a new job, because I couldn’t imagine working there alone. You even helped me quit by writing out my resignation letter even though I was gonna do it anyways since I had a new job lined up, but knowing that I wasn’t doing it alone or leaving you behind helped. I wish you could have been there to wish me good luck on my first day, but you got Covid and didn’t want to risk me getting sick before even starting.
I never wanted you to be anyone else, I loved the guy that I got to know before you ever made us official. The guy with several allergies to some of the weirdest most common things, but not allergic to common allergens. The guy with fears of heights, and bugs and scares easily. The guy that loves Disney movies and loves singing to them and cries at sad moments but would never let me see him cry. The guy that loves math, collecting Pokemon cards because they’re pretty, playing video games, D&D, anime, spending time with friends and family. The guy that was very judgemental when it came to certain things like how mint ice cream is wrong and anything with mint and chocolate together just shouldn’t be. The guy that seemed very uncertain about his future saying things like “I’m gonna take a job I hate so when I have money I can take a job I like that doesn’t pay much” “I want to buy a house here, because it would be such a flex to my friends” “ I would have quit school but everyone expected me to finish so I couldn’t quit.” Meanwhile you did know that when he bought a house that he wanted a cat and even knew the type of cat he wanted.
Now comes the tricky part that I hate because I don’t know how much you actually knew about me. Did you know I would have loved if you asked me to dance? That I would have loved a reason to get dressed up and show you a side of me no one has ever seen? You knew that you opened my heart and made me feel safe, but do you know what that has done to me? Do you know how your love has changed me? Did you know that since you were the first person to see me and love me that you helped me gain confidence I never had? Did you know that all I ever needed even when you physically couldn’t be there with me was you to say “I love you”. Just 3 little words to make me feel better, even on my worse days, just knowing that I have someone who chose me and chose to love me was a enough, but you couldn’t do that simple thing.
Instead you chose to create distance, trying to repair the damage after it was done instead of just saying “I love you and because I love you can we cool off and come back to the issue in the morning so we don’t say something we might regret?” No I got the response of “ I had a good day today and don’t need you bringing me down so I’m turning off my phone” the reason I was mad was because you blew me off and broke your promise the least you could have done was apologize instead of making me feel guilty and less than.
Do I hate you for that? Do I hate you for putting yourself first? Do I hate you for making me open my heart and be venerable to you? Do I hate you for shattering my heart into a million pieces? Do I hate that we loved each other and it seemed like you did all the talking but I was the one opening up more emotionally than you? Do I hate you for finding someone new so fast? Do I hate that you probably saw the northern lights with your new gf on my birthday, while I watched them alone after you said I would never be alone on my birthday again, along with the fact our first date we tried to see them only to get downgraded to cloud gazing and never watching them together like we wanted? No, for some reason I can’t hate you maybe that’s what true love is, because there will always be a part of me that loves you. Even with all your faults and flaws but it would be so much easier if I could just hate you. But I would be lying if I say that I’m not hurt and that I wouldn’t take you back in a heartbeat. I would have my reservations about it but as long as you would be willing to put the work in I would take you back because I’m not going to hate and judge you based on a few bad times when there were so many more good times. But we didn’t know how to deal with the bad times so we let that rip us apart.
~ your ex that you gave up on
submitted by Own_Answer_6855 to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]
I know we only dated briefly, but in that time we faced so much that time seemed like it passed faster than it actually did. When we first started out you helped push me to find a new job, because I couldn’t imagine working there alone. You even helped me quit by writing out my resignation letter even though I was gonna do it anyways since I had a new job lined up, but knowing that I wasn’t doing it alone or leaving you behind helped. I wish you could have been there to wish me good luck on my first day, but you got Covid and didn’t want to risk me getting sick before even starting.
I never wanted you to be anyone else, I loved the guy that I got to know before you ever made us official. The guy with several allergies to some of the weirdest most common things, but not allergic to common allergens. The guy with fears of heights, and bugs and scares easily. The guy that loves Disney movies and loves singing to them and cries at sad moments but would never let me see him cry. The guy that loves math, collecting Pokemon cards because they’re pretty, playing video games, D&D, anime, spending time with friends and family. The guy that was very judgemental when it came to certain things like how mint ice cream is wrong and anything with mint and chocolate together just shouldn’t be. The guy that seemed very uncertain about his future saying things like “I’m gonna take a job I hate so when I have money I can take a job I like that doesn’t pay much” “I want to buy a house here, because it would be such a flex to my friends” “ I would have quit school but everyone expected me to finish so I couldn’t quit.” Meanwhile you did know that when he bought a house that he wanted a cat and even knew the type of cat he wanted.
