Lines about losing a loved one
Emily Ratajkowski
2012.09.06 03:30 VeryTallDog Emily Ratajkowski
Reddit's arrogance in all but ignoring the mods needs has resulted in only harming our users. This sub went dark due to the terrible handling of Reddit's API pricing changes and policy decisions. /Save3rdPartyApps/. Under duress and for the benefit of our users, we are reopening the Subreddit despite this issue not being resolved.
2010.01.26 06:19 dgillz Alcoholism
Information and support for those affected by alcoholism/Alcohol Use Disorder. If you are concerned about alcohol's effect on your life or a loved one's life, please feel welcome.
2017.03.23 18:51 Hasnep i lik the bred
Poems based on this one about a cow licking bread by Poem_for_your_sprog: my name is Cow, and wen its nite, or wen the moon is shiyning brite, and all the men haf gon to bed - i stay up late. i lik the bred.
2024.05.19 10:57 jenajiejing The Secret of Human Bodies – Examples Proving the Existence of the Greatest Creator
 | submitted by jenajiejing to primordialtruths [link] [comments] Xue Feng https://preview.redd.it/inye2mb6lc1d1.jpg?width=606&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=91a7161a35c1824c81442d04ca1efb17d2cbda20 Though the modern medicine has limited knowledge of human bodies, what we have known is enough for us to admire the excellent human body structure and functions. Each system and organ in the human body is designed by the Greatest Creator. Even those trivial body parts have great functions. For example, there are several types of hairs on human bodies with distinct forms and functions. The head hair is designed to protect and beautify the head. It can grow long. According to the Bible, “But if a woman has long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering.” The eyebrows can divert sweat and rain, preventing them into the eyes. That’s why they are lined above the two eyes. Eyelashes can prevent the dust and other things from entering the eyes. That’s why they are lined on the sides of the eyelids. Also they stand forward in a special curve because it wouldn’t hinder the eyesight or pierce into the eyes when closing the eyes. If the eyebrows and eyelashes are too long, they will hinder the eyesight. That’s why they wouldn’t grow as long as the hair or beards. The nasal hairs can filter the inhaled air. That’s why they grow inside the nostril and stand sideways and outwards. If they stand inwards, the other things will find it easy to come into the nostrils and difficult to go out. The armpit hairs can prevent the partial friction and help the sweat evaporate. Without the armpit hairs, we have to raise our arms. Otherwise the skin under the arm will become inflamed because of the friction and moist. Required by the function, the armpit hairs cannot grow as long as the head hairs, or as short as the eyebrows. Besides, they are soft and curving. If they are rigid and coarse, they will hurt the skin. And cilia grow on the intestinal epithelium. The cilia grow downward and vibrate together. The vibrating waves move downward from upward to help move down the intestinal contents. Cilia also grow on the airway and bronchus epithelium. However, they grow and vibrate in the opposite direction as those on the intestinal epithelium. Only in this way can they move the sputum upward to the throat and spit them. If they grow downward, the airway and bronchus would get stuck by the sputum and the humans would die from it. Now I wish to take two simple reflections of human bodies as an example. When foreign matters enter the nostrils or airways, they will arouse two protective reflections, sneeze or cough, which is designed to repel the foreign matters. But due to different situation, these two reflections differ in their approaches. The foreign matters in the nostrils are not urgent so the sneeze reflection can be prepared in a composed way. First, inhale slowly; open the mouth, and the soft place move upward to block the nostril. Then breathe in enough air through the mouth, and the pleural body contracts sharply to emit the air in the lungs quickly. When the emitting reaches its peak, the tongue rises abruptly to block the mouth to repel the air to go out swiftly through the nostrils. In this way the foreign matters in the nostrils are driven out. However, if the foreign matters enter the airway, it is an emergent situation. If the foreign matters are not driven out timely, the life will be put at risk. The inhaling is strictly forbidden because it will make the foreign matters go deeper and cause suffocation. So the cough doesn’t include the inhaling. Instead, the glottis closes immediately. At the same time, the pleural body contracts suddenly and adds the lung air pressure extremely. When the pressure is at its strongest point, the glottis opens suddenly and the lung air sends out explosively, compelling the foreign matters in the airway to the throat via the glottis. At this time, the soft place rises to block the nostrils. The foreign matters are spit out through the mouth. If the tongue and the soft place perform the same way as in the sneeze, the foreign matters emitted out of the airway will enter the nostrils, causing another trouble. In these two reflections, the body parts must cooperate closely. Any failure in the coordination will lead to the failure of the reflection, causing serious consequences. So these activities are not done freely. Instead, they are done as required by their functions and set procedures. These procedures are not learnt or practices. The program has been rooted in our brain nerve structure (nerve nucleus) when we are born. Otherwise, the babies will not survive. The advanced computer science has made it possible to simulate these activities. However, the simulation requires 3 conditions: 1. Device simulating the inhale and exhaling of human mouth, nose, throat, pleural and the sensing device; 2. The central control equipment simulating nerves and body system (compute, input and output devices). The above two devices are hardware. And software is also needed, namely (3). A program composed in strict compliance with the requirements to control the performance and procedure of each link, and arrange them in perfect coordination. All the three conditions are imperative. Otherwise the reflections can’t be realized. The program itself is not a substance structure. Instead, it is a smart use and spiritual result. There will be no such a thing as the program without the smart use. So we have to ask, the program is composed by the humans and stored in the computer, how about the control program in the human brain. Is it also composed by someone and stored in the human brain? Sneeze and cough are the simplest examples. There are numerous automatically controlled physical, bio-chemical and pathological human body activities, which are even more sophisticated than reflections of cough. Even today, some of them remain mysteries to us. So how are these sophisticated control programs composed? And where do they come from? Now let’s have a look at the sensory organs on human bodies. Why do we have two ears? The reason is that one ear is not able to identify the direction. With the ears lying on two sides of the head, the sound reaches the ears in sequence of time. Based on the slight receiving time difference, the brain can judge where the sound comes from. The auricle is the most outward component of the ear. It can introduce the sound into the external auditory canal. Within the auricle there is a thin layer of cartilage helping to retain the form of auricle, giving it wonderful elasticity and protecting it from the clashes. Without the cartilage, the auricle is just two useless pieces of skin hanging on the head side. If the thin bone is inside the auricle, it will break easily even if when you are sleeping on your side, damaging the auricle. There is fuzz on the outer segment of the external auditory canal preventing the sand and dust. The inner segment secretes cerumen to prevent insects. When foreign matters enter the external auditory canal, it will trigger head shaking, instead of sneeze or cough, to get the matters out. Because the external auditory canal is a blind passage, it is impossible to repel the foreign matters with air. Why don’t the foreign matters in the nostrils arouse the head-shaking reflection to repel them? That’s because the nostrils of humans almost lie in the middle of the head. The shaking is not able to produce enough centrifugal force. Besides, the human nostrils face downward and it is improper to repel the foreign matters by shaking the head. The sound is produced by the mechanical vibration of objects and is transmitted by the air fluctuation, or the sound waves. The human ears are actually working like a precise mechanical vibration monitor. In the inner ear there are a number of keyboards with different sizes, producing nerve impulses produced by echoing with corresponding frequencies. The brain, in accordance with the features of these impulses, identifies the strength, tunes and timbre of the sounds. We must note though there are many sensory organs in human bodies, only the inner ear is protected by the most solid and firm bones. In fact, it lies in the cave part of the temporal bone. Of all the sensory organs, only the ears monitor the mechanical vibration, which needs a relatively fixed position. Otherwise, it is not able to monitor the sound. If the inner ear lies in the soft tissues, when the sound wave arrives, the inner ear will vibrate with it. Thus it can hear nothing. Now the inner ear lies in the firm bone and it can’t sense the air vibration. So it is imperative to reduce the density waves to the mechanical vibrations before sending them to the inner ear. And there is such a reduction device at the middle bottom of the external auditory canal, which is called the eardrum. The eardrum has enough space to receive the air pressure. It is thin enough to vibrate when the sound wave arrives. Meanwhile, the eardrum is strong enough to push the transmission device. The long handle of the middle ear cartilage is attached to its inner side, the tensile force of which makes the eardrum sink inside slightly to maintain certain tension. This allows the eardrum to accurately reduce the arriving sound waves into the mechanical vibrations. No matter what the temperature is, the vibration function is not impacted. After the sound waves are reduced into the mechanical vibration, some rigid objects are needed to transmit the vibration to the inner ear. Of all body tissues, the most rigid objects are the bones. However, the bones are heavy in general and covered by the soft tissues, which are not suitable for the audio vibration. However, in the tympanic cavity between the eardrum and the inner ear, there are three unique tiny bones with delicate forms measured in millimeters. They are almost completely exposed to the air in the tympanic cavity. These three tiny bones are connected by ligament and form a transmission chain in curve with excellent audio vibration function, able to transmit accurately the vibration of the eardrum to the inner ear. The transmission device can properly multiply the weak vibration and reduce the strong sound wave. All of these structures are the super designs required by the acoustics. There are even smarter designs in the hearing organ. For example, to make the eardrum vibrate freely following the arriving sound waves, the two sides of the eardrums must be exposed to the air. As a result, there is a tympanic cavity full of air in the middle ear. If the cavity is filled by liquids, just as other cavities are, the eardrum is not able to vibrate because the liquids can’t contract. Besides, the cavity does not only need to be filled with air, but also needs to be connected to the outside world with a proper passage, to balance the static air pressure in the cavity with the outside air pressure. Otherwise, the air in the cavity will gradually be absorbed, causing the eardrum to sink excessively or damaging it. When the outside air pressure changes, (such as in mountain climbing, diving, the airplane takeoff or climate change), it will arouse uncomfortable feelings or lead to hearing malfunction. But the middle ear can’t be opened to the outside world directly, just like the external auditory canal or nostrils can. The reason is that the direct exposure will make the arriving waving sound reach the two sides of the eardrums at the same time via the external auditory canal and middle ear passage, counteracting the sound pressure. Thus the eardrums will not vibrate at all, unable to produce the hearing. So it is a difficult problem to connect the middle ear and the outside world. However, the human body, with a smart design, solves this problem. The middle ear is opened at the two sides in the upper rear of the pharynx via a half-opened passage (the so-called auditory tube). The auditory tube is locked in common times and only opened temporarily when taking the swallowing actions, balancing the air pressure in the middle ear shortly. After the swallowing action is over, the auditory tube is locked again. Apart from eating, human body would regularly take swallowing action unconsciously, even when he or she is sleeping. Thus the air pressure in the middle ear can be adjusted from time to time and avoid the hearing from being hindered. Besides, when swallowing, the swallowing segment and the soft palate will definitely rise, blocking the mouth and nostrils against the outside world. So on the moment when the ear and throat are opened shortly, though the air in the throat can enter the middle ear, the sound waves from the outside world are blocked against the middle ear. As a result, the hearing will not be interfered and can receive the outside sound and voice. Only the throat in the body can meet the special demand of the hearing organs. The throat is originally designed as part of the digestion and breathing system, it does not belong to sensory system. However, it can cooperate so smartly with the hearing organs. We have to admire the extremely delicate body-wise design. The vestibule in the inner ear controls the balance of the body. In the vestibule there are 3 semicircular canals. When the body loses balance, the mutually-vertical semicircular canals produce the balance impulse, which triggers the corresponding reflection via the balance center in the medulla brain. Why are there 3 semicircular canals instead of 2 or 4? And why are they mutually vertical? The reason is apparent. Humans live in the 3-dimensional space. There are 3 mutually-vertical movement directions, namely, front and rear, left and right, upward and downward. So the 3 mutually-vertical semicircular canals can monitor the movements. The number less than 3 or more than 3 would be insufficient or redundant. We can see the delicate and smart structure and function, and