Hi, I posting here as I don’t know where else to post and who to ask for advice.
Briefly, I met a guy last year on a dating app, we had a couple of dates and nothing happened at all. After a few weeks, I kinda lost interest due to my personal life and circumstances and I told him and ask him if he would accept to be my friend. He got a bit mad and said that for him we had a mental relationship even though we met every now and then and nothing had happened and conversation were not sexualized at all nor was there any seduction or I would have put a stop to it… He stopped talking for a few weeks and then came back by himself saying he accepted but that he was not that close to friends and that we were going to talk occasionally which I agree with. Months passed and we kept talking by messages and on the phone and he started being or trying to be ambiguous so I had to restate that we were friends as we had agreed on. But at that moment he said that he wanted more and that if I didn’t want then we would be friends and not talk that much. I agreed with it since I never initiate contact almost and he is the one calling etc. He tried to put some dilemma on me like if you expect me to talk this much (we have a call once every few weeks and messages probably once every other day) otherwise I won’t do it etc. I told him his definition and modalities of what a friendship was fine to me and that we could follow his rule. Here is when he started saying that he didn’t need any more friend and that this wasn’t a friendship. I told him that I didn’t understand as talking to someone casually the way we do is very much of a friendship to me, how else could we call it ? Especially after having defined and agreed on it a few months back. I felt bad of having responded to his texts and calls as I do for other friends as I have the impression it mislead him even though I am particularly careful with my words and actions so as never to be ambiguous (I even mentioned many times our friendship etc). Although, I am by nature a friendly and caring person with my friends I don’t believe I could have given him wrong signals. Or is it already too much to talk and be nice to someone ? But isn’t it what friends do ? Also I am not dating right now but the day I will I usually have no problem talking about that with friends, how will he react ?
Am I wrong ? Did I misbehave ? What is happening ? Is it me or this is a strange way from him to try to “force” something with me ? How could he still want something with someone who told you “no” so many times ?
Something else that makes me question his personality is that he said that what we were doing was not being friends. I am surprised to say the least as I have the chance of having friends and this is usually what happens with them, I mean we talk and call and see each other just to enjoy time together. He asked me what these friendship bring to me and I said joy and happiness. And he said that he is busy and only has friends that bring him something and help him through his life goals. I said I respected his concept of friendship but I can’t help but wonder if this isn’t a bit particular way of thinking… Also I asked him if for him there was no value in time shared with loved ones just for the sake of it even with family for ex and he said no and that he would only for example spend time with his mom to pay her back for what she did for him. I was astonished but I didn’t comment further.
Should I put some more space between us ?

It's 29 the thunderstorm has passed, the moon is melting
under the stars a fight has passed,
both our loves hidden did we love each other too much?
teenage love filled with good byes,
is it our time to part?
take me back. take me back, take me back
to all those silly kisses to all those silly winks,
take me back take me back take me back to when we were 18,
all the miscommunication for the platonics made us tectonics,
we fractiored and rifted the trembles felt across our world, it was a Richter disaster.
I don't want go i want to grow,
there is a grief lurking 4 5 years to come,
while I make my career my roots will burn,
the 2 seeds to my family 'dhampur' will burn.
Oh Ophelia pardon this Hamlet for he did the deed planned by the master orchestrator,
but i don't want us to go can't we just hold,
wait and grow,
sprout together because oh Ophelia,
in the garden u went for me,
in the water of my love did u drown,
oh Ophelia i can't blossom without ur fauna ur lushy hair,ur pearly eyes.
Tell me u love me,
I don't want ur dreams I want me in ur dreams.
My attachments to this world are a few, I am on the birch tree wanting u with me,
wasting my life with u, get rich, travel and die all with u.
Oh Ophelia i will atone for my bad,
for the next hug I don't want the kiss to be awkward.
I am manifesting u 24 25 this master orchestrator famous for his tests will put u back in my life,
for I will try all the breaks u want to take,
take them for I can't unlove u. Taking ur space was the last thing I wanted but I didn't want to be alone,
it was fucking stupid of me,
but please save a little me in u because I will fall.
The hoodie I want this to imprint on my skin,
all the medicines I want them to burn my insides,
I want ur smell to lighten up my dead body,
for my soul rests with u. This dagger is deep in me,
twisting every second of the day,
maybe God has someone else for u but he won't laugh like me he won't write like me he won't be me.
I will wait on the station for the sun to set,
I will wait for u rotting on the bench growing roots seeping into ur days.
Always remember my love for u not my mental health my medicines my insecurities,
for they are drowning me in ur love. Oh Ophelia let this Hamlet die for he can't bare this pain of separation,
oh Ophelia u loved me like no can but it's my nature to cry,
oh Ophelia this winter when the plants die when the winds are the fiercest I hope we bloom.
Oh Ophelia give this Hamlet a chance for its time who stood in our way, it was never fair for my hedonic is u,
Hamlet isn't ready for war but it's fate who fights him,
when I return, on my feet or as somebody's burden,
always remember this I loved u till my last breath and will wait for us for all my lifetimes.