Now comes the tricky part that I hate because I don’t know how much you actually knew about me. Did you know I would have loved if you asked me to dance? That I would have loved a reason to get dressed up and show you a side of me no one has ever seen? You knew that you opened my heart and made me feel safe, but do you know what that has done to me? Do you know how your love has changed me? Did you know that since you were the first person to see me and love me that you helped me gain confidence I never had? Did you know that all I ever needed even when you physically couldn’t be there with me was you to say “I love you”. Just 3 little words to make me feel better, even on my worse days, just knowing that I have someone who chose me and chose to love me was a enough, but you couldn’t do that simple thing.
Instead you chose to create distance, trying to repair the damage after it was done instead of just saying “I love you and because I love you can we cool off and come back to the issue in the morning so we don’t say something we might regret?” No I got the response of “ I had a good day today and don’t need you bringing me down so I’m turning off my phone” the reason I was mad was because you blew me off and broke your promise the least you could have done was apologize instead of making me feel guilty and less than.
Do I hate you for that? Do I hate you for putting yourself first? Do I hate you for making me open my heart and be venerable to you? Do I hate you for shattering my heart into a million pieces? Do I hate that we loved each other and it seemed like you did all the talking but I was the one opening up more emotionally than you? Do I hate you for finding someone new so fast? Do I hate that you probably saw the northern lights with your new gf on my birthday, while I watched them alone after you said I would never be alone on my birthday again, along with the fact our first date we tried to see them only to get downgraded to cloud gazing and never watching them together like we wanted? No, for some reason I can’t hate you maybe that’s what true love is, because there will always be a part of me that loves you. Even with all your faults and flaws but it would be so much easier if I could just hate you. But I would be lying if I say that I’m not hurt and that I wouldn’t take you back in a heartbeat. I would have my reservations about it but as long as you would be willing to put the work in I would take you back because I’m not going to hate and judge you based on a few bad times when there were so many more good times. But we didn’t know how to deal with the bad times so we let that rip us apart.
~ your ex that you gave up on
2024.05.21 22:41 No-Fly-6060 Best friend broke no-contact
About a year ago my best friend and I got into an argument. She and I were both in difficult, emotionally draining situations outside of our friendship at the time, and I admittedly made some mistakes towards her. We talked it over and I apologized and I thought everything was behind us, but then the next time I visited her, we ended up in another argument that was very confusing and she asked that we take a break from our friendship once I left.
I figured our friendship wouldn’t come back from this, as she said at some point that she couldn’t handle the friendship anymore and only backtracked after she saw how hurt I was by that.
I also still feel really let down. These two arguments were the only times we’ve ever fought in a 10+ year friendship. When we tried to talk things over before going no-contact, I suggested we be more open about how we’re feeling and communicate more openly when things come up so they don’t escalate like this time, and she shut down the idea saying she couldn’t handle it. I get maybe her emotional capacity isn’t there to discuss more openly, since she’s struggled with mental health for a long time. But ever since I’ve felt so insecure, like I’m a terrible person and ruined our friendship. And I feel like she didn’t give me the chance or much feedback to improve from my mistake.
I respect her boundaries, and I’m glad she’s taking care of herself, even if I’m still not over everything. But today she texted me to wish me happy birthday, sounding very genuine and like how we used to text. I’m devastated. If we’re never going to unpack what happened, I’d rather us truly not be friends instead of text from time to time pretending like nothing happened. I don’t know what to respond or whether to respond at all.
submitted by No-Fly-6060 to LifeAdvice [link] [comments]
I figured our friendship wouldn’t come back from this, as she said at some point that she couldn’t handle the friendship anymore and only backtracked after she saw how hurt I was by that.