the supreme wisdom in them. They can’t be the accidental results. As the most important perception of human bodies, vision provides more information than that provided by all other perceptions. The vision is the perception of image and space and the visual organs must have the most precise and accurate structure completely different from other sensory organs. As a result, in the perspective of the embryo-genesis or neuro-anatomy, the main structure of the eyes is not just the common receptor. Instead, it is part of the cerebral cortex. The so-called optic nerves are completely different from other cerebrospinal nerves. In essence, the optic nerves are inner structure in the brain, transmitting the most sophisticated visual information. The eyes function like a precise camera. The retina composed of the photoreceptor cells is just like the films. The crystal, iris and the cornea works like the lens, diaphragm and the filter. However, the precision and automatic adjustment of the eyes is no match of any high-quality cameras. For example, the lens in modern cameras is made of special glass or hard plastics with fixed focal distance. When taking pictures for the landscapes with different distances, the lens position must be adjusted. Otherwise, the image will not be produced on the films. But this is an awkward approach. Imagine when the eyes are watching landscapes with different distances, the eyeballs have to protrude or recess alternatively, which looks ugly or damages the health and function of the eyes. However, the crystal in the eyes are transparent and elastic colloid, which can adjust automatically the focal distance in accordance with the distance of the objects to make sure all the objects can be imaged on the retina, without changing the position of the crystal. Such automatic adjustment function can’t be fulfilled by any camera. If we observe the eyes in the perspective of modern TV technologies, the eyes are more like the television camera, but thousands of times more precise than the television cameras. The TV image is composed of dense pixels (the mixed dark or brilliant light spots). Till now, the best TV image only contains less than 1 million pixels. However, the human eyes can produce image containing 20 billion pixels. Only the eyes can see the details of objects. No matter how clear or accurate the image is, it is still a plan view image. Then how the eyes can provide the dimensional image is a key issue of providing the complete vision. But it is not an easy task at all to convert the flat view image into the dimensional one. For a long time, people have been puzzled by how the conversion is done. Of course, we later knew the smartness and delicacy of the human body shown here. The two eyes send the flat view images they receive into the same nerve center, which contrasts and analyzes the images and judges the distance of the objects based on the slight visual angle difference caused by the position difference of the two eyes. Thus the dimensional image is produced. That’s why people have to have 2 eyes to establish the complete vision. Based on such understanding, humans have invented the dimensional movies. But the above is only the external process of how vision is formed. People have little knowledge about how the visual center works inside. We have to admit that the mysteries of human body structure and functions are beyond the intelligence of mankind. As a matter of fact, the distance judgment with two eyes is the triangulation technique which is precise and automatic. The accurate measurement needs two premises. First, the two eyes must focus on one object at the same time. Otherwise, there will be double vision, which means the one objects will be seen as two objects. As a result, the complete neuromuscular system is equipped on the outside of the eyeballs, making the eyeballs the most flexible and accurate organs. The ciliary muscle inside the eyeballs can adjust the conversion rate of the crystal at any time to focus on the object and form the clearest image. Second, the retina of the two eyes must be strictly symmetrical. Otherwise, the image contrast of the two eyes will become impossible. Furthermore, the images received by the two eyes must be transmitted at the same time to the same visual center for contrast and analysis. There are two visual nerves on the left and right side of the brain, supervising respectively the two sides of the vision field. The objects in the left of the vision field are reflected, via the eye pupil, on the retina of the right sides of the two eyeballs. The corresponding images in the two eyes, via the visual nerve, are sent to the visual center on the right side of the brain. The objects in the right of the vision field are reflected, via the eye pupil, on the retina of the left sides of the two eyeballs. The corresponding images in the two eyes, via the visual nerve, are sent to the visual center on the left side of the brain. The two visual nerves contrast the corresponding images coming from the eyes and produce the full-field dimensional images. The pairs of human parts are often symmetrical on the outside. Only the retinas are symmetrical in the same position. Namely, the left side is symmetrical to the left side and the right side symmetrical to the right side of the two retinas. That’s because the light rays come in directly. Otherwise, the visual centers can’t receive the corresponding images or get the coordinated vision. The structural symmetry of the retinas in the two eyes must be accurate to the utmost. Otherwise the images in the two eyes will not comply with each other and the ambiguity will occur. Besides, the corresponding images from the two eyes must be sent to the same visual center. Thus the optic nerves must have the corresponding special structure to realize the cross-transmission of the images. This is the unique “chiasma opticum” unique to the optic nerves. This function is not possessed by any other nervus cerebrospinalis because they don’t handle the information of images and space. If we use the computers and monitoring cameras to simulate the process of human vision, the input network of the computers has to have a similar chiasm. No other design can do it. Judging from the above, we can find all the human organs, structures and functions have shown the supreme wisdom. And these are the ways they should be. Some people think that human body has some useless organs, such as the thymus gland, appendix, tonsil and coccyx, in order to prove the human structure is imperfect. Some people used to believe that these organs were not that useful. Instead, they tend to arouse diseases such as appendicitis and tonsillitis. If these organs are cut off, it will not have much impact on the human body. In the past, people used to classify spleens and other organs into the useless organs. There was a list of useless organs in the past which included over 100 organs. But the list was long not because these organs are useless but because people at the time were ignorant. As more we know about the organs, most of them have been deleted from the list and there are only a few still remain in the list. Some people think that these organs are the leftovers of human evolution, which are called the “waste back organs” and use them as one of the evidences of evolution theory. This is a complete misunderstanding. Till not we have understood there are no such things as the “obsolescent organs”. It is simply the lack of knowledge of these organs. Take the thymus gland as an example. In the past, people didn’t know its function. Now we have understood it is the warning device of the human body against the inner and outer infection sources. As a result, the thymus gland contributes a lot to the human health. Another example, if the coccyx fractures, it will cause serious functional disturbance. So the coccyx is also an imperative part of human body. Some people might say these organs can trigger diseases. Then all human organs can lead to diseases, even brain and heart are of no exceptions. Why don’t we say the brain and heart are useless? Some organs, though they are not as important as the heart and brain and wouldn’t endanger life immediately when eliminated, are also useful. Just like if the hands or feet are lost, though not fatal, the human body is handicapped. After knowing the supreme and smart design of human structures and functions, you might want to know how they come into being. Who has designed and made such sophisticated and precise organs? We cannot avoid the question. Any truth-seeking person would admit that the extremely delicate organs and structures are not produced naturally or accidently. For instance, if someone gives you a top-class camera and tells you it is a natural one without designer or manufacturer; do you think his words are scientific and acceptable? The human body, which is even more delicate, accurate, flexible and practical, must have a supremely wise and capable creator behind it. On a spring Sunday morning in 1954, I saw a young stranger sitting in the chamber of a Church. When we started to talk, I knew that he was a student at Peking Union Medical College. He said to me, “Since I studied anatomy and physiology, I have felt the human body is really a wonder. It is not possible to understand it unless we interpret the wonder with a God.” He came to the church to seek an answer. The wonder of this young man is not the only example. I remember that when I was studying anatomy and physiology in school, some students surrounded our physiology teacher and kept asking him questions. Finally, the teacher, annoyed by so many questions, told us, “Please stop the questions because they will lead to religion in the end.” Because of the special political background at the time, the teacher’s warning silenced all the students. But his warning impressed me deeply and remained in my memory till today. My thought at that time was that the teacher was right because all the things were created by the God. Though he was not a Christian, he had to admit the truth and the further probe into the human body mysteries (part of the Universe mysteries) would definitely lead to the existence of the God (religion) in the end. Otherwise, it would be impossible to explain the wonders of the human body. The Bible says, “For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse.”(1:20 Romans 1) Was the teacher demonstrating his scientific spirit? No. The scientific spirit means the truth and boldly pursuit of the truth without avoiding any controversy. The teacher knew very clearly that one more step forward would lead to the God but he dared not move onto the path towards the truth. Instead, he asked his students to stop there. It has shown that many people refuse to admit the existence of God not because they don’t have the scientific spirit but because of the social pressure, individual consideration for their interest and prospect, just as what the teacher was doing at that time. Nevertheless, the existence of the God would not change. And we cannot live in such considerations for the reality forever. One day in the future, when we have to face the ultimate choice, we will have to face the supreme master who has created the Universe and the human beings. The Bible says, “And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.” If we don’t accept the immoral God now, we have no excuse when it comes to the day. When we talk about the origin of all things in the Universe, some young people often ask, “You have said the humans are created by the God, then who has created the God?” The analogizing logics seem to be reasonable. But it is not true. Because the God is the creator instead of the created, you can’t link these together. The table is made by the carpenter. But you cannot say the carpenter and the table have the same origin. Human benings’ understand of the God is only limited to the enlightenment from the God to the humans. Otherwise, humans cannot understand the mystery of God’s nature. The God says, “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.” (Exodus 3:14 and Revelation 1:8). For the God, there is only the eternality, and there is no time, beginning or ending. Even in the scientific field, too many analogizing questions won’t be tolerated. One scholar was talking about the belief in the God with his students. One student asked suddenly and proudly, “Where does the Universe come from?” The scholar answers, “The Universe is created by the God.” The student continued to ask, “Who has created the God?” The scholar answered, “The God is Alpha and Omega and I am not created.” The student said, “This is not scientific at all.” The scholar then asked the student, “Where does the Earth come from?” The student answered, “The Earth comes from the Sun.” The scholar continued to ask, “Where does the Sun come from?” The student answered, “The Sun comes from the Galaxy.” The scholar asked again, “Where does the Galaxy come from?” The student hesitated and answered, “The Galaxy comes from the nature.” The scholar continued to ask, “Where does the nature come from?” The student couldn’t answer this question and said in anger, “The nature is the nature and comes naturally.” The scholar then laughed, “This is not scientific at all.” So we can conclude that the “scientific” answers are not scientific. Another example is that the sciences tell people that substances are composed of the molecules. Then what are the molecules composed of? The molecules are composed of the atoms. But what are the atoms composed of? They are composed of the electrons, protons and neutrons. Then what are the electrons, protons and neutrons composed of? Till now, we cannot find an answer to this question. The atomic physicists are now working hard to find the “elementary particle”. They are called “basic particles” because the scientists don’t expect the substances to be divided limitlessly. So they believe that one day they will find the ultimate component, the “elementary particle”. Of course, the scientists will not ask such question of “what is something composed of?” This is the extremity and everything ends here. The materialists claim that the Universe is limitless and that the materials are eternal and can be divided limitlessly, etc. They are simply the groundless conclusion of the philosophers. And there is an extremity in their logics, the materials. They say that the materials are Alpha and Omega but can’t tell where the materials come from. Now let’s have a look at the math. All numbers come from 1, followed by 2, 3…. You can’t ask what the 1 is because 1 is 1, and not other numbers. It means that 1 is the origin of all numbers. The Greatest Creator has created all things and the Greatest Creator is the origin of them. It will be meaningless to ask where the Greatest Creator comes from. |
2024.05.19 10:55 QuietLiterature824 Engaged and confused?
