Recently I met a boy who’s smart, handsome, hilarious and best of all not interested in me in any way whatsoever. It’s a jarring experience for me. Not because I just assume all guys should be interested in me, but simply because I was able to accept it so easily. This is the first person I’ve had even remote interest in since I broke up with my last boyfriend nearly a year ago (jesus has it really been that long?). And the situation gave me hope more than anything else. It showed me that I could actually like someone else and want to carry on a romantic relationship again. This is something that I never thought I would be able to do. For the past 6 month or so I have been disgusted with even the thought of romance and any type of relationship with another human being. It felt wrong to consider myself available to another person when I had been so emotionally despondent. My mind was constantly on the verge of melancholy thoughts, and frankly, it was exhausting. It’s not like I was trying to be sad. Feelings like that just sort of manifest themselves.
Things got to be at their most pathetic when I went to my best friend’s formal. Everyone was drinking except for me. I had been too hungover from the night before to look at alcohol without gagging a little. So I just observed. When it came time to dance I hit the floor with my friend for a while until she drunkenly stumbled into the arms of a former hookup and stayed there for the remainder of the night. I couldn’t blame her. I mean I would rather be dancing with someone who’d kiss me throughout the night than someone who’d maybe give a platonic butt squeeze every now and then.
But that left me all dressed up and alone on the sidelines to watch all the couples kiss and all the straight people flirt. It would have been amusing had I had someone to talk to, but since I didn’t know anyone well enough to hang out with them for more than a few minutes, I pretty much just wandered around and tried to look like I was anything but dead sober and ready to get the hell out of there. It was enough to be left by my date, but being subjected to all the love in the room made me want to cry a little. Not talking to anyone gave me time to reminisce and I already did enough of that without the help of 100 people grinding happily to a second-rate DJ’s wedding mix. Remembering was (and is) hardly a happy process anymore. Obviously there are good memories but I’m so fucking sick of thinking about them all the time. At this point I consider them to be a product of an undiagnosed mental illness that is potentially triggered by anything and everything. Just repeated words and pictures that keep coming back to me.
Anyway, while I was wondering around I ran into one of my friends from high school. I asked him who he was there with and he told me it was one of my friend’s friends: a guy whom I had known since my freshman year. I had to shake my head in disbelief. I thought he was joking. He was a straight guy – I had known him for over four years without thinking anything to the contrary. I don’t know if it was because he was drunk or because he felt like he could trust me – but he came out of the closet to me, right there next to the dance floor. I didn’t know what to say except that I was proud of him for being able to come out (even though he said he was “only bi”, but aren’t we all?). “But I hate it” – he told me. “I hate that I am… you know” – it was one of the saddest things I’d ever heard mostly because I knew exactly what he meant. He was ashamed of himself and although he accepted that he liked guys, he still wasn’t okay with it. I knew then that I was over that part of my life and thanked god that it was only temporary. That’s what I told him – it’s only a temporary self-loathing. It’s like an initiation you have to go through before you can actually be happy with who you are. I told him that sometimes I’d sell my soul to be a straight “normal” guy but usually I’m proud of it. He didn’t seem to understand but he will eventually.
This was a good epiphany moment. I realized that whatever self-loathing I’d been harboring was important. It was part of a larger process. And I didn’t have to let it go, but I did have to accept that it would eventually dissipate. Maybe I’ll always be a secretly sad boy, but eventually I’ll be able to come to terms with it and find someone who can love me for it. I learned that the process is what really matters and I can tell it will lead me to where I need to go. I don’t know if I believe in fate but I definitely believe in cosmic cause and effect. Everything we do affects us and leads us to something bigger.