I also still feel really let down. These two arguments were the only times we’ve ever fought in a 10+ year friendship. When we tried to talk things over before going no-contact, I suggested we be more open about how we’re feeling and communicate more openly when things come up so they don’t escalate like this time, and she shut down the idea saying she couldn’t handle it. I get maybe her emotional capacity isn’t there to discuss more openly, since she’s struggled with mental health for a long time. But ever since I’ve felt so insecure, like I’m a terrible person and ruined our friendship. And I feel like she didn’t give me the chance or much feedback to improve from my mistake.
I respect her boundaries, and I’m glad she’s taking care of herself, even if I’m still not over everything. But today she texted me to wish me happy birthday, sounding very genuine and like how we used to text. I’m devastated. If we’re never going to unpack what happened, I’d rather us truly not be friends instead of text from time to time pretending like nothing happened. I don’t know what to respond or whether to respond at all.
2024.05.21 22:33 Flat_Statistician_43 How long should I wait?
I feel like ill regret it if I move on and still had a chance with her. She left because the commitment scared her and I’m still holding out for her to come back. She hasn’t contacted me at all in the month we’ve been broken up but my heart is still holding out hope for us to get back together. Should I contact her? Do I wish her a happy birthday when it comes? My heart aches so bad.
submitted by Flat_Statistician_43 to BreakUps [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 22:13 Legitimate-Ninja2687 Selling EU ar59 endgame account with multiple cons 5 stars
 | Majority of 4 stars are c6, 150 days of welkin remaining on the account submitted by Legitimate-Ninja2687 to GenshinTrades [link] [comments] |
2024.05.21 22:13 Tough-Scientist6399 Dear JB
Dear JB,
It's been two years since we last spoke, and yet not a day goes by without thoughts of you drifting through my mind. Our relationship was complex and often confusing, but it was real and meaningful to me. There are moments I wish I could go back to, conversations I wish we could have again, and feelings I wish we could explore with more understanding.
I understand now that our dynamic was colored by a push and pull that neither of us fully grasped at the time. You, with your need for space, and me, with my desire for closeness, created a dance that was both beautiful and painful. I want you to know that I see things more clearly now. I understand the struggles you faced and the reasons behind your distance. It was never about a lack of love or care; it was about self-preservation and the boundaries you needed to feel safe.
I knew you cared through your actions, not words. They were subtle, but they spoke volumes I couldn’t understand at the time. I now know that was you showing love. Holding my pinkie, inviting me to meet your family on your birthday, talking to me every day—those were your ways of expressing love, and I just couldn’t see it. I didn’t know the depths of people’s backgrounds or how to deal with someone like you. You always tried to set your boundaries aside a little to make me feel you, and I appreciate those efforts now more than ever.
I respect your journey and the space you've taken. In our time apart, I've done a lot of reflection and growth. I've come to appreciate the depth of our connection, even if it didn't always manifest in ways that were easy to comprehend. Our time together taught me so much about myself, about patience, and about the complexities of human emotion.
If I could have one more conversation with you, I'd want it to be honest and open, free of the misunderstandings and miscommunications that once clouded our interactions. I'd tell you how much you meant to me, and how much you still do. I'd express my gratitude for the moments we shared and the lessons I've learned. Most importantly, I'd want to hear your side, to understand your experience, and to let you know that my heart holds no resentment, only fondness and a hope for your happiness.
Whether our paths cross again or not, I want you to know that you have a place in my heart. I cherish the time we had and the person you are. I hope you've found peace and fulfillment in the time we've been apart. And if, by some chance, you ever want to reach out, know that I'm here, ready to listen, without expectations or demands, just with an open heart.
With all my love and respect, AW
submitted by Tough-Scientist6399 to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]
It's been two years since we last spoke, and yet not a day goes by without thoughts of you drifting through my mind. Our relationship was complex and often confusing, but it was real and meaningful to me. There are moments I wish I could go back to, conversations I wish we could have again, and feelings I wish we could explore with more understanding.
I understand now that our dynamic was colored by a push and pull that neither of us fully grasped at the time. You, with your need for space, and me, with my desire for closeness, created a dance that was both beautiful and painful. I want you to know that I see things more clearly now. I understand the struggles you faced and the reasons behind your distance. It was never about a lack of love or care; it was about self-preservation and the boundaries you needed to feel safe.