I hesitate to post this because I've been on reddit for years and know ya'll can be vultures but here it goes:
TL;DR - Fiancé and I are confused and exhausted. We're currently a dead bedroom, it's my doing. He needs more physical intimacy and for some reason I can't provide it. He has cheated, only since physical intimacy stopped, although he does not agree it is cheating. He knows he has hurt me. Blah blah blah, wedding is postponed, we've discussed an open relationship and/or taking a break.
Background:
We have been together for 10 years, engaged 2. We're in our early 30s. Wedding is planned for next year. No kids, but 3 dogs together.
The beginning of our relationship was like any new relationship. We were young, the honeymoon phase seemed never-ending as we didn't see each other often, and sex was new and exciting.
2 years into dating, I started birth control. Immediately, we didn't notice many sexual side effects, but looking back, there probably were. We had both been taking antidepressants/ anti-anxiety medication before we met, and we both currently still take those medications. We know these have sexual side effects, for both of us.
After dating a few years we moved in together and shortly after, sex became infrequent. About 3 years into living together he brought up concerns about lack of sex and physical intimacy. I eventually realized I got comfortable and content, and didn't prioritize sex and physical intimacy as I should have been. I promised I would change, but I unfortunately didn't. Around this time, he sent a nude photo of himself to a friend of mine. I couldn't believe it, he told me a few days later, and promised to never do anything like that or to hurt me like that again.
Fast forward to now, we own a house together, and still unfortunately, I have done little to nothing to increase my sex drive and physical intimacy. I start little things but no progress is made. For example I say I'm going to plan a "sexy time" but it just doesn't happen. I did surprise him with a photo album of sexy polaroids of myself, which he enjoyed. But maybe a year later he asked a different friend of mine for sexy photos. I think he's just missing that attention that I should be giving him. His love language is physical touch, mine is acts of service and gift giving, and I struggle to show him love in the way he wants to be shown (physically.)
Since our engagement, the past year has been filled with discussions about our dead bedroom: why it happened, can we fix it, etc. For both of us, it's been almost impossible to be excited about being engaged or planning a wedding or getting married because of this issue. We've agreed that we don't want to get married if we're not excited, so we're postponing the wedding. Also, we both see a therapist and have started couples therapy.
Where it gets complicated:
He recently told me that last year, he visited a club a few times. Only on one occasion it got physical: he received a handjob, (I do believe him because at this point there's nothing to hide.) This handjob visit occurred 6 months after he proposed. Leading up to these club visits (which remember, I didn't know about until recently) he would urge me in a healthy way to be intimate, communicate his needs, and so on. But for whatever my multitude of reasons are that I'm working out in therapy (vaginismus, piled on stress, self-esteem issues, maybe not being attracted or turned on by my partner, low libido, possible imbalanced hormones, health scares that may have caused trauma) I just couldn't do it. Of course I regret it, I don't know what's wrong with me and I wish I could snap my fingers and fix it. So I do understand why he went to that club.
We truly do not know what to do. We love each other. We've been through so much, helped each other through a lifetime of stressful events, and experienced such great things together. We've talked about our future together for the past decade. But we also recognize that time spent together does not mean you should or are obligated to stay together. We recognize that right now, neither of us are happy and something needs to change.
We've briefly mentioned opening our relationship, taking a break, or both. But we don't know what that entails. Since we live together and the dogs are like our children, we don't know how a break would logistically work. As for opening our relationship, considering the infidelity, I just don't know. But at the same time, there is no sex or intimacy happening and I want to see him happy in that way. I feel like it would improve his mental health. Our therapist has been focusing more on us rather than discussing those options at the moment.
Of course there is so much more to a decade-long relationship, and I'm trying to be as neutral as possible when writing this. But we just feel like we're in this best friend, roommate, sometimes cuddle limbo and are avoiding truly discussing it because we know the options...we just don't. know. what. to. do. So if anyone has any actual advice, similar stories, or experiences with an open relationship or taking a break (while engaged) please share.
Also if you're going to respond with something unnecessary or unhelpful like "just break up" we'll save you the time and say thank you, we've discussed that option as well.
submitted by QuietLiterature824 to askatherapist [link] [comments]
TL;DR - Fiancé and I are confused and exhausted. We're currently a dead bedroom, it's my doing. He needs more physical intimacy and for some reason I can't provide it. He has cheated, only since physical intimacy stopped, although he does not agree it is cheating. He knows he has hurt me. Blah blah blah, wedding is postponed, we've discussed an open relationship and/or taking a break.
Background:
We have been together for 10 years, engaged 2. We're in our early 30s. Wedding is planned for next year. No kids, but 3 dogs together.
The beginning of our relationship was like any new relationship. We were young, the honeymoon phase seemed never-ending as we didn't see each other often, and sex was new and exciting.
2 years into dating, I started birth control. Immediately, we didn't notice many sexual side effects, but looking back, there probably were. We had both been taking antidepressants/ anti-anxiety medication before we met, and we both currently still take those medications. We know these have sexual side effects, for both of us.
After dating a few years we moved in together and shortly after, sex became infrequent. About 3 years into living together he brought up concerns about lack of sex and physical intimacy. I eventually realized I got comfortable and content, and didn't prioritize sex and physical intimacy as I should have been. I promised I would change, but I unfortunately didn't. Around this time, he sent a nude photo of himself to a friend of mine. I couldn't believe it, he told me a few days later, and promised to never do anything like that or to hurt me like that again.
Fast forward to now, we own a house together, and still unfortunately, I have done little to nothing to increase my sex drive and physical intimacy. I start little things but no progress is made. For example I say I'm going to plan a "sexy time" but it just doesn't happen. I did surprise him with a photo album of sexy polaroids of myself, which he enjoyed. But maybe a year later he asked a different friend of mine for sexy photos. I think he's just missing that attention that I should be giving him. His love language is physical touch, mine is acts of service and gift giving, and I struggle to show him love in the way he wants to be shown (physically.)
Since our engagement, the past year has been filled with discussions about our dead bedroom: why it happened, can we fix it, etc. For both of us, it's been almost impossible to be excited about being engaged or planning a wedding or getting married because of this issue. We've agreed that we don't want to get married if we're not excited, so we're postponing the wedding. Also, we both see a therapist and have started couples therapy.
Where it gets complicated:
He recently told me that last year, he visited a club a few times. Only on one occasion it got physical: he received a handjob, (I do believe him because at this point there's nothing to hide.) This handjob visit occurred 6 months after he proposed. Leading up to these club visits (which remember, I didn't know about until recently) he would urge me in a healthy way to be intimate, communicate his needs, and so on. But for whatever my multitude of reasons are that I'm working out in therapy (vaginismus, piled on stress, self-esteem issues, maybe not being attracted or turned on by my partner, low libido, possible imbalanced hormones, health scares that may have caused trauma) I just couldn't do it. Of course I regret it, I don't know what's wrong with me and I wish I could snap my fingers and fix it. So I do understand why he went to that club.
We truly do not know what to do. We love each other. We've been through so much, helped each other through a lifetime of stressful events, and experienced such great things together. We've talked about our future together for the past decade. But we also recognize that time spent together does not mean you should or are obligated to stay together. We recognize that right now, neither of us are happy and something needs to change.
We've briefly mentioned opening our relationship, taking a break, or both. But we don't know what that entails. Since we live together and the dogs are like our children, we don't know how a break would logistically work. As for opening our relationship, considering the infidelity, I just don't know. But at the same time, there is no sex or intimacy happening and I want to see him happy in that way. I feel like it would improve his mental health. Our therapist has been focusing more on us rather than discussing those options at the moment.
Of course there is so much more to a decade-long relationship, and I'm trying to be as neutral as possible when writing this. But we just feel like we're in this best friend, roommate, sometimes cuddle limbo and are avoiding truly discussing it because we know the options...we just don't. know. what. to. do. So if anyone has any actual advice, similar stories, or experiences with an open relationship or taking a break (while engaged) please share.
Also if you're going to respond with something unnecessary or unhelpful like "just break up" we'll save you the time and say thank you, we've discussed that option as well.
2024.05.19 10:55 AffectionateShift520 Pay for au pairs in Germany
I am seeing online that the pay for au pairs in Germany is 280 euros, no more, no less. Is this true? I have set up an account on an au pair site and have had a family reach out about my au pairing with them for a few months. My hesitation is that if the monthly pay is really just 280, I would be losing money in paying for the round trip of flights, so I wouldn't be able to afford this. The family seems very well off and generous (they would provide my own apartment). I am wondering if there is potential for them to pay more. I would love to hear if anyone that has ever au paired in Germany can share about their wage. If anyone is familiar with the German culture, I am also wondering how I can politely ask about the wage in a culturally sensitive way, as I know talking about money is a bit uncomfortable. Thanks!
submitted by AffectionateShift520 to Aupairs [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 10:55 karma0207 I just feel hopeless and feel like an inconvenience.
I didn't even know what I had was HS until about a few months ago. And I've had it for many years now.
When I brought it up to my mom, she said she's faced it when she was younger and it's a result of weight and eating desserts. To stop both, fix my PCOS and be healthy in life.
I just wish it was not this difficult. The doc said nothing can be done and she's put me on a five day antibiotics with mupirocin everytime the flare gets really bad. She has reintroduced isotretinoin orally since two weeks (I had taken it for my grade 3 cystic acne back in 2020 and it helped clear my whole face up)
The lumps in my underarms and my groin area just make me feel so hopeless. They keep coming. And hurts like a fucking bitch everytime I move my arm or sit or get up.
To lose weight, I need to work out. My derm asks me not to work out till the flare goes down to avoid sweating and friction when it's agitated. The flare goes down with the meds, and then I try to work out and it comes back up. It's a fucking vicious cycle, I just feel lost. And to worsen it, I live in an extremely humid beach city, which ranks in top 10 of the most polluted cities in the world, lol.
Uptil recently I was ignoring the fuck out of it, thinking it's my problem and I've to deal with it and there is no way out. That hasn't changed but what my partner said made me feel different. He said - you shouldn't have to suffer through this. There has to be a way out. One dermat saying there is no way out can't be it, right?
And he was also the one who encouraged me to get medical help for my acne because that shit was horridly painful and use to affect my daily life. He was like - fuck the cosmetics reasons, if something can be done to improve your quality of life and not be in pain, why should you suffer?