As for the boy I had a crush on (still have a crush on I guess, but I am trying to wean myself towards being nothing more than a friend), he’s not terribly significant. I sometimes have dreams where he gets stranded at my house and has to sleep in my bed. We cuddle and I give him a kiss before waking up feeling upset and stupid. It’s never anything sexual, just purely romantic and I feel weird for even having him in my dreams. Prior to last week we had never even talked for more than a few minutes. Although I wish I had a chance with him I know that I have to take things how they are and he hasn’t shown any interest on being anything more than friends. I’m not mentally stable enough to try to force a relationship to materialize. I think I can be satisfied with just dreaming about him for a little while longer, and seeing him as a sign that things are getting better. My thoughts are no longer 100 percent occupied by the ghosts of my past relationship. I’m becoming free finally. And it may take a bit more time but this progress has made me hopeful.
I’m sick of being such a passive member of the tumblr community. I mostly just reblog post after post without adding any of my own content. So I’ve decided that I want to try to challenge myself to put a little more work into my blog by creating a gif every day for a year. I know that this isn’t the most original content that I could be contributing but at least it’ll be something that I’m constantly creating - which is more than I could say before. I’m going to do my very best to make gifs that I haven’t seen before and that are unique and more interesting than your average gif.
If you’d like to track my progress you can click the #365gif tag on my sidebar. All the original gifs will also be found under my “My GIFS” link. I’m really going to try to stick with this and post at least one original a day. If you guys see me slacking be sure to motivate me.
Also, 365 days is a long time, so if anyone has any suggestions of what I should make I would be more than happy to oblige.
you've taken your break up much harder than you should have. while it is not easy to go thru these things, you're missing the key issue. Your relationship, while real for you,was in actuality not. you were the good person, you put yourself out there. you were mistreated, and lied to. if it was real, you wouldn't have been replaced so quickly.while who you thought he was was good for you, who he really is wasn't. give it time,and someone will treat you how you deserve. your a good guy,be patient@Anonymous
I know I’m taking it hard and I’m trying not to take it so personally. Trust me, I never thought I would be this upset, and I can’t even believe it still bothers me. But I was just so utterly surprised and blindsided by the circumstances that it’s taken a long time for me to get back on my feet again.
I really hope you’re wrong and it wasn’t all just a fake relationship. It seemed very real. But I guess I’ll never know for sure. The fact that he was able to replace me so quickly does seem to cheapen all the things he said to me, but that’s neither here nor there. The fact is it’s over and you’re right I do need to get over it, which is what I’m in the process of doing.
Thank you for your kind words about me being a good guy - I like to think I’m a decent human being but it’s always nice being reassured. I hope that someone comes along someday to sweep me off my feet, but honestly at this point I’d rather my prince charming just keep his distance for a few years.
Things have been all over the place lately. I’m doing well in school, I got an amazing internship in Boston, Christmas is very soon. Things are good. Things are not too shabby. I love my friends and my family and I’m not dead or sick or homeless. I keep coming to roadblocks though. I keep unravelling the underlying truths of the world and it always brings me back to the same place. The same state of mind. And it still hurts more than I thought it would. Maybe even more than it should, but I’m trying not to overanalyze that kind of thing anymore.
I realize that I don’t ever want to be in a relationship. It’s dramatic, I know, but I honestly don’t ever want to be put in the position of having to hurt someone, or having them hurt me. Let’s be real here: a relationship is just a bomb counting down until destruction. Something will set it off. It’s only a matter of time and it’s always someone’s fault. It’s always devastating. I guess in some scenarios more than others, but it always hurts. And it always ends eventually.
The happiest ending you could hope for is to die not completely despising one another. And nowadays couples rarely even come close to that. So why would I want to go through the process of flirting and self-disclosure and conflict and resolution when I can just skip it all? Can’t I just skip it all? I realize that I’m weak enough to not even try for love at this point. I don’t need it. I have porn and I have friends. Anything more is superfluous.
My body aches. It’s nights like this when I’m tired from work and customers gave me a hard time, and I actually take stock of how weary and fed up I’m feeling, that I notice that my heart is actually in pain. It’s throbbing right now, like in those cartoons where a character accidentally hammers their finger while trying to nail something into place. That is how my heart feels. It’s heavy and engorged and raw and tired and it’s as sick of caring as much as I am. But neither of us can help it can we?