I knew you cared through your actions, not words. They were subtle, but they spoke volumes I couldn’t understand at the time. I now know that was you showing love. Holding my pinkie, inviting me to meet your family on your birthday, talking to me every day—those were your ways of expressing love, and I just couldn’t see it. I didn’t know the depths of people’s backgrounds or how to deal with someone like you. You always tried to set your boundaries aside a little to make me feel you, and I appreciate those efforts now more than ever.
I respect your journey and the space you've taken. In our time apart, I've done a lot of reflection and growth. I've come to appreciate the depth of our connection, even if it didn't always manifest in ways that were easy to comprehend. Our time together taught me so much about myself, about patience, and about the complexities of human emotion.
If I could have one more conversation with you, I'd want it to be honest and open, free of the misunderstandings and miscommunications that once clouded our interactions. I'd tell you how much you meant to me, and how much you still do. I'd express my gratitude for the moments we shared and the lessons I've learned. Most importantly, I'd want to hear your side, to understand your experience, and to let you know that my heart holds no resentment, only fondness and a hope for your happiness.
Whether our paths cross again or not, I want you to know that you have a place in my heart. I cherish the time we had and the person you are. I hope you've found peace and fulfillment in the time we've been apart. And if, by some chance, you ever want to reach out, know that I'm here, ready to listen, without expectations or demands, just with an open heart.
With all my love and respect, AW
2024.05.21 22:12 lmc66 Father son picture
 | Hi everyone. My grandfather passed when my dad was very young and he always wishes that he had a picture with his dad so I would like to give him this picture for his birthday submitted by lmc66 to PhotoshopRequest [link] [comments] Can you combine both pictures and have my grandfather with his hand on my dad, sort of like “I’m proud of you son” and colourized for both would be awesome. Thx! |
2024.05.21 22:08 No_Guest1023 Broken up with after 8 years
It's been over a year now since. Highschool sweethearts, love of my life since I was 16 and he was 18. Even then I knew there were red flags, but he was an 18 year old and I told him exactly what I wanted and he agreed. We were good for the most part, at least I thought so. He always had his inconsiderate moments but Wes work it out - or rather I'd just move by because I wanted to nurture the relationship.
He broke up with me several times before. Once because of health thing I couldn't control. Another because he was supposedly having job and money issues he wanted to figure out alone. Another because I moved in with him and his grandma after a house fire and he got tired of me being in the same room as him when I didn't move out quick enough because my family struggled to find a home. There were a couple other occasions I know I missed. Each time I let him go with love and wished him the best, but told him I was sure he was my person. He always came back. Despite the fact that for years he wanted to sow his oats, explore, see what was out there. I encouraged him to do what he needed but he assured me that he wanted to be with me.
I knew when he was having doubts. He'd get hot and cold, grow distant at odd times. He liked sexy pictures of girls online - and when I saw him doing it I worked up the courage to say that it made me uncomfortable and he was defensive at first before apologizing. He did it again a year later and had no remorse. And used the opportunity to tell me he'd been thinking about breaking up with me around my birthday. He admitted that to me on other occasions too. He pushed me to take a job in another state because he knew it would be an excuse to leave me. And he always discussed doubts about our relationship with other people, one of those people being one of my best friends since I was in middle school.
He broke up with me this last time a month before our 8 year anniversary. He said he didn't want to live together and struggled to see a future. He wanted to get numbers and show up his friends with no game. He said he didn't know who could satisfy him emotionally, mentally, sexually (except maybe a threesome ((his words))). But he wanted to be single. Unlike the last time he announced it to our friend group in a prewritten message, changed his status, removed our pictures, and went out to the bar two days later and asked for a mutual friend's number.
He did a lot to continue to hurt me. Including trying to come back out of jealousy.
Sorry this was so long. I left out so many things. Just feeling really anxious today and wanted to get it out.
submitted by No_Guest1023 to BreakUps [link] [comments]
He broke up with me several times before. Once because of health thing I couldn't control. Another because he was supposedly having job and money issues he wanted to figure out alone. Another because I moved in with him and his grandma after a house fire and he got tired of me being in the same room as him when I didn't move out quick enough because my family struggled to find a home. There were a couple other occasions I know I missed. Each time I let him go with love and wished him the best, but told him I was sure he was my person. He always came back. Despite the fact that for years he wanted to sow his oats, explore, see what was out there. I encouraged him to do what he needed but he assured me that he wanted to be with me.