Howdy, it seems lots of my friends are busy or not interested in going comic con next weekend. Hence I'm looking for a strictly platonic friend to tag along with me to comic con.
A little about me: INFJ, work full time (mostly from home) within an STEM career. Shy, very introverted (unless I'm comfortable with you then I can be chatty and come off as an extrovert), empathetic and family orientated. I can be silly, cheeky and sassy at times too. I don't drink and I'm not the clubbing/bar type.
My interests:
• Long walks through Central London
• FOOD (I can cook and bake but prefer eating out mostly at Turkish, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Chinese, Mexican, Indian cuisines)
• Heavy metal, hip hop, rap, grime, acoustic but generally listen to anything
• Self care via gym, spa days, retail therapy and long drives
• Movies (psychological thrillers are my favourite)
• West End theatre shows, plays and musicals
• Museum and gallery exhibitions
• Attending eurogamer or comic con
• Anime
• Binging Kdramas
• Video gaming
If you are looking for a new friend in London then please get in touch with a bit about you. Messages with detail appreciated!
Toodles!

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?

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.

So the person I (29F) am dating (33M) just confessed that he was involved in an extra marital affair with a distant family member. They aren't anymore. Sounds pathetic but I still asked him if he would like to go ahead with me and he wants to. But he cannot cut-off the person from his life permanently as they are family friend, close to his mother (his mom tells them to keep a tab on him since he is alone in the city) and also the affair created a bond between them. The other person has asked him to marry and not be with someone else during the affair while they enjoy their married life.
I feel broken, rejected and pathetic. I understand people take steps when they are lonely. But I cannot understand why someone would want to live a lonely life with someone who they can never have any sort of social life with instead of choosing me?
Is this his trauma response? I am unable to understand his reaction? I started dating after 7 years of a serious relationship and I feel petrified - of this situation. How do I approach? Do I ask him questions? Do I leave? I feel absolutely shattered even of the thought of leaving him since he is a good human being, I don't want to judge him because he takes care of me as well. Its been so long that someone took care of me - maybe its my lonely response.

Hello everyone. I left my entire family and have not talked to them for years. Lately, I've been having mental health issues that forced me to look within myself to see what's going on(or turn to total destruction). I'm almost certain that it is due to me trying to block out the abuse I endured as well as the lack of closure when I departed. As I am emotionally maturing, I am learning that people are flawed(due to circumstances they could not control), even my parents. I don't want to rejoin my family but I want to let my parents die in peace for the good things they've done for me.
Since I am still struggling with my mental illness(although improving with exploring my trauma and accepting my parents flaws), I want to connect with my parents in 10 years when I hopefully am doing well enough to converse through the pain and forgive them. I want to write a letter to my parents to tell them of my intention to see them again but just not yet. I'd love hear your opinion on my plans to do that and would love some responses from people who have done something similar. I'm in my late 20's and my parents are in their 70's if that matters. Thanks.

I live in a country bordering Schengen area and this is my profile:

1. Irregular immigrant. Every 30 days I go out for 1 day, and that keeps going for several years.
2. No job. Only occasional side hustle online.
3. No money. No comment on that. Living abroad is more expensive because you pay for rent and immigration lawyers.
4. Deported. From the country where I live irregularly. The police thought I was an irregular immigrant. They had no legal grounds, because technically I did not violate anything. The decision was successfully appealed.
5. Sanctioned country. Moreover, I cannot return there.
6. No ties. No family, no property, nothing.