See what I was talking about? Roadblocks. And all detours lead here. I really can’t help it. I am mad, but I’m more confused than anything else. More blindsided and dumbstruck than I can even articulate. Still. Even after six months or so, I’m left with so many questions.
Was he ever in love like he said he was? How could it have been love if it goes away after two weeks and you are able to move onto someone new? Did it even take that long? Was he already invested after one week? Three days? Twelve hours? I’m really curious as to how someone can justify that in their head. How does one go about jumping from one person to the next without some sort of guilt or moral objection? I certainly am not one of those people. I kissed someone recently. After over six months of being single, it still doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t seem like I should be with anyone else and it’s been half a fucking year. So I’m a little confused by that.
But in a way it makes me feel a bit better that I’m in turmoil over this whole thing. It shows that I wasn’t lying about my feelings when I said I was in love. Maybe it was all a lie for him but I sure felt it. And I know because of how bad it still hurts now. How I know it will continue to hurt for at least a little while longer even though I hope it will go away tomorrow. To me it was real and that’s what makes it hurt so much. It would’ve hurt without the salt of someone new being rubbed into the wound. That made it unbearable. That made me realize that people are shitty. I had had my suspicions but that reallllllly convinced me. What the fuck. I’m getting angry just thinking about it. But mostly confused.
The worst part is thinking about what kind of stories are getting told about me. Exes always tell the worst details about each other. They long to make the other lover seem like the bad guy. Like they were completely undateable and repulsive. Like they had serious mental issues. I wonder what my issues are going to be. Or if I will even be mentioned.
The other worst part is that I don’t even wish they would break up. I honestly hope they are very happy. From what I’ve seen they are an attractive couple, although I don’t let myself look anymore. I wish him the best of luck because he is a great guy and I loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. He was truly my best friend and I ultimately want to see him happy. Even if seeing him happy is going to make me want to kill myself. That is without a doubt the worst part.
I just wish I was a big enough person to move past these types of things, instead of whining about them on the internet to absolutely no one. Who in their right mind would read something this massive and pathetic?
I really hate to dwell on this. It seems like all of this happened so long ago and that everything is probably inconsequential by now. But I only dwell on it because I don’t know how to move past it. Not fully. I’m trying my best, but for now it just feels like I’m living underwater. Not even in the sense that I’m drowning. I don’t feel like I’m drowning. I feel like everything is blurry. Like I’m under ten feet of water and I feel the pressure but I’m also floating there. And all the lights and sounds and sensations I should be feeling have to force their way through the water to get to me. Blows, both positive and negative, are soften to the point of having almost no impact at all. And anything I hear seems muted and unimportant. I guess I’ll have to surface at some point, but for now this is where I’m at.
I’m being dumb. Goodnight.
That day we were out shopping at Goodwill looking for ugly sweaters for a party that you wouldn’t be attending. You told me that I wasn’t unique or special. I still think about that every day. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. Still hurts though.
Things have been on the rough side for me lately. To say I’m going through a transition is an understatement. I’ve started up school again and this is my last year. I have so much to look forward to, but it really isn’t the same without having someone to share every moment with. I’m definitely not used to not being able to divulge every detail of my day with someone who I know will want to hear about it. But what are you going to do? I’m okay. Well, I’m a lot of things, but okay is one of them. I’m sometimes sad, partially numb, largely bitter, somewhat content, but for the most part I am very very scared.
I’m scared that I’ll never be able to find what I had again. I don’t think I’ll ever find someone worth skipping class for to just lay in bed all day with. Or someone who is willing to call out of work to spend one more night with me. How am I going to find someone who will fit perfectly up against me and whom I can sleep soundly and feel so safe next to? It seems like I’ll never find someone who surprise-tickles me just because they like the sound of my laugh. Or someone who will sync Itunes libraries with me and not make me feel embarrassed about my taste in music. I just want someone who I can go out to eat with or cook with or dance in the shower with. Or someone who will text me good morning every single morning without fail, even if they’re mad at me and don’t feel like talking. I won’t be able to find someone who will hold my hand on long car rides, and kiss my eyelids when I’m sleepy.