I knew when he was having doubts. He'd get hot and cold, grow distant at odd times. He liked sexy pictures of girls online - and when I saw him doing it I worked up the courage to say that it made me uncomfortable and he was defensive at first before apologizing. He did it again a year later and had no remorse. And used the opportunity to tell me he'd been thinking about breaking up with me around my birthday. He admitted that to me on other occasions too. He pushed me to take a job in another state because he knew it would be an excuse to leave me. And he always discussed doubts about our relationship with other people, one of those people being one of my best friends since I was in middle school.
He broke up with me this last time a month before our 8 year anniversary. He said he didn't want to live together and struggled to see a future. He wanted to get numbers and show up his friends with no game. He said he didn't know who could satisfy him emotionally, mentally, sexually (except maybe a threesome ((his words))). But he wanted to be single. Unlike the last time he announced it to our friend group in a prewritten message, changed his status, removed our pictures, and went out to the bar two days later and asked for a mutual friend's number.
He did a lot to continue to hurt me. Including trying to come back out of jealousy.
- asked for the mutual friends number
- liked my mom's provocative pictures on Instagram
- he didn't remember the year I was born
- he only treated me like a friend in group settings
- he never knew how to comfort me
- didn't defend me to his grandma who called me a gold digger even though I never asked him for a penny
- always used me to gauge his feelings
- got a 21 year old girlfriend
- called me crying to say he could only envision a future with me, but then said he actually wanted to be with the new girlfriend and that he actually didn't feel anything romantic for me despite all he said during our 6 hour in person talk
- hit on his "best friends" ex and got nudes from another one
Sorry this was so long. I left out so many things. Just feeling really anxious today and wanted to get it out.
2024.05.21 22:00 Flimsy-Amphibian-903 Need to vent
My boyfriend (22m) and I (20f) have been LC/NC with MIL since last July. I blocked her on Facebook in May after sending her a nasty message her for missing her son’s 21st birthday party. (Shallow, yes I know. I was just angry.) She had 2 months notice about the party and made excuse after excuse about why she couldn’t come, ultimately it ended up being because we didn’t want her alcoholic husband to be there and she refused to go without him. She never even sent him a birthday card.
My bfs birthday is at the beginning of May and this year MILs husband sent him a message asking what he wanted for his bday during the second week of April. My bf does not like him, wants nothing to do with him and has explained this to his mom. So the message was never read because he has his notifications blocked. I saw it about a week and half after it was sent while looking on his phone and told my bf. He was annoyed but texted MILs husband back, we didn’t hear anything for over a week and then MIL invited us up to dinner at her house but they wanted to wait until we all had a day off. We gave them our availability and she said they were waiting to get Sundays off together and that day would be best. They live about an hour away so we said sure whenever is fine after the 6th because my dad was coming to stay with us for a week. This upset MIL and she said she wanted to do it the weekend after his birthday, we said that’s fine then. It didn’t end up happening and we were gonna let her tell us when they were ready.
Now it’s 3 weeks later and my schedule just changed so I’m working Sundays. I asked my boyfriend to let his mom know and she said that she is trying to find a new job because they cut her hours at work. MIL and her husband always work at the same place and her hours always get cut…
I just need to vent because this is not how my family is, birthdays are special and to be celebrated with all of your favorites because you need to enjoy life. I wish this women would even take a second of her own time to spend with her son, even on the phone without her husband talking too. She didn’t send him a card or anything this year either. We live and hour away and she commuted to a job an hour and 15 mins away for over a year!!!! I want to believe she cares about her son but everything she’s ever done and how she treats him tells me she doesn’t.