I think that's more than enough to conclude I should not be allowed into the EU.
Nevertheless, I frequently go there and violate nothing, have no plans to request asylum, etc.
At the same time, many people with really good applications get their visas rejected.
From my point of view, that is not fair, because I am not a better person compared to them.
Logically, even having much better profiles, they are much more likely to break the rules? I.e. a university professor from Pakistan on average would cause more problems than an Eastern-European bum with 200 EUR on bank account?

I'm from Utah County and non-Mormon, so you can see the obvious fun I have dating /S. I'm not making this a sob story; the real reason I'm posting here is that it feels a bit more personal than most dating apps. I'm a pretty cheerful, confident guy. I can be a massive smartass and yap a lot, but I can have serious conversations and value communication. So, if you need an ear, I'm game, but do expect the same in return. I tend to be out and about a lot, usually doing stupid stuff and trying not to get hurt or in trouble while doing it. Most of the time, I'm a pro, but there are quite a few stories where I fumbled, lol.
I like to work out. I mostly do calisthenics. I'm admittedly fairly skinny but decently toned. I've also taken up running, but I'm not Usain Bolt, lol. I also play video games, mostly military simulation games like Arma and OHD. I also play platformers like Mario and Sonic, with Sonic being my go-to for my neurodivergent self. I'm big into history, mostly WW2 and the Cold War, and some WW1. I'm actually working on making a Cold War-themed board game.
On top of being a nerd, I do have a sensitive side. I know some of you have probably rolled your eyes, but hey, I like to write poems, and I'm a huge flirt when I warm up to someone. I'm looking for a sweet, caring person around my age and preferably living in the USA. I'm not picky, it's more important that we click, you know?
As for my values, I'm very liberal and an atheist. You don't have to share my views exactly, but I'm being upfront now to avoid causing issues later. I drink sometimes and don't use drugs. I don't care if you use pot, but anything harder is a no-go zone for me, as my family has some history with addiction. If you want to talk, I'm down to give you my Snap or Discord in DM

Sorry if this is the wrong sub-reddit for this one.
I (16m) have come to the conclusion 2-3 images that I would die alone without any true friends (other then my best friend in the Netherlands), Without any loving family, wife, son or grandchildren.
For years I have been trying to make friends, did so much fof then, gave in to what they asked for and what they asked me to do in the hopes of getting better friends.
The only one besides my entire family and one friend that cares in all honesty would be my father, he was born in 1970 Yugoslavia and saw hardship and tries his best.
The irl school friends I have are very few, some just hang out with me for the fun of it just so I don't get mad or sad, some show their colours and don't give a shit.
I've been feeling sad and depressed since 2017 when I moved fromjmy hometown of Sremska Mitrovica, where I didn't even have any friends but they pretended just for my sake.
This is why I have concluded i will die alone one day.

I have lost my mother and grandmother at an age of 19 due to covid in 2020 because of that I had a conflict with my father and living in distance to him. From 2020 I'm staying with my mother's father (grandfather). Apart from food and accommodation remaining every expenditure is on my own. My grandfather is well settled and his son is software engineer. During COVID I helped him in moonlighting as he told he will give me 40K for working. I parallel worked in my current company and his job to get extra money. Atlast he didn't gave money and I accept it. In Indian culture after grandmother expired gold will be given to her daughter which is my mother. As my mother is not there they have to give it to me but they didn't have anything. Also my grandfather gave a word to my mom in past that he will give a flat to her but that also he skipped. I'm still staying with my grandfather, I earned good amount to stay alone but to save more money I'm staying in their house. Recently my uncle (grandfather son lost his job due to moonlighting) I'm supporting there family from past 6 months by giving 40,000₹ per month they told they will return back after getting money. Recently I met with an accident and my gt650 was heavily damaged it needs a repair cost of 40K still I gave that money to my grandfather as my uncle is not having job. Yesterday for going to gym I used their bike and they scold me for that. Usually they will scold me daily for small small things and I don't care about it. After giving 40K and paying 6K for medical expenses he is asking to pay current bill and book 3rd AC train tickets. I felt very bad that they not treating me well during my low times. What you will suggest guys I need to go out from here ? I accept they have taken care of me at my age of 19 but not financially.