I’m scared that I’ll never find someone who’s lips are perfect up against mine. Or someone I always have something to talk about with. Someone who will watch all my gay shows with me and actually enjoy them. I want someone who’s mom — even before meeting me — will make me a christmas ornament to hang on the tree and make me feel like part of the family. Or someone who my mom can make a quilt for. I don’t think I’ll find someone who can unload all their insecurities and baggage on me and let me try to make everything better - even if they know there’s nothing I can do. Someone who I can hold hands with and who’s bum I can secretly squeeze in public. I just want to be able to find someone who I can cry to about my problems and know that everything will be better after we talk things out. I’m scared I’ll never find someone who will know me better than I know myself. Someone who will be able to know exactly what’s going on in my head without having to ask.
Most of all I’m just afraid I won’t have someone who will miss me once I’m gone. But, who am I kidding? I never had that in the first place.
I guess I’m not as ‘okay’ as I thought I was. But I’ll get there. It’s just a matter of time
(Another sad Adam post, sorrrrry)
Someone asked me how I was doing today and I couldn’t help but hesitate for a little bit. I was completely caught off guard and taken aback. In that moment I had no single word that I could possibly come up with that would accurately define the different emotions that I’ve been going through lately.
I primarily feel like shit. If I could, I would probably spend 20 or so hours in bed everyday just because doing mundane every day things like showering and working and communicating has gotten to seem so overwhelmingly pointless that I would rather just skip most of it and watch movies or read for the majority of the day. My heart hurts. It feels so heavy and sad and I think it may even beat slower now. I’m not normally someone who gets caught up in emotion but these last few weeks have been very different for me. To put things mildly, I haven’t felt like myself. I think the person I refer to as “myself” is gone anyway, and someone new has taken his place.
I feel bruised. My ego shattered. I’ve been erased, forgotten, replaced. And it was so easy. It hardly took 2 or 3 weeks before any trace of me was covered with someone new. That may be what hurts the most. The fact that something you create with someone —something that took hours and days and months to develop — can be gone so quickly. Like none of it ever happened. Ow.
I feel fragile. I don’t want to talk to people. I don’t want to date. I don’t even want to think about dating. I don’t want to have much contact with anyone. I find solace in familiarity: my close friends, my sister, my dog. But other than that I just don’t want to let anyone new into my life. I’m too scared — too horrified — that any new memories will replace memories of him. And although I don’t want to remember and have to dwell on it all, I also don’t want to forget.
I feel immature. Should I still even be hurt by all of this? I seem to be the only one who cares anymore. I’m clearly the only one who feels like curling into a ball at least 3 times a day.
I guess I also feel stronger. Sure, my heart does hurt, but I want to think of it as a growing pain. I’m learning things about myself and about people and life and human nature and I suppose that’s really valuable if you can look past the actual pain. It counts for something in the end.
I feel liberated in a way too. But not in a good way. I do feel free. But it’s the kind of freedom of being let out into an open field with no direction and no guidance whatsoever. It’s a freedom of being abandoned; of being released, but still trapped. I guess I’ll just have to find my own way.
So when I was asked how I was doing, I did hesitate. I did feel my heart race a bit and my brain search for something - anything - to say in response. But in the end I just said I was fine. I don’t even wanna deal with this shit, I sure as hell don’t want to have to unload it onto someone else.
I saw Britney Spears the other day, in the flesh, and it made my life hell. I went to the Xfactor audition tapings which for some reason was 30 minutes from my house in Providence, RI. Demi, Britney, Simon, L.A., all were there, and probably wondering what they were doing there as much as anyone else. As soon as I saw Britney walk out with her security orbiting her like moons to a planet, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My ex-boyfriend.