And it makes me think - is there no way to find a solution for my HS? There are days where I can't help with home chores and just feel absolutely disgusted with myself and disappointed in myself for being such an inconvenience. My partner assures me and asks me never to worry about chores, etc and to rest. And also appreciates and compliments me so much and tells me this doesn't bother him. (He's helped me bandage it up and drain it many times)
But I just feel - so tired. Just tired. Very tired. It hurts to think this is how the rest of my life will be like. I'm only 27. And I just feel like an inconvenience. A nuisance. Feel like his life would be better off without me. Probably with someone who is healthy, without HS, PCOS, fitter and happier.
submitted by karma0207 to Hidradenitis [link] [comments]
When I brought it up to my mom, she said she's faced it when she was younger and it's a result of weight and eating desserts. To stop both, fix my PCOS and be healthy in life.
I just wish it was not this difficult. The doc said nothing can be done and she's put me on a five day antibiotics with mupirocin everytime the flare gets really bad. She has reintroduced isotretinoin orally since two weeks (I had taken it for my grade 3 cystic acne back in 2020 and it helped clear my whole face up)
The lumps in my underarms and my groin area just make me feel so hopeless. They keep coming. And hurts like a fucking bitch everytime I move my arm or sit or get up.
To lose weight, I need to work out. My derm asks me not to work out till the flare goes down to avoid sweating and friction when it's agitated. The flare goes down with the meds, and then I try to work out and it comes back up. It's a fucking vicious cycle, I just feel lost. And to worsen it, I live in an extremely humid beach city, which ranks in top 10 of the most polluted cities in the world, lol.
Uptil recently I was ignoring the fuck out of it, thinking it's my problem and I've to deal with it and there is no way out. That hasn't changed but what my partner said made me feel different. He said - you shouldn't have to suffer through this. There has to be a way out. One dermat saying there is no way out can't be it, right?
And he was also the one who encouraged me to get medical help for my acne because that shit was horridly painful and use to affect my daily life. He was like - fuck the cosmetics reasons, if something can be done to improve your quality of life and not be in pain, why should you suffer?
And it makes me think - is there no way to find a solution for my HS? There are days where I can't help with home chores and just feel absolutely disgusted with myself and disappointed in myself for being such an inconvenience. My partner assures me and asks me never to worry about chores, etc and to rest. And also appreciates and compliments me so much and tells me this doesn't bother him. (He's helped me bandage it up and drain it many times)
But I just feel - so tired. Just tired. Very tired. It hurts to think this is how the rest of my life will be like. I'm only 27. And I just feel like an inconvenience. A nuisance. Feel like his life would be better off without me. Probably with someone who is healthy, without HS, PCOS, fitter and happier.
2024.05.19 10:54 ThatGuy1166 Neighbor threatens legal action after cutting tree
I am located in Arizona. My neighbor has a tree that hangs over the wall and leaves a mess. I have to go out every weekend to clean it up or my pool gets filled with the droppings. Last summer I attempted to go by their house and have a conversation with them and never got an answer. Finally one day I happened to catch them outside. I asked them if it was fine with me cutting the limbs and explained it made a mess in my yard and was making it hard to maintain the pool. They said it was fine that if any mess got in their yard they would clean it and not to worry about getting it. I did it last summer myself (very Minimal job due to not having proper tools) and then I hired someone a few days ago to do it properly. It tonight I had a get together and they looked over the wall to confront me about it. They are now mad saying they never agreed to let me do this and trying to back track and say that they said they would take care of it. They never mentioned that when I spoke with them nor was it taken care of so that right there is a lie. I would’ve loved to have them do it on their dime. They advised me they took pictures and sent it to HOA and threatened to get police involved along with legal action if the tree falls on their house(chances of that are extremely slim Lol). I also heard someone mention something about cutting my string lights.i highly doubt they will but pretty frustrating in general. Is this something I should ignore and mark it up as them being unreasonable or should I look into protecting myself with a lawyer? I am attaching a link with images.
https://imgur.com/a/V4v0pqX
submitted by ThatGuy1166 to legaladvice [link] [comments]
https://imgur.com/a/V4v0pqX
2024.05.19 10:54 insanebraincrane What is wrong with my approach to love? M/26 22F
Hey,
This is gonna be long-winded and probably incoherent, but I just need to get this off my chest and if you have any insight regarding why it's constantly happening to me I'd love to hear it.
I consider myself a pretty introverted guy, but I've generally had no issues talking with girls and getting dates, more so recently of course, since I've been growing more comfortable in my own skin. I'm definitely a romantic, I never understood the attitude of guys that treat girls like trash, that just doesn't compute in my head. If I love something, I'm going to take care of it to the best of my ability.
I think we have all had that experience of "the one that got away", well mine was no different. The girl I met when I started uni was special, she was drop dead gorgeous, completely my type, witty and cracked jokes like I would, we finished each other's sentences, we had the same ideas and ambitions. Everything was going great, I was on cloud nine and I never even thought about this like that, but this girl made me think that she's the one I'm gonna marry. We were celebrating new year's at a mutual friend's house and we hooked up, it was phenomenal. Literally 2 days later she ghosts me out of nowhere, I panic. I reach out to talk to her face to face to see what's going on. She obliged reluctantly and word for word said "I'm sorry it's not going to work, you are too good for me".
Now, I've had my heart broken a few times by this point, but this... This was devastating.
I went to a dark place in my own mind, stopped talking with everyone, started doing drugs and generally engaging in self-destructive behavior. It was really hard accepting the fact that my best was never enough for her, I blamed myself constantly, I cried dozens of times alone outside. Whenever a song came up on the radio that reminded me of her my whole mood changed, even if it was jolly prior. I generally am able to keep a cool and straight face when I'm around family as I never want to talk about my own problems, mostly because I know that if I do I will fucking meltdown so I steer clear, I never want them to feel sorry for me, but even they thought something weird was going on and kept asking me questions.
It took me a good 3 years to accept what happened and start trying to move on, as you can imagine my confidence was shattered for that whole time and my self-worth was at an all time low. I started dating again, but not to find love, I don't believe in that anymore, just for sex and to feel wanted. I would tell girls what they wanted to hear, hook up and bail. Hell, sometimes they only wanted sex too, that was optimal. If I didn't get intimate with a girl on the 2nd date I would just look for someone else, I never wanted to put in any effort into actually cultivating anything meaningful or fulfilling. I would always feel like shit when I would pump and dump, because deep down I know what I was doing and that it wasn't me, but I also craved the satisfaction. Looking back, I was definitely perpetuating my own trauma.
Now, I used mainly dating apps, sometimes just start texting people I knew. But a few weeks ago I was at the supermarket and just on my phone walking, when some girl just ran in front of me at speed and knocked me off balance for a moment, she just glanced back at me and I saw how pretty she was, it sent a shock down my body. She was hurrying to get some beer, which I respected and admired. When we were on our way out I approached her to talk to her, told her she caught my eye and asked for her number. She gave me the digits, but she was so flabbergasted it was really funny and cute. We went on a date the next day, she's amazing, we mesh so well together. She's smart and responsible, takes care of her parents same as I do, we found a lot in common. I was thrilled, I never approached anyone like this and the time I felt that I had to do it - it paid off in a big way. I was falling for her and she was for me.
We went on dates, we had fun, talked and walked a lot. I bring her lunch to work, flowers sometimes. She was celebrating a sister's birthday one evening and I had taken her from the place to her apartment, she said she wanted me to stay the night, so I did. It was glorious, we both had a great time.
After that she ghosted me, she doesn't text me first anymore. I have to show all the initiative now, whenever I try to set up dates she's busy. To be fair she is pretty busy, she has 2 jobs and she's one of those people like me that don't pull out their phone when hanging out with someone, just not that attached to technology which I really vibe with. She spends a lot of time with her family, she has sisters and cousins that are all the same age and they hang out in the evenings at her place or at her sister's place and I trust that she's not lying. I've met her cousins, they are all really sweet. But I just feel like she's lost interest in me, I keep trying to get something going but her response times are getting longer and longer.
Honestly I've never seen a switch flip so suddenly, it's like she's a different person now. We used to be so intimate, not only in a sexual way but she would sleep on my chest, hug me in her sleep, squeeze me and not let me go, now she barely gives me any attention. It feels like I'm a burden on her right now. She told me that she has always had trouble with relationships because she's so busy with work and it never worked due to this, but I also feel like she could make time for me if she wanted to, but just chooses not to. I feel like I'm about to get my heart annihilated again.
I don't want to lose her, she made me believe in love again. I truly love this girl and want to build my future with her. I keep fighting the urge to reach out to her and try to make it work, but I think that pulling back might be the best play, however painful it might be right now.
Why is it that always when something good happens to me it never lasts.. Always disappointment after disappointment. What is wrong with me?
submitted by insanebraincrane to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
This is gonna be long-winded and probably incoherent, but I just need to get this off my chest and if you have any insight regarding why it's constantly happening to me I'd love to hear it.
I consider myself a pretty introverted guy, but I've generally had no issues talking with girls and getting dates, more so recently of course, since I've been growing more comfortable in my own skin. I'm definitely a romantic, I never understood the attitude of guys that treat girls like trash, that just doesn't compute in my head. If I love something, I'm going to take care of it to the best of my ability.
I think we have all had that experience of "the one that got away", well mine was no different. The girl I met when I started uni was special, she was drop dead gorgeous, completely my type, witty and cracked jokes like I would, we finished each other's sentences, we had the same ideas and ambitions. Everything was going great, I was on cloud nine and I never even thought about this like that, but this girl made me think that she's the one I'm gonna marry. We were celebrating new year's at a mutual friend's house and we hooked up, it was phenomenal. Literally 2 days later she ghosts me out of nowhere, I panic. I reach out to talk to her face to face to see what's going on. She obliged reluctantly and word for word said "I'm sorry it's not going to work, you are too good for me".
Now, I've had my heart broken a few times by this point, but this... This was devastating.
I went to a dark place in my own mind, stopped talking with everyone, started doing drugs and generally engaging in self-destructive behavior. It was really hard accepting the fact that my best was never enough for her, I blamed myself constantly, I cried dozens of times alone outside. Whenever a song came up on the radio that reminded me of her my whole mood changed, even if it was jolly prior. I generally am able to keep a cool and straight face when I'm around family as I never want to talk about my own problems, mostly because I know that if I do I will fucking meltdown so I steer clear, I never want them to feel sorry for me, but even they thought something weird was going on and kept asking me questions.
It took me a good 3 years to accept what happened and start trying to move on, as you can imagine my confidence was shattered for that whole time and my self-worth was at an all time low. I started dating again, but not to find love, I don't believe in that anymore, just for sex and to feel wanted. I would tell girls what they wanted to hear, hook up and bail. Hell, sometimes they only wanted sex too, that was optimal. If I didn't get intimate with a girl on the 2nd date I would just look for someone else, I never wanted to put in any effort into actually cultivating anything meaningful or fulfilling. I would always feel like shit when I would pump and dump, because deep down I know what I was doing and that it wasn't me, but I also craved the satisfaction. Looking back, I was definitely perpetuating my own trauma.