I’m on a time crunch to pay my tuition for my summer semester tuition. My FAFSA won’t cover my summer semester because they can’t cover 3 consecutive semesters. I currently don’t have the money available and I don’t have any family that can help. I’m going to reach out to a few friends because I don’t know if I have many other options. This is my last semester and I’m really stressed about this because I had plans fall through with FAFSA, car trouble, & didn’t receive a check.

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.

It’s not that I’m going to do it tonight, tomorrow, or next week, but my highs aren’t getting any higher, my lows are getting so much lower. I’ve done things while sad before that I regret the next morning. I’m just getting to the point where I might not make it because of one rash act. The thing is, I’ve thought about it before, I’ve even had a plan, and even started working to set things in order for my end. Basically everything is ready to go… I want to and yet I don’t… but I’m just thinking it’s really going to happen this time.
I’ll have lost. Everyone who hates me will win. I never tried to hurt anyone. I over care I over worry and over think about others feelings and well being. My past won’t die, and it just keeps being brought up over and over inadvertently. I can’t keep my mind from racing through all my thoughts and memories.
I’m tired of being used, lied to, taken advantage of, hated, cheated, and just generally being treated badly.
So what if I live or die. No one needs me. Those that “want” me only seem to want to use me.
I cry myself to sleep lots of nights thinking and overthinking the abuse and trauma from my childhood, the bad relationships I’ve had to everything I’ve ever done wrong. The feeling of worthlessness and lack of self esteem grows I don’t see why I would be anyone’s first choice I’m probably not even on anyone’s list.
Like really… I know I’m not my gf‘s first choice, my parents like my brother better, my work doesn’t need me, no one NEEDS me, no one WANTS me… I’m just walking through life a lonely Kafka thing.
I’m getting tired, I feel like I’m struggling to hang on. It’s just going to be easier to let go.

Why exactly is it such a terrible mess now? I mean when you look at all the problems in society and all of the negative things going on, etc. etc. Theres all of these things like the "friend zone" and "nice guy" and "bad boy" Blah blah blah and all that nonsense. Yet there are bars set in place that are holding us all back with all these so called things going on. For example. Say you really had the hots for a woman, and you'd love to tell her that if you had consent you would love to pound her hard in the nearest love hotel. Yet of course there are also many factors such as preferences, personality, what you have in common, hobbies, etc. What confuses me the most is how sometimes kindness is mistaken for weakness. Or being a good and decent person and instantly becoming positively obsessed with a love interest in a good way is misunderstood or shot down by rejection? There are very many factors in play here. What perplexes me is why things are in such a chaotic state in the first place. Shouldn't a man and a woman just love eachother because they truly like eachothers personality, looks, etc.? Why all the games? What the hell are we doing as a species or even a culture?
Everyone has their preferences, hobbies, career, ambitions, etc. Why is everything so divided these days?
Why can't we all just find love easily by being ourselves instead of being put into this stupid game of "what ifs" "friend zone" or any of the other balderdash and nonsense?
If you love someone for who they truly are, then the answer should be you would be willing to love them forever, even beyond death. Yet, society has deliberately divided the family unit and has also parasitically infected and divided people. We must all wake up and realize that True, Pure, Genuine love is indeed the way.
Why then, is dating in the modern era so difficult when in the ancient era people would just be with one another because they genuinely liked one another? I feel things these days are very out of touch and I'm just trying to provide a positive point of view on this subject. Everyone has their preferences, likes, dislikes, hobbies, skills, interests, etc. Why then does society insist on this stupid "game of love" or "love is a battlefield" When everything should be plain as day to be your genuine self? I feel there is a major disconnect in society and humanity in this era because many people have forgotten their history and as consequence repeated it. I do believe it is our responsibility to create a new era in which love is found more easily with those who would truly appreciate you.
For example. say there was a man who had endured psychological, emotional, and all kinds of other misfortune all his life. Yet, there was a woman out there who would sympathize with him and have compassion because either she too had been through the same thing or in many other potential ways was just looking for someone who she could relate to or understand? (as well as on intimate levels)"
I think that many of the things going on today in this modern era have inhibited progress and made things increasingly more difficult. We don't need lies, corruption, greed, or any of that nonsense.
What we need is peace, love, progress, genuinely taking care of the environment in the correct and ethical way. Not some electric vehicle that creates more waste and emissions to produce than just a vehicle that modestly runs on gasoline. I'm sure I may get hate for what I stated there but I don't care, this is an in depth discussion.
What indeed happened previously in history? Where did people lose touch? Where was the disconnect? What ever happened to two people genuinely loving one another for who they are rather than what "society" told them to do? Brianwashing needs to be made illegal to prevent further damage. I say this from the perspective that there is far too much heartbreak and sadness in the world. Love and happiness is the answer to that.
What do you all think? Please do share how you truly feel, as this is meant to shed light on what we must change in order to have a bright future.

