#i refuse to use any of the godforsaken apps i dont want to know how many calories im eating

[megatron-moving-to-megatron]

unfortunately i must start tracking protein intake

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: chapter 11

@dansyellowshirt I have a new chapter and it made me cRY writing it just ask my bff I gave myself FeelingsTM but enjoy everyone I queued this just for yall

Tags for chapter: angst, fluff, aphobia, internalized aphobia

Words for chapter: ~4.6k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

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~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan finally closed the door on his flat, it was nearing five in the morning. Jaime had tried to convince him to stay over because of Dan's high strung emotions as well as the fact that it was a ridiculous time in the morning and Dan hadn't had any sleep, but he had refused. After a teary "bye" and another bear hug, Dan had found himself walking down the pavement in the vague direction of his flat, head down, mind wandering.

By the time that his feet had brought him to the door of his apartment complex, he felt squeezed, as if he was being pushed into a mold that he couldn't fill.

Dan kicked off his shoes and left them haphazardly by the door as well as missing the hook on the wall for his jacket, but not even bothering to pick it up from the floor. He would probably end up tripping over his mess later and regret not fixing it, but he couldn't give a rat's ass at the moment.

He stripped himself of his clothes once he got to his bedroom and dragged a pair of pajama bottoms over his legs and a loose shirt with a wide cut that sometimes slipped over his collarbones, but was comfortable.

Dan resisted the urge to flop into his bed right then and there—he was exhausted—and kicked his dirty clothes out of the way as he walked back out of his bedroom. Dan might want to just curl up in a ball at cease to exist at the moment, but he would hate himself a lot more later if he didn't even try and perform some kind of personal hygiene. And brushing his teeth would go a long ways in the direction of un-fucking tomorrow morning. Or later this morning, actually.

He flicked on the light and just blinked a few times to adjust to the bright-as-hell fluorescent bulb he had for some godforsaken reason. When he looked in the mirror, however, he nearly dropped the toothbrush in his hand and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. He was staring at his reflection, mouth open, eyes wide, and he could see the shock on his face, but he also wasn't paying much attention to it because his hair, jesus christ.

It wasn't like Jaime's hair, which was practically neon because her hair had been bleached while Dan's hadn't, but it didn't seem to matter as much as Jaime had thought, because it still looked good. His hair was curly due to not being given a chance to straighten it after Jaime had washed the dye out, but his normally brown curls were replaced by midnight-ish blue ones. Dan ran a hand through it, still in a bit of disbelief. When Jaime had finished with his hair, he hadn't looked in a mirror or asked for a picture. Instead, they had just rubbed a towel on Dan's hair to keep it from dripping and fell on the couch, where they talked and cried and laughed for a little bit. Dan stared at his reflection for a few moments, feeling time tick by with the beat of his heart.

Then, he laughed, the sound bubbling up from his throat as he tugged lightly at his curls. His blue curls. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, but he was smiling ridiculously at his reflection and laughing; it didn't make too much sense to him.

"Maybe I'm finally losing it," he muttered, looking for the toothpaste in the cabinet that hung above his sink.

A few minutes later after removing the gross feeling of his mouth and playing with his hair a little more, Dan crawled into bed, the need to rest sinking deep into his bones. He rolled over and grabbed his phone on the nightstand where he had left it when he was getting dressed. Dan plugged it in, and when the screen lit up in its normal fashion whenever it was charging he couldn't help but see the several text notifications he had.

Frowning, Dan unlocked the phone and clicked on his messenger app, which promptly showed texts from Jaime and...Phil.

Biting his lip, Dan clicked on Jaime's name. Her text was short and sweet and completely to the point, but Dan still couldn't help the warm feeling that blossomed from his chest. He typed out a reply and sent it.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

i took u off the schedule for work later today

so dont worry abt coming to work kay? and

take some time out for yourself alright? u

deserve a break

>>To: my maraschino cherry

tysm jaime i'll make it up to u, promise

<333

Her little three bubbles popped up immediately, and he nearly started crying at her reply, that's how fragile he was at the moment.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

<333

Really. A typed out heart had no reason to pull at his heart so much. It wasn't fair.

Dan backed out of he and Jaime's text conversation, and he was confronted with Phil's waiting texts, blinking up at him seemingly angrily. His thumb hovered over the screen and Dan's heart was pounding in his ears. He tried to imagine what Phil had texted him, and how much he had apparently felt so strongly about it, for there were eleven texts from the one and only Phil Lester.

He's probably telling you that he doesn't want anything thing like that from you anymore, and how you're a fucking freak, idiot. What else would he or anyone else have to say?