Disclaimer: Yes I understand everyone’s family’s are different but she goes over the moon for his siblings and even grandparents birthdays. Her oldest doesn’t even get a second glance.
submitted by Flimsy-Amphibian-903 to motherinlawsfromhell [link] [comments]
My bfs birthday is at the beginning of May and this year MILs husband sent him a message asking what he wanted for his bday during the second week of April. My bf does not like him, wants nothing to do with him and has explained this to his mom. So the message was never read because he has his notifications blocked. I saw it about a week and half after it was sent while looking on his phone and told my bf. He was annoyed but texted MILs husband back, we didn’t hear anything for over a week and then MIL invited us up to dinner at her house but they wanted to wait until we all had a day off. We gave them our availability and she said they were waiting to get Sundays off together and that day would be best. They live about an hour away so we said sure whenever is fine after the 6th because my dad was coming to stay with us for a week. This upset MIL and she said she wanted to do it the weekend after his birthday, we said that’s fine then. It didn’t end up happening and we were gonna let her tell us when they were ready.
Now it’s 3 weeks later and my schedule just changed so I’m working Sundays. I asked my boyfriend to let his mom know and she said that she is trying to find a new job because they cut her hours at work. MIL and her husband always work at the same place and her hours always get cut…
I just need to vent because this is not how my family is, birthdays are special and to be celebrated with all of your favorites because you need to enjoy life. I wish this women would even take a second of her own time to spend with her son, even on the phone without her husband talking too. She didn’t send him a card or anything this year either. We live and hour away and she commuted to a job an hour and 15 mins away for over a year!!!! I want to believe she cares about her son but everything she’s ever done and how she treats him tells me she doesn’t.
Disclaimer: Yes I understand everyone’s family’s are different but she goes over the moon for his siblings and even grandparents birthdays. Her oldest doesn’t even get a second glance.
2024.05.21 21:59 Popular_Doctor_8970 AITA For being upset my bf didn’t do enough for my birthday?
Long story, please bear with me because I want advice. May 19th was my 20th birthday. I wanted to go to Seattle and spend the day up there with my boyfriend (We’ll call him mark) and some friends. Anyway, we only had one set plan for the morning, and then the rest of the day was just exploring and doing whatever looked interesting. Anyways, I sent mark the link to a cafe in Seattle I wanted to go to so we could book reservations. He asked me what time I wanted it to be for and I said 10am, since the only times left were 9am, 10am, and 3pm. I told him 10am worked the best prior to him asking because our friends had to leave around 3pm for work. Anyway, when I replied, he had already made the reservations for 9am. He said “too late, it’s for 9”. Seattle is an hour and a half away from us so I was upset because I didn’t want to wake up that early. But I let it go and told him thanks for making the reservations because I chose to look at it at a positive way. Being there at 9am gave us all more time to be in Seattle.
Anyways, morning comes around, and my friend (We’ll call her Maria) texts me and asks if me and mark would like to meet up with her and her boyfriend zane at 7:45 at a local store. This was a plan made just that morning, but regardless nobody would have to wake up earlier to meet up with anyone. As time goes by I know my boyfriend isn’t awake because he hasn’t texted me, which he usually does. And I was alerted his phone was dead on Life360. I tell Maria we can’t meet them but we’ll see them at the cafe in Seattle. I drive all the way to marks to wake him up. Long story short I had to knock on his window because the back door was locked, which it NEVER is. Anyway i look in the window and his stepbrother wakes up from my knocking. For context marks stepbrother spends some weekends at marks house, they share a room. Mark opens the door and I follow mark to his bedroom door and I just say “Hey I’m sorry I woke you up”. I had no idea his stepbrother was there because his car wasn’t parked outside. He just says “kill yourself” in a super annoyed tone.
I was already kind of emotional that morning, because I took offense that my boyfriend didn’t wake up on my birthday and I had to come wake him up last minute. So the “kys” comment got to me, even though I’m good at taking jokes. Fast forward to the drive there, my boyfriend was buttering me up, which is super rare. He just took my hand in his and wished me a happy birthday and apologized for waking up late and kept telling me he loved me a lot. Anyway, the day kind of went downhill after the cafe. All of us were walking all around Seattle, and 90% of the time my boyfriend was walking ahead of me. Again for some context, my left leg is two inches shorter than my right, so lots of walking hurts my hips and makes me walk slower. My friend Maria noticed and would walk with me but after I would get back with my boyfriend and Maria with hers, I would fall back again. I said “Babe can you walk a little slower? Because my leg?” To which he replied “I’m trying to catch up with Maria and Zane. Also, every time we walk together you always fall behind anyways.” Also, he wouldn’t hold my hand. I saw how Zane held Maria and put his arm around her or his hand on her waist and mark maybe held my hand in 30 second intervals.