I’m at a bit of an impasse right now. I want to pursue a graduate degree but I’m worried that I’m not of the caliber to be accepted into any program so I’d appreciate anyone’s advice on what I can do to try to realize this goal. I’ll try to be concise.
So I’m a recent graduate, receiving a B.S. in Chemistry with a concentration in Biochemistry. For many years I’ve known that I wanted to pursue a graduate degree in chemistry. I’m very passionate about chemistry, especially inorganic chemistry from group theory to bonding theories such as crystal field theory I can’t get enough of it.
As for why I yearn for a graduate degree, well I’m am very drawn to research and teaching which are both present in academia. I love the challenge of research and participated in research during my senior year where I started a project with one of my professors, while I am also drawn to teaching because I simply feel joy from helping others understand chemistry, especially when they’re students who feel that chemistry is too hard or “beyond them”. I’ve gone out of my way many times during my undergrad program to help classmates understand our material.
My academic record is mediocre/acceptable. My overall gpa was 3.11 and I’d say my major gpa was similar or slightly higher which I think is hurting my prospects. I faced financial strife on several occasions during my undergrad degree, the first time I had to withdraw while the second and third times I had to move mid-semester due to renters selling their property, but i still kept up with my studies (I’ve never failed a course). I also had to care for a terminally ill family member during my juniosenior years but never felt like I couldn’t keep up with the coursework though I do feel that I may have gotten higher marks if I hadn’t faced these issues.
Following graduation, I did try to apply for a few inorganic chem programs at some UC’s in California. I had no issue getting enough Letters of Recommendation from my professors and I did make mention of my research work, including what I presented at my university regarding it. However I was rejected by every program that I had applied for, though I was only able to apply for 3 due to the cost of application fees (I hadn’t found work at the time so money was limited). I have discussed this with my professoresearch advisor, who seemed surprised that I only received rejections. I suggested to him that maybe I pursue a MS instead first but he seemed to want to dissuade me from that, and suggest that it wasn’t necessary. I shared one of my personal statement drafts with him and am awaiting feedback on if it was perhaps poor.
Other than that I am aiming to apply to many more next time, including programs out of state, but I am beginning to doubt myself and question if I am meant for a graduate program. For those familiar with graduate level chemistry, is there anything I can do to strengthen my application in the future? Will having job experience in industry help me? I really do not want to give up but I feel that I’m just at a loss regarding what I can try to do.

Hello , If anyone wants to buy rodha cat 24 batch 2 full course at discounted price please dm ,I bought it in Feb but due to some family problems I have canceled my plan of pursuing mba . Thanks 🙏

I have had periodic depression since my early twenties, I’m 39 now. It usually starts in the autumn and lasts until late spring. But sometimes longer. I used to not notice it when I was younger I just connected it to external factors of life. But now I’m much more self aware of the problem and try not to blame outside factors like work, relationships etc because I know it’s a false path. I tried that before. Changing jobs, changing relationships, moving cities, it does not make a difference - this dark cloud follows me everywhere.
My symptoms are: * negative thinking - and over focus on negatives around me. Like noisy neighbors, politics, increasing prices of things, my job etc etc - I become like a grumpy grandfather.

• stress and laziness at the same time - I feel like there’s too much pressure on me to do “stuff” that I don’t even know what it is, and at the same time I’m too lazy to do anything and have to force my self to do things around the house for example.
  
• feeling of hopelessness and wanting to quit everything. My ambitions fade. Stop caring about my career, my fitness, my visual appearance, my hobbies, friends and events - and just generally become a slob.
  
• escapist thinking - I start to dream about moving to a different country, selling the house, going on a long trip, changing jobs, etc And I motivate that by explaining to my self and others how awful it is where I’m at right now.
  

My coping patterns have been the following:

• withdrawing to get time alone as much as possible
  
• trying not to verbalize my negative thoughts because I have learned that it’s not socially acceptable to be native so much. I have often got the comment “ don’t be so negative “ and it’s a big trigger for me that makes me angry and withdrawn.
  