Now, I used mainly dating apps, sometimes just start texting people I knew. But a few weeks ago I was at the supermarket and just on my phone walking, when some girl just ran in front of me at speed and knocked me off balance for a moment, she just glanced back at me and I saw how pretty she was, it sent a shock down my body. She was hurrying to get some beer, which I respected and admired. When we were on our way out I approached her to talk to her, told her she caught my eye and asked for her number. She gave me the digits, but she was so flabbergasted it was really funny and cute. We went on a date the next day, she's amazing, we mesh so well together. She's smart and responsible, takes care of her parents same as I do, we found a lot in common. I was thrilled, I never approached anyone like this and the time I felt that I had to do it - it paid off in a big way. I was falling for her and she was for me.
We went on dates, we had fun, talked and walked a lot. I bring her lunch to work, flowers sometimes. She was celebrating a sister's birthday one evening and I had taken her from the place to her apartment, she said she wanted me to stay the night, so I did. It was glorious, we both had a great time.
After that she ghosted me, she doesn't text me first anymore. I have to show all the initiative now, whenever I try to set up dates she's busy. To be fair she is pretty busy, she has 2 jobs and she's one of those people like me that don't pull out their phone when hanging out with someone, just not that attached to technology which I really vibe with. She spends a lot of time with her family, she has sisters and cousins that are all the same age and they hang out in the evenings at her place or at her sister's place and I trust that she's not lying. I've met her cousins, they are all really sweet. But I just feel like she's lost interest in me, I keep trying to get something going but her response times are getting longer and longer.
Honestly I've never seen a switch flip so suddenly, it's like she's a different person now. We used to be so intimate, not only in a sexual way but she would sleep on my chest, hug me in her sleep, squeeze me and not let me go, now she barely gives me any attention. It feels like I'm a burden on her right now. She told me that she has always had trouble with relationships because she's so busy with work and it never worked due to this, but I also feel like she could make time for me if she wanted to, but just chooses not to. I feel like I'm about to get my heart annihilated again.
I don't want to lose her, she made me believe in love again. I truly love this girl and want to build my future with her. I keep fighting the urge to reach out to her and try to make it work, but I think that pulling back might be the best play, however painful it might be right now.
Why is it that always when something good happens to me it never lasts.. Always disappointment after disappointment. What is wrong with me?
2024.05.19 10:54 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister
I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
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My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
2024.05.19 10:52 ellyhoch Losing
I was with my husband for over a decade when I messed up and cheated on him once. He forgave me but that's when the abuse started. It's been almost a decade since I cheated and was told I was forgiven. But it didn't come without a cost. Regularly he would scream at me late at night, sometimes waking me at 3am to rage. No amount of explanation, communication, disagreeing or agreeing could calm him from these fits. I think he just wanted to let out anger because nothing I could say or do would help. Forced sleep deprivation and verbal abuse was his goto. We got pregnant and the abuse stopped temporarily. The following year it picked back up but I thought things were better because it would only happen a few times a year. But each year it got a little worse. Since then he's grown more comfortable with having these rages Infront of the kids and some young family members. He'll corner me in a room and not allow me to leave. He's never hit me but will shove me around, grab me to hold me in place, pick me up and throw me down. He punch holes in walls and destroy our things no matter how expensive, irreplaceable or sentimental. If this rage starts while we are driving he will drive crazy and reckless, slam on the breaks and jump out, then demand to get back in if I try to leave. He's done it with the kids in the car multiple times. I told him he needed to seek help. Recently in the last year we both had a lot of big changes happen. I knew I added too much to my plate but asked for patience while I managed it all. He agreed but didn't act on it. The rages became regular. He promised he'd seek therapy but blamed insurance for not getting it. We went on vacation together and I hoped this would be what we needed to really reconnect and focus on each other. But as soon as we hit the highway he let his rage start in on me. I just felt my fight die. I gave up. I even told him to just take me home and go on the cruise withiut me. The whole trip I couldn't find the same love that I'd had for him anymore. It's like he screamed it out of me. I had nothing left. I wanted to make it work for the kids. But my 10yr old started coming to me the next day to check in me, to see if I was ok physically and mentally. It broke my heart that she knew I wasn't ok. A couple weeks after the cruise he raged and shoved me across our bedroom, my head missed the dresser buy only a couple inches. I told him I wanted a divorce. He asked me to wait till I was calm to make that decision. I did, about a week or so later I told him that I meant it and still wanted to proceed. It's been months and i still have to dodge his rage and fits. I was trying to be friends for the sake of the kids but that isn't working. Our calm conversations always end in the same rage. I only want to speak to him about the kids going forward. I'm putting my foot down and standing my ground. I noticed our mutual friends seemed to be acting odd when I'm around. I'm driving back from a group vacation. 1 begged me to vent to her and then told him I told her everything. 2 others said I've been 'different' and 1 doesn't want to be around me anymore. Even admitting that 'different' might mean the backbone I grew. These friends were my village, they were so very important to me. I haven't gone into great detail with anyone but they've all brushed it off when I mention that the relationship was abusive. I don't want anyone to hate him. I wasn't expecting to lose our friends in the divorce. Feeling like I'm losing everything.
submitted by ellyhoch to Divorce [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 10:52 fictionalfinesse "Ascendio" by Ive
I really love "Ascendio" by Ive. Everything about it from the performance to the music video and Liz's part.
It made me think of "Obliviate" by Lovelyz. Mainly because both are spells from Harry Potter.
I'm sure it has roots elsewhere (like probably Italian) but the way they pronounce it and as a native English speaker, my first thought is "oh, Harry Potter. "
It made me wonder if there are any other songs that may have been inspired by HP, either contextually or visually. Or just remind you of HP
Another one that comes to mind for visually is "Save Me, Save You" by WJSN. Magic girls in magic school 🪄🏫
Anyway, any others?
submitted by fictionalfinesse to kpophelp [link] [comments]
It made me think of "Obliviate" by Lovelyz. Mainly because both are spells from Harry Potter.
I'm sure it has roots elsewhere (like probably Italian) but the way they pronounce it and as a native English speaker, my first thought is "oh, Harry Potter. "
It made me wonder if there are any other songs that may have been inspired by HP, either contextually or visually. Or just remind you of HP
Another one that comes to mind for visually is "Save Me, Save You" by WJSN. Magic girls in magic school 🪄🏫
Anyway, any others?
2024.05.19 10:52 Mr_Harmony25 A relationship
This story is about a boy who have a trauma from his past ex-girlfriend. Their relationship did not last long but he always experience abuse from his ex like hitting him for no reason. They always argue because of her, always coming home from work drunk, gaslighting him for everything she's doing. It's a very toxic relationship. At first it's not like this but as soon as she lost interest, everything changed. One time, the boy caught her cheating, having an affair with her co-worker, but he just let it slide because the boy loved her ex-girlfriend so much, that even after what he see, he still love her. Good thing though his ex-girlfriend finally decided to break up with him day after that, and of course, the boy let him go. The boy still love her and it's hard for him to move on.
A few months later, he met this new girl on his work named Kayla. Kayla is a pretty girl with a good personality. The boy laid eye on her, can't take his eyes off her for the whole day. Just as he's about to leave his work, Kayla noticed him and approached the boy. "Hey what's your name?" Kayla asked. "My name is Carl" the boy replied. "Carl, that's a cute name, nice meeting you, my name is Karla by the way" said Karla "It's nice meeting you too Karla" said the boy. As they walk nonchalantly, Karla suddenly asked out of the blue, "So, are you doing fine? I heard that your girlfriend just broke up with you a few months ago" Carl replied, "How did you know?" Then Karla said "Well, me and Hannah were talking about you earlier, she told me that you have been going through a lot lately, so i wonder if I can do anything to help? I don't want to see my co-worker being upset" Carl answered, "Why do you even care? I'm just a nobody, my life means nothing.. I don't feel like i deserve to be loved.." Karla then replied "I know life is hard, and it's not true that your life means nothing, you are borned in this world for a reason. And you deserve to be loved, you're a handsome boy, smart and kind, you deserve to be love, you're not just a nobody, you're somebody." Carl then felt a spark in his heart after what Karla said to him. Carl felt something in his face, "am i crying?" He then covered his face, then Karla noticed, "Hey are you crying? Did i say something wrong? It's okay, you can cry, i'm sorry for making you cry" Carl then answered, "I'm fine, thank you Karla." Carl then hugged Karla.
For weeks Carl and Karla have been going out, talking, vibing and even dating. One night after work, Karla asked Carl, "hey so uhm.. I've been wanting to ask you recently" Carl replied "what is it?" "Will you be my boyfriend?" Karla asked, Carl then felt a hesitate after he heard the question, "Is that a no?" Karla asked "Yes, i can be your boyfriend" said Carl. Then Karla hugged him, "I love you Carl" Carl then replied, "I love you too Carla"
After a few days Carl is being anxious lately, Karla noticed and asked Carl, "Darling are you alright? You don't look good for the past few days, i'm getting worried." Carl then replied, "It's just that.." Karla asked "Just what darling? Please say it, i will listen i promise." Carl answered, "It's just that i'm afraid.." Karla replied, "Don't be afraid darling, i will protect you no matter what. If it's about the trauma you felt from your ex-girlfriend, i promise i won't do anything cruel to you, i love you darling, please don't be afraid." Carl then cried and Karla hugged him.
After a few months, their relationship is going pretty well. Carl and Karla love each other so much, they can't be separated no matter what happens, they're always together through thick and thin. But would their relationship last long?
One day after work, Karla is not feeling good. "Darling maybe you should get some rest, you don't look good. While you rest, how about i prepare some food how's that sound?" Said Carl. "Thank you darling, you're so sweet" Karla replied. Then suddenly while Karla is walking to her room, she fainted. "Darling are you alright?" Carl asked. Karla is not waking up, and Carl is worried. Carl picked her up and rushed to his car to get Karla to the Hospital. Luckily Karla made it. In the hospital, Carl asked the doctor if Karla is alright, the Doctor said, "Mr.Carl, i'm sorry to tell you this but.. She has cancer, Stage 3." Carl then suddenly got a heavy heart, shaking and couldn't even speak properly, the doctor then asked Carl to have some rest. Carl is angry and depressed about what he heard.
A month later... Karla is fighting her cancer, Carl supporting Karla by staying with her 24/7. Karla then whispered to Carl "Till death do us part .." Carl doesn't know that that will be her last word to him.. After a week, Karla didn't make it. She died of Cancer. Carl then felt sadness once again.
A day later after Karla's burial, Carl then rush home, tied a rope on the ceiling and said "Till death do us part" softly... And then he hung his self.
"Till death do us part" was their last word. The end.
submitted by Mr_Harmony25 to stories [link] [comments]
A few months later, he met this new girl on his work named Kayla. Kayla is a pretty girl with a good personality. The boy laid eye on her, can't take his eyes off her for the whole day. Just as he's about to leave his work, Kayla noticed him and approached the boy. "Hey what's your name?" Kayla asked. "My name is Carl" the boy replied. "Carl, that's a cute name, nice meeting you, my name is Karla by the way" said Karla "It's nice meeting you too Karla" said the boy. As they walk nonchalantly, Karla suddenly asked out of the blue, "So, are you doing fine? I heard that your girlfriend just broke up with you a few months ago" Carl replied, "How did you know?" Then Karla said "Well, me and Hannah were talking about you earlier, she told me that you have been going through a lot lately, so i wonder if I can do anything to help? I don't want to see my co-worker being upset" Carl answered, "Why do you even care? I'm just a nobody, my life means nothing.. I don't feel like i deserve to be loved.." Karla then replied "I know life is hard, and it's not true that your life means nothing, you are borned in this world for a reason. And you deserve to be loved, you're a handsome boy, smart and kind, you deserve to be love, you're not just a nobody, you're somebody." Carl then felt a spark in his heart after what Karla said to him. Carl felt something in his face, "am i crying?" He then covered his face, then Karla noticed, "Hey are you crying? Did i say something wrong? It's okay, you can cry, i'm sorry for making you cry" Carl then answered, "I'm fine, thank you Karla." Carl then hugged Karla.