He was a huge fan of Britney and i couldn’t help but think that he belonged there by my side with me. I had always wanted to surprise him with something like this - a chance to see one of his idols in person, mere inches away — but there I was, without him and I all I wanted to do was fold in upon myself.
It has only been a few weeks since we ended our relationship, but I’ve always prided myself on being someone who could bounce back quickly from situations such as these. I’ve been the one who was able to turn any situation around and return to positivity in full force in little to no time. But this hasn’t been as easy. Sure, there have been some moments where I felt single and empowered. As if I was ready to take on the world. But those moments were fleeting and often followed by huge waves of sadness and loss. Lately I’ve been overtaken by these feelings, more so in the past few days then in the past couple of weeks. I guess it’s finally sinking in and, god, does it hurt.
Nearly everything reminds me of him and I find myself reminiscing almost constantly. Am I supposed to think about him all the time? Is that part of the process in accepting that we’re no longer together? Or is it better to try and forget? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation before. Even if I wanted to forget, is that even possible?
How will I ever make an iced Americano without seeing him swallow a large cup of espresso and water in record time? How am I supposed to go to Boston without expecting to see him shopping for dapper things at H&M or American Apparel? Can I even go to Panera Bread and pretend we didn’t have our first date there, and that I didn’t fall in love with him immediately?
He really was my better half. People lovingly refer to girlfriends or boyfriends as their “other half” but under our circumstances it was a very apt title. I was always an awkward mess and he was always well put together, witty, and almost poised. And god was he beautiful. In almost every way. He made me laugh more than anyone else ever has and I was able to open up to him about nearly every aspect of my life. It’s hard for me to drive without him sitting in the passenger seat holding my hand and being in charge of what songs would be playing on my iPod for the trip from Narragansett to Boston, or Boston to Narragansett.
I’ll miss our jokes. How he used to point out the hairs I missed when I shaved. Tickle Tuesdays, where he was allowed to tickle me as much as he wanted. Ordering Wok and Talk late at night in the city. I miss how he used to spoon with me and how his room looked all lit up with Christmas lights. How he always seemed to pair his cologne with his outfit or his mood. How he had so many pairs of underwear ( many of which are now in my drawers. I miss his facial scruff and how big his eyes were. How soft his lips were. I miss eating popcorn with him, and him complaining that I ate it all, because I really did it almost all of it. I miss that one time when I was practicing a speech for class in front of him and he tried to distract me by starting to undress in front of me. I really miss his smile, and the rare occasions that I made him laugh. I miss that I embarrassed him when I would start talking to strangers in public, and him saying that I don’t have to be friends with everyone, even though I really wanted to be. I miss the moments when we would see cute kids in public, and look at each other and picture ourselves as the dads to an adorable baby girl. I miss shopping in Boston with him, and getting static shocks from the escalators in Zara’s. I miss watching TV with him, ANTM, and American Dad, American Horror Story, and Millionaire Matchmaker. I miss him telling me he’s “Boss” and going out to eat for special occasions, it seemed like we had a lot of those. I miss the boy I knew who would text me every morning we weren’t physically together. And when we were together, would wake me up at 7 am just because he didn’t feel like waiting for me to wake up. I miss the showers we took together, when we would squirt water in each other’s faces, or when we would talk in accents and mispronounce words, just to make each other laugh. I guess I just miss it all. Every part of him.
But the number one thing I miss, is when he was happy. I stopped making him truly happy, there was too much stress and turmoil and it just wasn’t working. That’s why we needed to stop seeing each other I think. We needed to make sure that the other was happy no matter what it took. I want him happy and that’s all. If he’s happy, that’s all that’s important. Even though it hurts, I know that I can be happy too, even if it’s not with him. I know he’s off too bigger and prettier things and I’m going to have to learn to accept that. I am going to cherish all the time we spent together. He really and truly is the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, both inside and out and I can’t possibly fathom what he saw in me. But I consider myself lucky. He truly made me a better person and I’ve learned so much from him in the time I was able to call myself his boyfriend. I sincerely hope our paths cross again, but I know for now that we aren’t right for each other and shouldn’t be together. There’s a reason these things have to end after all. But I think there will always be a huge part of my that loves him. Always & Forever.