• trying to focus on my self like going to gym, watching movies I love, playing video games.
  
• temporarily down prioritize stuff that is “hard” - like chores around the house, working less hard at work, skipping some social events when I don’t feel like it etc.
  

Now to my problem: I can’t use those coping mechanisms any more. I now have a wife and child and a house. They need me. My son needs me. I can’t just escape in to my computer for hours of the day or go to gym. He’s just below 1 year old and he needs somebody to watch him all the time. I love the little guy. But in combination with my depression I find my self in a negative spiral.
I feel like I’m doing everything against the stream - I have to force everything I do through out the day. Playing, cleaning , cooking. Doing projects around the house that need doing. I find my self complaining a lot, and my wife is fed up with it already. And I can understand her. Im constant grumpy and tired. By the end of the day I have used up all my willpower to do anything to the point where I don’t even want to brush my teeth before going to bed. I have 0 action energy left. I have not even changed my clothes in like 4 days.
On top of that there are social events that were not there before. Meeting with daycare parents, my wife’s friends that also just got kids etc. I really dread those but I force my self to pull through. And some times my grumpy mood shines through and I make everybody feel bad.
I guess I’m kind of involuntary project my mood on others and make them feel the same way. But I feel bad about it at the same time.
I don’t know what to do now. There’s no where for me to escape and hide with my dark cloud now and recharge my energy. I have to be there everyday. I’m worried that this new life that is more demanding than before will ruin my marriage and break apart my family.
My wife has been very understanding and suggested I should take a day here and there for my self. And I have. But it seems to not be enough. I feel guilt for taking that day off and leaving everything at home to my wife. And then when I come back the energy I have regained is gone very fast. It’s not sustainable.
In a few months I have to go back to work and I’m not sure I will be able to. I’m worried about getting fired or burned out. I have nightmares about my marriage ending and can’t sleep properly because the little guy wakes up multiple times at night. I feel like they would be happier without me to be honest, at least this version of me that I hate my self. I don’t want to be like this, but I am anyway.
I don’t know where I should start now. I thought I had it figured out living with my depression but now I feel hopeless and I have not answers for my self.

So I just started dating this woman. We have been together 5 weeks. I have been quite generous with my time and resources already.
She’s new to my country having been here for 5 months. She doesn’t have family here.
She’s working a casual job as a health care aid. It doesn’t pay well.
I have been helping her with rides to work and have taken her for hookah numerous times since it is what she has said helps her relax.
I pay for the hookah and I buy her small meals from time to Time. It was her birthday and I tried to make it very special. I took her to a nice scenic town famous for its views and tourism. We adventured and I bought her a couple of nice gifts and wrapped them. I put a lot of effort to make her feel special.
I have not pushed her for intimacy although we have kissed a few times. No passionate kissing either and I have not asked her for that since I’m happy playing it slow. I do enjoy spending time with her and developing a bond which we have so far.
Anyway, she needs to find a new room to rent in the city. Since she only works casually and doesn’t make much money she is in a bind. She needs a new place but she fears she cannot afford rent and the damage deposit.
I have been helping her drive to vacant rooms to view all over the city this last week with nothing but a generous spirit hoping to help her.
So tonight she asked me to give her money for the damage deposit: “if I could help her”.
I replied by saying: “ I don’t feel comfortable just giving you 500 dollars. What if I lend it to you? No expectations on an immediate return but some assurance that you will return it to me some time or some way since I don’t want to feel taken advantage of.”
By someway I don’t mean sex either. I mean like find a way to make it up to me when you find more stability.
I’m between jobs rn and I was just in an accident and am paying for things out of pocket so things are kind of tight.
Once I find a new job I will feel more secure financially. However rn, I feel it’s a bit much to ask for a 500 dollar gift when I have been so generous already with my time, my vehicle, my treats for hookah with is like 45-60 bucks a date and all the meals I have bought.
I understand she’s in a bit of a predicament and probably wouldn’t want to ask me if the circumstances were different thus I’m a bit torn. Part of me wants to help but part of me wants to remain cautious.
AITAH for asking for her to repay me the money she needs even if I say there is no immediate request for a return ?