For weeks Carl and Karla have been going out, talking, vibing and even dating. One night after work, Karla asked Carl, "hey so uhm.. I've been wanting to ask you recently" Carl replied "what is it?" "Will you be my boyfriend?" Karla asked, Carl then felt a hesitate after he heard the question, "Is that a no?" Karla asked "Yes, i can be your boyfriend" said Carl. Then Karla hugged him, "I love you Carl" Carl then replied, "I love you too Carla"
After a few days Carl is being anxious lately, Karla noticed and asked Carl, "Darling are you alright? You don't look good for the past few days, i'm getting worried." Carl then replied, "It's just that.." Karla asked "Just what darling? Please say it, i will listen i promise." Carl answered, "It's just that i'm afraid.." Karla replied, "Don't be afraid darling, i will protect you no matter what. If it's about the trauma you felt from your ex-girlfriend, i promise i won't do anything cruel to you, i love you darling, please don't be afraid." Carl then cried and Karla hugged him.
After a few months, their relationship is going pretty well. Carl and Karla love each other so much, they can't be separated no matter what happens, they're always together through thick and thin. But would their relationship last long?
One day after work, Karla is not feeling good. "Darling maybe you should get some rest, you don't look good. While you rest, how about i prepare some food how's that sound?" Said Carl. "Thank you darling, you're so sweet" Karla replied. Then suddenly while Karla is walking to her room, she fainted. "Darling are you alright?" Carl asked. Karla is not waking up, and Carl is worried. Carl picked her up and rushed to his car to get Karla to the Hospital. Luckily Karla made it. In the hospital, Carl asked the doctor if Karla is alright, the Doctor said, "Mr.Carl, i'm sorry to tell you this but.. She has cancer, Stage 3." Carl then suddenly got a heavy heart, shaking and couldn't even speak properly, the doctor then asked Carl to have some rest. Carl is angry and depressed about what he heard.
A month later... Karla is fighting her cancer, Carl supporting Karla by staying with her 24/7. Karla then whispered to Carl "Till death do us part .." Carl doesn't know that that will be her last word to him.. After a week, Karla didn't make it. She died of Cancer. Carl then felt sadness once again.
A day later after Karla's burial, Carl then rush home, tied a rope on the ceiling and said "Till death do us part" softly... And then he hung his self.
"Till death do us part" was their last word. The end.
2024.05.19 10:52 paper_boatss I don't know if I should break up with my boyfriend
I (19f) have been in a relationship with my boyfriend (19f) for two years. We got together in high school and now go to college together. I love this man with my whole being, but I am so afraid that I am making the wrong decision by being with him. I feel like there may be someone out there who fits me better and who checks all my boxes. I'm afraid I am wasting my college experience being tied down. But then I am afraid I will lose the best person I've ever been with. I'm so anxious about this and have been for nearly a year. Sometimes life is really good and I have no doubts that this is the one for me to spend the rest of my life with. But other times I just can't help but feel like I'm giving up my freedom for someone who isn't even meant to be mine. I can't tell how I actually feel and I have no idea what I want to do.
submitted by paper_boatss to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 10:52 Kieserrr [17F] hey i’m Amber, super bored n wanna find new ppl to talk to :)
I live in Southampton in England w my family. Unfortunately not an only child 😒 I have an older brother who is 19.
Feel free to ask what I look like btw
Most of my mates irl are guys (mainly because I find it easier to get along with them over girls). Not currently in a relationship, not really looking for one either but u never know 🤷♀️
Still at college currently but I would rather not talk about education ngl😆
Don’t really do an awful lot outside of that so hopefully I can chat with you lots!
Love to be asked questions too so please ask any questions you like 🙃
submitted by Kieserrr to TeensMeetTeens [link] [comments]
Feel free to ask what I look like btw
Most of my mates irl are guys (mainly because I find it easier to get along with them over girls). Not currently in a relationship, not really looking for one either but u never know 🤷♀️
Still at college currently but I would rather not talk about education ngl😆
Don’t really do an awful lot outside of that so hopefully I can chat with you lots!
Love to be asked questions too so please ask any questions you like 🙃
2024.05.19 10:51 2fucked2know The differences between Aquas and Sags
I'm a Sag, and Aquas are pretty much more relatable than other Sags to me. To be fair, I don't really know any other Sags, but can absolutely relate to the traits and to what other Sags write on here more than I relate to any other sign - except Aquarius.... We're considered one of the most harmonious pairings, cause there's so much mutual understanding... And I feel that. Aquas are unusually fiery for an air sign, and Sags are unusually airy for a fire sign.
The only mentionable differences I've found between Sags and Aquas, comparing me and my Sag traits to my Aquarius friends:
submitted by 2fucked2know to astrologymemes [link] [comments]
The only mentionable differences I've found between Sags and Aquas, comparing me and my Sag traits to my Aquarius friends:
- We both care a lot for other people, both strangers and close ones, and are humanitarian. But Sags have a tendency of being too naive and give next to all people the benefit of a doubt, while Aquas are more like "yeah, that person's being shitty on purpose and I'm not trusting that. Still wish them the best tho".
- We both struggle with being vulnerable in front of others, but Sags are more communicative when it comes to problem solving in relationships. We wont avoid tackling the tougher topics if we love someone.
- We both have an "idgaf"-attitude, but Sags have more people pleasing tendencies.
- We both have a bad habit of repressing our emotions, but once they inevitably resurface, Aquas have an easier time pushing them down again.
- Aquas are fixed signs and less indecisive when it comes to their foundational beliefs.
- Aquas tend to overthink things, especially their own feelings and actions, and while I do to (I blame it on other placements), it's not a Sag thing.
- We're both aloof and have our heads in the clouds, but Aquas are more aware of the things outside their head despite this.
- We both avoid being surrounded by drama and negativity, but Sags are more likely to enter a debate despite risk of conflict, cause we struggle with resisting the instinct to do so... And cause we think it's fun sometimes lol.
- We're both highly intuitive, but Sags often miss the tangible things while Aquas are hyperaware on top of their intuition. They're also more detail oriented.
- When in love, Sags have a more dramatic way of showing love. Aquas are not less loving, generous or committed, but their expressions are not as intense and over the top... And I prefer the Aqua way of showing love tbh.
- We're both ambiverts, but Sags' need for balance is greater. Aquas have an easier time being alone for an extended time, but it also takes more time for them to burnout from too much social interaction.
- If you have one Aqua and one Sag in your life that you aren't super close to, the Aqua will probably be way more reliable. But if they do love you, the Sag is likely to be the most dependable one (but tbh both are very devoted once we commit).
- We're both curious and thirst for in depth knowledge, and we're likely to be interested in other cultures, art, psychology, politics, science, history etc. But Sags want to use their knowledge to be able to analyse the big picture or understand themselves and others rather than just the specific thing they're currently learning about (connecting the dots), while Aquas are more interested in factual matters, the specific topic at hand and hence absorb more concrete information. A good example is how both me and an Aqua friend have been interested in True Crime for more than a decade in my case and more than two in his. His main reason is Criminal Technology and fascination by morbidity, while my interest has always just been one aspect of my intense general interest in psychology and the human mind.
- We both have a high need for freedom and autonomy and are hesitant to committing, but with Aquas it's mainly interpersonal (needing it in relationships) and have an easier time committing to a project or job, while Sags are like that in every area of our lives.
- Sags are more likely to get clingy when in love, and struggle more with letting go.
- We both have a very childish, goofy and playful side with a "quantity over quality" attitude to humor... But while Sags tend to like dark humor too, our overall goofy vibe is more like a toddler's, while Aquas are 7-12 yr olds lol.
- We're both inventive and have a high creative drive, but Aquas are more methodical and more likely to actually finish their projects/follow through... Like, Sags will write fantastic lyrics and come up with melodies to 20 songs in a day, but then get bored with the idea of perfecting it or actually picking up an instrument and put things together.... While Aquas take their time to make a perfect, finished piece of art.
2024.05.19 10:50 galaxy_usagi not sure if i'm in a healthy relationship
hello, everyone!
so, my story started out with me (22F) meeting a guy (29M) online and we got along really well, it was like instant chemistry; we grew close really fast.
however, after about a couples of weeks or so of texting - we finally spoke over the phone & the first thing he said was "how do you feel about polyamorous relationships?". he ended up telling me that he had a girlfriend (30F) of 9 years & that they had been looking for an addition to their relationship.
when he first told me, i completely broke down 😞 he was such a sweet man, and ive suffered a lot of abuse in my past so i thought that i finally met the right person for me.
i loved him so much that i gave polyamory a try... even though deep down i wanted nothing to do with his girlfriend and only him, and i know that it's wrong - but i just didn't want to lose him.
but now, i'm just not sure what to do with all of my feelings. his, or i guess technically - "our" girlfriend is very sweet, but at the same time she knew that he was hiding their relationship from me too.
they're both so nice to me, and theyve even been talking about buying me a promise ring, and coming to visit them. maybe even live together in the future.
i'm just not sure what to do... there's this feeling i have that i'm being taken advantage of - but i chose this 😞 and this actually isn't even my first try at this relationship. i'm just so afraid to hurt them and let them down again.
if they love me, why can't i just forget the past and move on? :( i guess i'm just afraid that no one else will ever love me as much as them... i don't want to be alone again.
thanks to anyone who reads this.
TLDR; I (22F) unknowingly fell in love with a man (29M) who was in a relationship for 9 years, and asked me to join it... but now i'm getting cold feet again. i don't want to hurt him.
submitted by galaxy_usagi to polyamory [link] [comments]
so, my story started out with me (22F) meeting a guy (29M) online and we got along really well, it was like instant chemistry; we grew close really fast.
however, after about a couples of weeks or so of texting - we finally spoke over the phone & the first thing he said was "how do you feel about polyamorous relationships?". he ended up telling me that he had a girlfriend (30F) of 9 years & that they had been looking for an addition to their relationship.
when he first told me, i completely broke down 😞 he was such a sweet man, and ive suffered a lot of abuse in my past so i thought that i finally met the right person for me.
i loved him so much that i gave polyamory a try... even though deep down i wanted nothing to do with his girlfriend and only him, and i know that it's wrong - but i just didn't want to lose him.
but now, i'm just not sure what to do with all of my feelings. his, or i guess technically - "our" girlfriend is very sweet, but at the same time she knew that he was hiding their relationship from me too.
they're both so nice to me, and theyve even been talking about buying me a promise ring, and coming to visit them. maybe even live together in the future.
i'm just not sure what to do... there's this feeling i have that i'm being taken advantage of - but i chose this 😞 and this actually isn't even my first try at this relationship. i'm just so afraid to hurt them and let them down again.
if they love me, why can't i just forget the past and move on? :( i guess i'm just afraid that no one else will ever love me as much as them... i don't want to be alone again.
thanks to anyone who reads this.