The tides are changing and something new is afoot. Change isn’t supposed to be this sudden, but for some reason I feel as though I am now on the verge of something… miraculous. Sure, there have been some words minced, feelings hurt, weaknesses exploited, but maybe it’s all worth it. What are we willing to sacrifice in order to become a fully-formed self-actualized being? What needs to be sacrificed in the name of creation?
This feeling is one that only comes around once or twice a year, and every time it lifts me up, refocuses my vision, and enthralls me just a little bit more. I know that eventually this feeling will be the thing that pushes me from mediocrity into greatness. But for now it is here, slightly dormant, to tell me that there are new things in the works. I don’t know what it all means, but I trust it; I embrace it. I feel the aligning of stars and planets and the creation of new galaxies. I feel my body excitedly going through it’s mundane cycles, but with new purpose, as if preparing for something unknown and fascinating. I feel the sun giving me light and warmth and illuminating the way. But mostly I feel my heart beating faster and faster with each consecutive day. Empowering me and driving me forward into the future.
I am filled with this great energy. I am completely and utterly recharged and I can now see the world and the two truths that are its foundation: Everything is beautiful, and everything will be okay.
When you utter/type/shout those three words — that declaration, that confession, those beautiful words that say so much more than three billion words ever could — all you want to hear is four words back. It takes hardly any effort, and sometimes hardly any thought at all, but it means the world. It’s reassurance, protection and security. It’s not so much of a response as it is an agreement that this is real and there is no need to be afraid. That you are not alone in your feelings, but that there is someone who is by your side. Someone who you can entrust in. But when you don’t get that four word response, it can be disastrous. It can be a realization that can shatter your state of mind, and cause the world to crumble under your feet. It can be as if all the color is removed from your life - and even if only for a moment it is still jarring and gut-wrenching. There is physical pain associated with these types of things. Who would have guessed that the lack of four words could be so painful? They’re just words after all. But everything is ruled by rhetoric and what we choose to say - or what we choose not to say. You don’t need to study the history of human discourse to know that this can only be a harbinger for more sadness to come.
Is it possible to ever truly and absolutely make someone else happy? I ask because I’m trying really hard and nothing seems to be very effective. I suppose there are ups and downs. Happiness isn’t a constant, it changes like the tide, like the cycles of the moon. It ebs and flows. It waxes and wans.
But still. It can’t be this easy to make someone completely unhappy without even trying, without even meaning to. And yet, time and time again that’s exactly what I do. I force unhappiness upon others like a psychiatrist would force a premature diagnosis. It’s just accepted in that instance and there is no need for a second opinion, a prescription is already being written out.
I guess my main problem is that I keep stumbling over my past. We are the mistakes we make and even though I thought I’d been forgiven I guess it’s something that I’ll never be able to live down. It’ll always be a lingering thought, a thorn in my side, a deafening silence. It’s something I’m going to have to live with. No matter what I do and no matter how hard I try I can’t change the past. That’ll forever and always be a source of unhappiness. Fuck.
I spent the last 3 hours or so in my room doodling in my moleskin and listening to music/ the sound on the washer/dryer completing their cycles. It’s been very relaxing and a great time for contemplation. But I still feel a bit… anxious. I guess that would be the best word to use there. Anxious.
One person shouldn’t be able to dictate how you feel, should they? One person shouldn’t be able to hold power over the way you interpret the day. They shouldn’t be able to make you feel needy and nauseous with a few words, or lack of a few words. But it happens. And in these moments where all I want to do is find out what exactly is wrong, I realize it’s best to sit back and let these things unfold naturally. Not to nag, not to fluster, not to pry. But, goddammit it’s hard.