I, 27f, and my ex D.D., 27m, had been high-school sweethearts and moved in together after high school. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and we were happy for years. Then, in the last year of our relationship, he grew cold towards me and borderline abused me. After attempting to talk to him, he left me one week when i was extremely sick and I ended up in urgent care after my family came to get me. My ex was not there nor did he care so I left him. After some time, I kept him in my life as he was still a friend in my heart. I kept him at a distance, but still friends. I never got over him. It's 4.5 years later and he started talking to me more, telling me about work and complaining about his gf, C.S.. I had never met C.S. so I gave him advice. He then starts talking about how he misses me and dreams about me. This makes me feel nice but I kind of ignore it. He again complains about C.S., then goes into detail how much he misses me. Days go by with this. Then, he stops messaging as much one day. After a week, he talks about how he can't leave his gf and how he's not available. I understand but I told him he hurt me. He then goes on to insult me by saying I use him as therapy, that I haven't changed, how we could never be in a relationship, and thay his gf is amazing and he won't leave her. I was baffled since he was complaining about her, saying he thought she was only using him since she was self reliant. I asked if he told his gf what he did and he said she had access to all his texts. He then goes on to tell me I make him uncomfortable and how he's going to block me. I have been a sobbing mess ever since and feel like i lost a friend. I can barely eat, i cant sleep, and he haunts my dreams. I hate it. I have no idea what this is or why this happened. I feel heart broken and don't know what to do or what to make of this situation. What do I do?

I 20M started dating a girl 19F around 8 months ago. She was the best thing that happened to me. Even before meeting her, I was pretty good and socially popular, but meeting her was just icing on the cake (she was literally the best, she comforted me, she did all my homework, and somehow Idk if it's good at all but it seemed I was the center of her life, all her future plans were with me, her every action connected to me somehow). She on the other hand had severe emotional trauma, and an identity crisis, including a lack of independence, and a lack of awareness of what she wants (all accredited to her parents). She also had some personality crisis, like she had been faking herself for so long that she forgot who she really was. I helped her through all of these things, she can now accept her true personality and be as she is (she was always pressurized to be this certain version by her parents), and she knows what she wants (earlier all her outfits were selected by her mom, now she has a voice of her own and wears what she likes), etc. Lately, every person and I'm not just talking friends here, the uni authorities the educators, the seniors, everyone has just one thing to say - this girl is sucking the life out of this boy, he is not the same cheerful kid he was some months ago, and his smile is long gone. My question is is it even possible, I don't suspect a thing, but everyone around me is thinking the aforementioned and not a single is saying otherwise. The seniors are saying that I'd end up ruining my career if I stick with her, I really don't know if it's possible - she's the sweetest most innocent girl I've ever seen. One thing that stuns me is that we've never in 8-9 months had an argument, never have we had a fight (minor things exist like I crack a joke and she's not in the mood, but that's very rare), and never have her opinions been different from mine! To be honest I'm a very difficult guy to be with, for eg since we almost spend the entire day together in uni, I'm not the guy to specially take her out on weekends, I'm not really the gifting type either (tho I'll add that I verbally praise her a lot), i crack a lot of offensive jokes, especially targetted at her parents (ya know, for what they did to her), I make her jealous often (all in good spirits, lol), and she somehow agreed with everything as well, like she had no problem with anything whatsoever. I'm actually so surprised at these points that make me question if what everyone is saying is true (like the too good to be true case). I didn't wanna bring this point in, but (and let me say i do not believe in astrology), 3 astrologers (first when I was around 10, the other when I was around 15, and the last very recently) told my family, that before I turn 21 a girl would come in my life, who would distance me from my mom and eventually, ruin my careelife. My mom has disliked my girlfriend since the 3rd month or so, earlier she tried hard to like her. My mom has had huge fights and given silent treatments to me for the last 5 months, and the epicenter of almost all fights (when I say fights I literally mean hours of yelling) and silent treatments (which I do not defend at all, and have been min 3 to max 10 days long) have been her. My mom, in addition to all the points she has against my gf, thinks that she might be a gold digger. I really don't know what to say, tbh it goes without saying that earlier I was very cheerful and had a very positive mindset as compared to the present, like in the last sem vs this sem. Please, is it even possible??! Edit 1: Some other details Since the first month she's been talking about marriage Also, one of my first interactions with her was her praising how my house looked based on a story I posted