TLDR; I (22F) unknowingly fell in love with a man (29M) who was in a relationship for 9 years, and asked me to join it... but now i'm getting cold feet again. i don't want to hurt him.
2024.05.19 10:50 Vertx11 That hopeless feeling
I'm so confused and upset with myself and would love some opinions on how I need to proceed. My (31m) wife (32f) has been telling me I have a mental disorder. I recently found out she resents me for breaking up with her 15 years ago in high school. We've been married 11 years now and the past year has seemed really off to me. Every disagreement we have, she ends up screaming at me, telling me I'm a sorry POS dad and husband. She calls me a narrsisist and says I gaslight her. I honestly try so hard to not even disagree with her because I know she will blow up on me and yell at me in front of the kids. I finally confronted her in a calm way about how she gets too upset with our daughter yelling at her and getting upset about things and channeling that frustration into our 9yo daughter. My wife told me I was gaslighting her and that she was sick of me and it would be easier just to stop talking to me. We haven't had a conversation in 2 weeks. She doesn't sleep with me anymore and when I try to initiate conversation she just glares at me. I feel and have felt for the past year like I'm handling everything wrong and that's why she hates me. I'm making an appointment to see if I have a mental disorder or issue because if I do, it would make sense that I feel like I'm right about things when I'm wrong about them. I take our kids to almost all of their appointments, I pack their school lunches every night, I clean the house and wash the dishes/clothes with almost no help from my wife for the past few years and she belittled me about that saying "you think your such a good husband but you do that so you can gaslight me." I only do it so I can be more helpful. I've never raised my voice at her or our kids and she makes fun of me by mocking the way I speak extra softly when we get in a disagreement. She has never accepted fault for anything or apologized about one single thing in the past 10 years of marriage and I find myself apologizing and bending over backwards just so that we get along. I'm so sorry if this seems really jumbled up but I'm really upset and feel terrible and sick to my stomach because I don't know if I can save us this time. She's a wonderful mother and an amazing, independent woman. I just feel like there's a chance I'm not 100% of the problem. Could I get some opinions on my situation please?
submitted by Vertx11 to AITAH [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 10:50 GloboRobYaJay Boosting Low Output Headunit RCA Line Level Signal
I was asked to help a friend with a problem with his stereo. His subwoofers weren't very loud. The subs were wired to 2.5 ohm and I measured voltage at the output of the amp at around 30V. It calculated out, with the assumption of no impedance rise, to just under 500W. His amp is a 4k, should put out 2k at 2 ohm. Turning gain up any more would enter clipping/distort.
I measured the Voltage of the RCA and maxxed out at 0.6V. My assumption was that the input voltage into the amp was just too low. Friend replaced the headunit with another one and has better output now, but I had already started a project to boost the RCA line level signal without spending money on some stupid over-priced EQ device or bass enhancer.
So, I came up with a possibly viable solution. The solution is to use a TDA7297 chip amplifier to take the signal to a higher level before hitting the sub amp. The sub amp said it could take up to 9V, and that's about all that little chip amp can make when using a 12V power supply, but I really should have only needed to make about 3V.
UNFORTUNATELY! I found the wiring in my basement where I was building the little box for my chip amp and wiring it up was wrong. Someone had installed a grounded outlet with no ground, and voltage was definitely getting on the ground plane of everything and energizing it with about 60V. Long story short, I blew blow my chip amps like a moron. I have since added a ground wire and ordered a new chip amp....
I'm not really looking for advice here, maybe to give others the idea, and see if anyone has done this. It's silly, in my opinion, to buy an expensive headunit/radio if you already have one and can do something like this. I also think it's silly to buy an expensive EQ type device for this purpose.
Since researching this, I also believe there are a lot of head units, like the cheap bluetooth ones at walmart, where you could wire the high output for the door speakers to some RCA jacks and use that for your amps if you don't want to use the built in amplifier for the door speakers and find the RCA line level to be weak. Something to think about, and I think I'll grab my old head unit I've had on the shelf for years from walmart and see how many volts it can make on the RCA and on the high outs for the door speakers. Of course, if a head unit is making 20V or something, I wouldn't recommend doing this
Have a nice day
submitted by GloboRobYaJay to CarAV [link] [comments]
I measured the Voltage of the RCA and maxxed out at 0.6V. My assumption was that the input voltage into the amp was just too low. Friend replaced the headunit with another one and has better output now, but I had already started a project to boost the RCA line level signal without spending money on some stupid over-priced EQ device or bass enhancer.
So, I came up with a possibly viable solution. The solution is to use a TDA7297 chip amplifier to take the signal to a higher level before hitting the sub amp. The sub amp said it could take up to 9V, and that's about all that little chip amp can make when using a 12V power supply, but I really should have only needed to make about 3V.
UNFORTUNATELY! I found the wiring in my basement where I was building the little box for my chip amp and wiring it up was wrong. Someone had installed a grounded outlet with no ground, and voltage was definitely getting on the ground plane of everything and energizing it with about 60V. Long story short, I blew blow my chip amps like a moron. I have since added a ground wire and ordered a new chip amp....
I'm not really looking for advice here, maybe to give others the idea, and see if anyone has done this. It's silly, in my opinion, to buy an expensive headunit/radio if you already have one and can do something like this. I also think it's silly to buy an expensive EQ type device for this purpose.
Since researching this, I also believe there are a lot of head units, like the cheap bluetooth ones at walmart, where you could wire the high output for the door speakers to some RCA jacks and use that for your amps if you don't want to use the built in amplifier for the door speakers and find the RCA line level to be weak. Something to think about, and I think I'll grab my old head unit I've had on the shelf for years from walmart and see how many volts it can make on the RCA and on the high outs for the door speakers. Of course, if a head unit is making 20V or something, I wouldn't recommend doing this
Have a nice day
2024.05.19 10:50 _FizzyPop_ BD Coming to Step Daughters Birthday...
Ok where to begin.. I've been with my wife since 2021, she was already separated (but not dicorced) and had a 4 yo son and 2.5 yo daughter. She left her ex because it just wasn't working and around the time we got together she found messages and nudes he'd (at the time 28m) swapped with her friends baby sitter (16f). She reported it to the army MP's and it was all swept under the rug which is fucked up enough but he was kicked out of the army. Needless to say, not a great guy.
So my wife and I start dating, it takes time but the kids warm up to me, wife and I get married, and seeing I need to provide I join the USAF and go through the recruitment process in 2022, BD knows im joining and even being kicked out of the army knows there's a timer on when his ex and the kids move away when I get stationed somewhere.
He was only 45 min away from us at the time of me starting enlistment and by the time I finished basic and tech training which took 6 months (in total was about a year process) and he only came to see the kids about 6 or 7 times.
We got to our base in July 2023 and it wasn't until December 2023 that he even asked what our address was because he needed it for some paperwork. He never actually initiates calls or even text my wife to ask how the kids are, all contact he has with them is when my soon to be 5 SD ask to call him. He knows absolutely fuck all about what's going on in the kids lives, anything about their interest, he just doesn't care but yet every time he talks to them (which is on average once a month for about 20 min) he tells them how much he loves them etc. And how much he cares about them.
Back at new years he told the kids he'd come to us to visit (about a 10 hour drive which my wife and I have made twice to go back home for holidays since we left in July 2023) by the end of February. We'll surprise surprise he didn't show.
A couple days ago my SD asked to call him and asked if he'd be at her birthday party in 2 weeks, he said that "he'd try to be there but wasn't sure". Well my wife ans i got confirmation today from him that he was going to be here because, and I quote, "I haven't missed a birthday and I'll be dammed if I miss one now." WE asked what his exact travel plans were so we knew how to plan for his visit, and he actually hadn't made plans yet and is just saying he'll be here. Also, this whole "I'll be dammned if I miss a birthday" shit is just so infuriating because if my SD didn't ask, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea of coming out to us.
He makes about 80k/yr and we only ask for 1k/mo in child support for 2 kids despite the fact that it should be 25% of each pay check per our states laws, and he's complaining saying "well I'll be out there but I have to put everything on a credit card to make the trip because I'm saving to buy a house". We have 0 idea where all his money goes and we frankly don't care, but his financial literacy is crazy bad.
Now I have to figure out, if he does actually show up, how to handle this with the kids, make a list of ground rules for him being in my fucking house which I don't want to begin with but the kids want to see him, and making sure I don't fucking deck him when I hear him inevitably say "well they're my kids".
TLDR; BD is a piece of shit who does nothing but make empty promises to my kids just for me and my wife to clean up his mess and be the bad guys.
submitted by _FizzyPop_ to stepdads [link] [comments]
So my wife and I start dating, it takes time but the kids warm up to me, wife and I get married, and seeing I need to provide I join the USAF and go through the recruitment process in 2022, BD knows im joining and even being kicked out of the army knows there's a timer on when his ex and the kids move away when I get stationed somewhere.
He was only 45 min away from us at the time of me starting enlistment and by the time I finished basic and tech training which took 6 months (in total was about a year process) and he only came to see the kids about 6 or 7 times.
We got to our base in July 2023 and it wasn't until December 2023 that he even asked what our address was because he needed it for some paperwork. He never actually initiates calls or even text my wife to ask how the kids are, all contact he has with them is when my soon to be 5 SD ask to call him. He knows absolutely fuck all about what's going on in the kids lives, anything about their interest, he just doesn't care but yet every time he talks to them (which is on average once a month for about 20 min) he tells them how much he loves them etc. And how much he cares about them.
Back at new years he told the kids he'd come to us to visit (about a 10 hour drive which my wife and I have made twice to go back home for holidays since we left in July 2023) by the end of February. We'll surprise surprise he didn't show.
A couple days ago my SD asked to call him and asked if he'd be at her birthday party in 2 weeks, he said that "he'd try to be there but wasn't sure". Well my wife ans i got confirmation today from him that he was going to be here because, and I quote, "I haven't missed a birthday and I'll be dammed if I miss one now." WE asked what his exact travel plans were so we knew how to plan for his visit, and he actually hadn't made plans yet and is just saying he'll be here. Also, this whole "I'll be dammned if I miss a birthday" shit is just so infuriating because if my SD didn't ask, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea of coming out to us.
He makes about 80k/yr and we only ask for 1k/mo in child support for 2 kids despite the fact that it should be 25% of each pay check per our states laws, and he's complaining saying "well I'll be out there but I have to put everything on a credit card to make the trip because I'm saving to buy a house". We have 0 idea where all his money goes and we frankly don't care, but his financial literacy is crazy bad.
Now I have to figure out, if he does actually show up, how to handle this with the kids, make a list of ground rules for him being in my fucking house which I don't want to begin with but the kids want to see him, and making sure I don't fucking deck him when I hear him inevitably say "well they're my kids".