Anyway, nearing the end of the story, after we drive home, my friend comes over and drops off the presets she got me. It’s 5pm at this point and I still wanted to go home and spend my birthday with my parents. Birthdays have always made me feel a bit awkward because I’m not a fan of opening gifts while people are watching, I feel guilty for some reason haha, or like I’m spoiled. Anyways, I was looking forward to the gift my boyfriend mark got me the most, because a few days prior he told me he was leaving to buy me stuff. Anyways, I hated to ask mark this, but I was about to go home so I said “Can I have my gift now?”. He said “Seattle was your gift, it was expensive and you’re an expensive person.” He was smiling while saying this, so he was half joking, but I was a little taken aback. I didn’t wanna seem like a spoiled brat so I played off the awkwardness by saying “Oh ok, didn’t you say you went to the store though?” He said “Yeah but they couldn’t do what I wanted that day and I didn’t feel like going back any of the other days.” I said “Oh alright well are you going to get it?” His response was “Probably not.” I played it off really well, I wasn’t showing that I was upset in anyway really, I just got a quieter, because I really didn’t want to seem like a spoiled brat.
Also, on Saturday, the day before my birthday, my boyfriend mark went fishing with his friend and spent over 100 dollars on equipment and a fishing license. Saturday night was a bbq at his friends house and I attended. While all of us (friends and such) were sitting in the living room I told mark that we had two options for dinner, he interrupted me mid sentence and said in front of everyone “I’m not sure how much you’re expecting me to spend but it’s not much.” Again, I played it off, and said “alright well that’s okay I was just letting you know.” My boyfriend is an electrician and makes (I think) either 23 or 24 an hour. I feel like he shouldn’t have said that in front of everyone. It was indecent. Also, I heard from my friend (the one who dropped off the gifts) that when all of the boys were outside my boyfriend was complaining about how much he’s gonna have to spend on me, to which her boyfriend responded “dude it’s her fucking birthday shut the hell up.” Also, I’m sure other Washingtonians know that pikes place has a huge variety of flowers. It was my first time there, and I got excited and said “ooh I want flowers!” My boyfriend sighed and his friend Zane said “dude it’s her birthday you got that”. He in fact did not have that. I didn’t get flowers hahaha
Anyways, I was quiet a few minutes before I left. I asked if he wanted to come over for cake with my family. To which he responded “I mean I could.” I just left. 2 minutes away from my house, he called me and said he’d be over in an hour with gifts. Now this part makes me feel the absolute worst, because I don’t wanna sound ungrateful at all, but I saw on Life360 that he went to goodwill, I think a rite aid and a dollar tree for my gifts. This made me sad because I didn’t want a sympathy gift, especially one that wasn’t thought out at all. But when I got it I smiled and kept saying appreciative things. Like for example, he got me a book that says “100 things to do in Tacoma.” I told him “this helps a lot actually because I never know what to do thank you babe!” . I am grateful , I’m grateful that he still made an effort after I was sad, and I really do like the gifts he got me, because they weren’t bad. Just not thought out at all. Anyway he ate a slice of cake and left after that. I was talking to my friends about how sad I was about the day, especially because I cried on my birthday. Am I the asshole for talking to my friends about how upset I was about the gifts and the day in general?
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Anyways, morning comes around, and my friend (We’ll call her Maria) texts me and asks if me and mark would like to meet up with her and her boyfriend zane at 7:45 at a local store. This was a plan made just that morning, but regardless nobody would have to wake up earlier to meet up with anyone. As time goes by I know my boyfriend isn’t awake because he hasn’t texted me, which he usually does. And I was alerted his phone was dead on Life360. I tell Maria we can’t meet them but we’ll see them at the cafe in Seattle. I drive all the way to marks to wake him up. Long story short I had to knock on his window because the back door was locked, which it NEVER is. Anyway i look in the window and his stepbrother wakes up from my knocking. For context marks stepbrother spends some weekends at marks house, they share a room. Mark opens the door and I follow mark to his bedroom door and I just say “Hey I’m sorry I woke you up”. I had no idea his stepbrother was there because his car wasn’t parked outside. He just says “kill yourself” in a super annoyed tone.
I was already kind of emotional that morning, because I took offense that my boyfriend didn’t wake up on my birthday and I had to come wake him up last minute. So the “kys” comment got to me, even though I’m good at taking jokes. Fast forward to the drive there, my boyfriend was buttering me up, which is super rare. He just took my hand in his and wished me a happy birthday and apologized for waking up late and kept telling me he loved me a lot. Anyway, the day kind of went downhill after the cafe. All of us were walking all around Seattle, and 90% of the time my boyfriend was walking ahead of me. Again for some context, my left leg is two inches shorter than my right, so lots of walking hurts my hips and makes me walk slower. My friend Maria noticed and would walk with me but after I would get back with my boyfriend and Maria with hers, I would fall back again. I said “Babe can you walk a little slower? Because my leg?” To which he replied “I’m trying to catch up with Maria and Zane. Also, every time we walk together you always fall behind anyways.” Also, he wouldn’t hold my hand. I saw how Zane held Maria and put his arm around her or his hand on her waist and mark maybe held my hand in 30 second intervals.
Anyway, nearing the end of the story, after we drive home, my friend comes over and drops off the presets she got me. It’s 5pm at this point and I still wanted to go home and spend my birthday with my parents. Birthdays have always made me feel a bit awkward because I’m not a fan of opening gifts while people are watching, I feel guilty for some reason haha, or like I’m spoiled. Anyways, I was looking forward to the gift my boyfriend mark got me the most, because a few days prior he told me he was leaving to buy me stuff. Anyways, I hated to ask mark this, but I was about to go home so I said “Can I have my gift now?”. He said “Seattle was your gift, it was expensive and you’re an expensive person.” He was smiling while saying this, so he was half joking, but I was a little taken aback. I didn’t wanna seem like a spoiled brat so I played off the awkwardness by saying “Oh ok, didn’t you say you went to the store though?” He said “Yeah but they couldn’t do what I wanted that day and I didn’t feel like going back any of the other days.” I said “Oh alright well are you going to get it?” His response was “Probably not.” I played it off really well, I wasn’t showing that I was upset in anyway really, I just got a quieter, because I really didn’t want to seem like a spoiled brat.
Also, on Saturday, the day before my birthday, my boyfriend mark went fishing with his friend and spent over 100 dollars on equipment and a fishing license. Saturday night was a bbq at his friends house and I attended. While all of us (friends and such) were sitting in the living room I told mark that we had two options for dinner, he interrupted me mid sentence and said in front of everyone “I’m not sure how much you’re expecting me to spend but it’s not much.” Again, I played it off, and said “alright well that’s okay I was just letting you know.” My boyfriend is an electrician and makes (I think) either 23 or 24 an hour. I feel like he shouldn’t have said that in front of everyone. It was indecent. Also, I heard from my friend (the one who dropped off the gifts) that when all of the boys were outside my boyfriend was complaining about how much he’s gonna have to spend on me, to which her boyfriend responded “dude it’s her fucking birthday shut the hell up.” Also, I’m sure other Washingtonians know that pikes place has a huge variety of flowers. It was my first time there, and I got excited and said “ooh I want flowers!” My boyfriend sighed and his friend Zane said “dude it’s her birthday you got that”. He in fact did not have that. I didn’t get flowers hahaha
Anyways, I was quiet a few minutes before I left. I asked if he wanted to come over for cake with my family. To which he responded “I mean I could.” I just left. 2 minutes away from my house, he called me and said he’d be over in an hour with gifts. Now this part makes me feel the absolute worst, because I don’t wanna sound ungrateful at all, but I saw on Life360 that he went to goodwill, I think a rite aid and a dollar tree for my gifts. This made me sad because I didn’t want a sympathy gift, especially one that wasn’t thought out at all. But when I got it I smiled and kept saying appreciative things. Like for example, he got me a book that says “100 things to do in Tacoma.” I told him “this helps a lot actually because I never know what to do thank you babe!” . I am grateful , I’m grateful that he still made an effort after I was sad, and I really do like the gifts he got me, because they weren’t bad. Just not thought out at all. Anyway he ate a slice of cake and left after that. I was talking to my friends about how sad I was about the day, especially because I cried on my birthday. Am I the asshole for talking to my friends about how upset I was about the gifts and the day in general?