TLDR; BD is a piece of shit who does nothing but make empty promises to my kids just for me and my wife to clean up his mess and be the bad guys.
2024.05.19 10:49 BTatra Nem fura, hogy a sub nagy része nem tudja, hogy léteznek ilyen emberek? Mert a legtöbb kelet-európai országban az efféle Redditorok nem lettek elfelejtve.
 | submitted by BTatra to hungary [link] [comments] |
2024.05.19 10:49 Kind_Year_4839 Just arrived in Mistlands with the boys in Iron/Silver tier gear... the biome is SO PERFECT!
 | Almost everything we have seen about the biome is so beatiful and perfect! submitted by Kind_Year_4839 to valheim [link] [comments] The biome feels so eerie, mysterious and dangerous. The music is also perfect for making us feel unsafe at every step. Walking in the mist is so scary, there could be a monster 5 meters away from you at any moment. The sound actually matters a lot we noticed, because every mob created distinct sounds, especially the flying Gyall, that thing's sounds made us almost shit our pants, and when it followed us along a tight ravine we thought we were doomed until we met dwarves who killed the monster. The biome is so picturesque that i can't stress it enough! Jumping along the parts of the land that stick out above the mist feels and looks like out of some crazy fantasy movie, reminded me of Avatar kinda. And even when jumping above the mist, we once saw a seeker jump straight out of the mist right at us! This biome feels so much different than all the other ones, it's honestly my favourite biome looks and feels wise. The mobs there were pretty hard, but the 3 of us managed to kill some Hares and Seekers and cook their at our base back home. Overall, i feel like the mistlands's atmosphere is a solid 11/10, and made us all instantly fall in love with the biome. We also play on NoMap, so it's gonna be crazy navigating in there. We think we will mark some of the high peaks above the mist with Bonfires, kind of like in Lord of the Rings with the beacons haha! Ps: ignore my lack of Windows Arrival The view from above the mits feels so mystical and magic! Crazy flying fortress attacking us in a dwarf castle Another amazing view from above the mist |
2024.05.19 10:48 Acceptable_Pickle_81 SMC’s suitability in operating major tollways and other major infrastructure projects
Share your thoughts on this one. My gripes are under Physical Setup, Current Condition, and Layout.
SLEX: Persistent Issues: SLEX consistently has potholes and rumbles that remain unfixed for months or even years. Example, there’s a bad bump just past the Alabang exit that feels like a bad speed bump in the overtaking lane. If all lanes are crowded and another car tailing you that you can’t really put on brakes, you just hope for the best it doesn’t damage much in your car. Fortunately the gridlocks we’ve been having has mitigated this issue 💀. This among a lot more various road bumps until Sto Tomas area. Don’t even get me started with STAR tollway.
Skyway: - Subpar Modifications: the ‘improvements’ they’ve been implementing the past years like the addition of lanes without proper width, and poorly covered old lane markings, feels like I’m driving on a musical road tuned by a tone-deaf person.
The close distance as well of the outside lanes to the edges feels like a safety issue, with such small buffers compared to the NLEX connector which has a more considerate design.
Also how they handle the traffic from South Superhighway entry and the exit leading to NAIAX - at one point there’s a stop and go system implemented. Like on an expressway???
Toll Gates: - Inferior Infrastructure: While NLEX has faced numerous issues in the past for RFID issues na news pa, initiatives like those in CALAX demonstrate potential improvements, including future barrier-free tolling as per news (or kahit yung entry lang). In contrast, SMC’s Skyway Stage 3 toll booths appear temporary and lack the robustness expected from national infrastructure projects.
The recent mishandling pa of tollbooth placements on NAIAX, causing unnecessary gridlocks, highlights SMC’s trial and error approach in handling such a delicate and integral part of the capital region and also the backbone of our national capital’s economy (char oa pero medyo totoo naman)
Aesthetics✨ - Lack of Cohesive Design: medyo shallow na to pero the aesthetic quality of SMC’s toll gates is noticeably inferior compared to those under Metro Pacific’s NLEX and CALAX’s na standardized na yung tollbooth designs with their arches. SMC’s kiosk-style toll booths lack visual appeal and fail to evoke confidence for a national project.
submitted by Acceptable_Pickle_81 to Philippines [link] [comments]
SLEX: Persistent Issues: SLEX consistently has potholes and rumbles that remain unfixed for months or even years. Example, there’s a bad bump just past the Alabang exit that feels like a bad speed bump in the overtaking lane. If all lanes are crowded and another car tailing you that you can’t really put on brakes, you just hope for the best it doesn’t damage much in your car. Fortunately the gridlocks we’ve been having has mitigated this issue 💀. This among a lot more various road bumps until Sto Tomas area. Don’t even get me started with STAR tollway.
Skyway: - Subpar Modifications: the ‘improvements’ they’ve been implementing the past years like the addition of lanes without proper width, and poorly covered old lane markings, feels like I’m driving on a musical road tuned by a tone-deaf person.
The close distance as well of the outside lanes to the edges feels like a safety issue, with such small buffers compared to the NLEX connector which has a more considerate design.
Also how they handle the traffic from South Superhighway entry and the exit leading to NAIAX - at one point there’s a stop and go system implemented. Like on an expressway???
Toll Gates: - Inferior Infrastructure: While NLEX has faced numerous issues in the past for RFID issues na news pa, initiatives like those in CALAX demonstrate potential improvements, including future barrier-free tolling as per news (or kahit yung entry lang). In contrast, SMC’s Skyway Stage 3 toll booths appear temporary and lack the robustness expected from national infrastructure projects.
The recent mishandling pa of tollbooth placements on NAIAX, causing unnecessary gridlocks, highlights SMC’s trial and error approach in handling such a delicate and integral part of the capital region and also the backbone of our national capital’s economy (char oa pero medyo totoo naman)
Aesthetics✨ - Lack of Cohesive Design: medyo shallow na to pero the aesthetic quality of SMC’s toll gates is noticeably inferior compared to those under Metro Pacific’s NLEX and CALAX’s na standardized na yung tollbooth designs with their arches. SMC’s kiosk-style toll booths lack visual appeal and fail to evoke confidence for a national project.
- Structural Design Choices: medyo shallow na din to and a personal preference pero the first time I’ve been outside the country - Hong Kong and Singapore - their overpass feels so clean and more robust. One common thread I gathered is their design choices. The choice of construction materials, such as cheap-looking steel girders with thick concrete on top, immediately loses any visual appeals. This is also more apparent when these overpasses are so high up na it’s so hard to ignore. More aesthetically pleasing designs, like box concrete girders seen in SCTEX exits in Clark North or the current NSCR projects - both are or were managed/designed by Japan- offer a better view. The worst one na I always passby is the Skyway extension in Alabang, ang taas-taas and ang pangit-pangit.
2024.05.19 10:48 PuzzleheadedRun9514 Being an alone human is so painful
If I’m being completely honest my life is tragic. But outside of all these sad things that have happened to me, I feel like one of the saddest things is my lack of love. I’ve never been in love, never had someone interested in me, never had a relationship, never kissed. All that stuff. It’s not for a lack of trying, at all. But I just feel that it’s not fair, that me simply being alive and doing my thing, I get labeled as a virgin and loser by society and people I know. I get called pathetic because no girls want anything to do with me.
But I don’t care what others think of my love life. That’s not the point, that’s far from it. I myself, feel pain in my heart because im alone. I myself feel a deep sadness that I carry around with me, because I’m a lone. It’s the lack of people, compassion, love in my life that makes being me painful. Why must I feel a strong pain for not having a girlfriend? I feel the desire to have someone run their fingers through my hair, hold my hand and kiss me. Someone to hug me.
It feels so isolating, and I feel like there’s nothing I can actually do about it too.
submitted by PuzzleheadedRun9514 to lonely [link] [comments]
But I don’t care what others think of my love life. That’s not the point, that’s far from it. I myself, feel pain in my heart because im alone. I myself feel a deep sadness that I carry around with me, because I’m a lone. It’s the lack of people, compassion, love in my life that makes being me painful. Why must I feel a strong pain for not having a girlfriend? I feel the desire to have someone run their fingers through my hair, hold my hand and kiss me. Someone to hug me.
It feels so isolating, and I feel like there’s nothing I can actually do about it too.
2024.05.19 10:47 CaLinOuRS38 Which convertible sports car should I buy?
Hi everyone,
New here, hopefully I won't offend anyone or break any rules.
I'm looking to buy a convertible sports car. Budget is 30-50k€, would prefer not going over. I live in western Europe but don't mind importing from Japan or America.
My daily driver is a Tesla Model X. I've crashed one of my fun cars and I would like to use the insurance payment to buy a convertible.
I've looked at many things, from a classic Mustang to a turbocharged Honda S2000, through M4's and Corvettes.
Used cars only.
The 996 and 997 911's with a manual gearbox are certainly a possibility. I like the fact that they should retain they value. They seem to be good cars but never driven or been in one. I like the 4 seats, I've heard they can be quite reliable and I like the look as well.
I'm also interested in a C6 or C7 Corvette. I've always liked them, but they'll lose value over time. Never driven or been in one either though. They aren't too common in Europe.
A side competitor would be a Lexus LC but they are too expensive in convertible versions I think. I love Toyota's! If they made a convertible Nissan Z or Supra mk5 I would have gone for that I think.
What would be the recommendation? I look for reliability, handling, power, comfort, looks, etc. The usual suspects, really. But reliability really is important to me, I've had bad experiences before and I would like to avoid repeating them. People know me for my 'different' taste so the 911, which are as common as dirt where I live and work, would seem out of character, but the fact that they keep their value is important to me. Also, I thing they look really great. Maintenance cost will be a factor too obviously.
I'm torn! Please advise :D
submitted by CaLinOuRS38 to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]
New here, hopefully I won't offend anyone or break any rules.
I'm looking to buy a convertible sports car. Budget is 30-50k€, would prefer not going over. I live in western Europe but don't mind importing from Japan or America.
My daily driver is a Tesla Model X. I've crashed one of my fun cars and I would like to use the insurance payment to buy a convertible.
I've looked at many things, from a classic Mustang to a turbocharged Honda S2000, through M4's and Corvettes.
Used cars only.
The 996 and 997 911's with a manual gearbox are certainly a possibility. I like the fact that they should retain they value. They seem to be good cars but never driven or been in one. I like the 4 seats, I've heard they can be quite reliable and I like the look as well.
I'm also interested in a C6 or C7 Corvette. I've always liked them, but they'll lose value over time. Never driven or been in one either though. They aren't too common in Europe.
A side competitor would be a Lexus LC but they are too expensive in convertible versions I think. I love Toyota's! If they made a convertible Nissan Z or Supra mk5 I would have gone for that I think.
What would be the recommendation? I look for reliability, handling, power, comfort, looks, etc. The usual suspects, really. But reliability really is important to me, I've had bad experiences before and I would like to avoid repeating them. People know me for my 'different' taste so the 911, which are as common as dirt where I live and work, would seem out of character, but the fact that they keep their value is important to me. Also, I thing they look really great. Maintenance cost will be a factor too obviously.
I'm torn! Please advise :D