Dan swallowed thickly and clicked the screen off, dropping the phone on his nightstand like it had burned him. He could deal with it tomorrow.

~~~~~

Dan slept fitfully, tossing and turning and barely being able to stay unconscious for an hour. His dreams weren't helping matters, either. He kept having nightmares over his ex-girlfriend, snarling at him in disgust after he had tried to explain it. He kept seeing that afternoon, Dan sitting on her bed, she standing over him, her mouth moving, her words booming from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, rattling inside Dan's eardrums and taking a sledgehammer to his heart. Except, her voice and face were Phil's. And then before Dan knew it it was Phil, telling him everything he had been trying to convince himself wasn't true since...well, since everyone he knew told him it was.

Freak.

Unnatural.

Confused.

After a handful of hours of the back and forth that he just couldn't stand anymore, Dan crawled out of bed at around noon, only a few hours of collective sleep in his system. He stumbled into his kitchen, his duvet bunched around his body. Dan grabbed the box of cereal he had on his counter and just shuffled into his tiny lounge, dropping himself onto the sofa immediately and sighing as he settled into his sofa crease. Dan flicked on Netflix and opened the box while he was waiting. He stuffed a fist-ful of dry cereal into his mouth as he flicked through his options. Thank god for reality TV, Dan thought as he selected some new Netflix original, and thank god for people with just as shitty lives as mine having a TV crew to record it.

Several hours and numerous episodes of his show later, there was a knock on his door.

Dan was curled up in a ball on his couch, his monochrome duvet still wrapped tight around his body like a cocoon. The box of Crunchy Nut had fallen to the floor close to an hour ago, and Dan didn't care. He hadn't even really eaten much of it anyways.

After a few seconds, the knock sounded again, just as insistent and obnoxiously loud as before. Damn, don't they know that some people are trying to mope, Dan humorlessly thought, craning his neck to look at his front door.

It returned, but this time it sounded as if whoever it was was using their fist to pound at the door. Dan groaned and cursed the inevitable determined-as-hell salesman at his door. He dragged himself to his feet and thought about shedding his duvet to keep the remaining shred of his dignity intact, but with the pounding having yet to stop, he threw the thought out the goddamn window. What the fuck did he have to lose?

The noise continued, refusing to let up even for a moment, and Dan once again wished that whoever was behind the door would go jump off a damn cliff.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Dan shouted, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob after sliding back the lock and yanking the door open. His mouth was already open to lay into whoever it was, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

Phil was standing there, incredibly close to the doorframe, his hand still raised to continue trying to beat Dan's door in. His breathing was slightly irregular and his eyes were wide, hair in a complete disarray. Phil was in his Tesco employee uniform, but it was rumped as hell as if he was coming straight from one of his shifts.

"Dan," Phil breathed. He sounded so so relieved, but the relief was dripping with a thousand other emotions tangled together, and there was no way that Dan could try and pull them all apart.

Phil swallowed, and flicked his eyes over every inch of Dan—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his shoulders, his partially hidden legs, his feet, everywhere. Reflexively, Dan knew that his skin should be crawling, but the feeling never came, and Dan realized a second later that it was because Phil's gaze wasn't looking for anything like that. It wasn't that kind of hungry. It drank in the sight of Dan like he was never going to be able to again. And Dan didn't know how it made him feel.

"I need to talk to you." Phil said, finally snapping out of it and looking Dan in the eyes. He sounded desperate, and his blue blue eyes were pleading.

Dan's heart was pounding and he wanted to say no just as much as he wanted to say yes. He didn't trust his mouth, and for once he managed to keep it clamped shut. Last time he and Phil had been together and how he had just blurted it out was enough proof. So Dan just stepped back and let his front door swing open a fraction of a degree more than it had been a few seconds ago. Magically, a massive amount of tension melted off of Phil's shoulders and he stepped through the opening and into Dan's flat.

He closed the door, and at this point, Dan's anxiety was in full swing, starting to wreak havoc in his head. Dan just clutched his duvet tighter in his hands and let his shaky legs take him back into the lounge. He sat on the couch, and Phil sat himself down too, on the opposite side. Dan stared at the stitching in the fabric on his cushions, and he could feel Phil's gaze on him. They were both silent.

"If you're going to yell at me, just do it, please," Dan whispered. He didn't lift his eyes.

"Yell at you? Why would I ever?" Phil said immediately. He sounded appalled.

"Running out, kissing you, being, well, me," Dan said, his right hand emerging from his duvet to gesture to himself, "among others. I've certainly given you enough reasons, I'm sure."

Phil didn't say anything, and Dan just sank lower and lower in on himself.

"Dan I...where did you...why would you think I would yell at you?"

Dan shrugged.

"That's what everyone does." The when I tell them I'm asexual was left unsaid, but Dan had the feeling that Phil understood.

Dan was expecting virtually anything at that moment, but in normal Phil fashion, Phil surprised him.

"Dan, did you see my texts earlier?"

"No…?" Dan said, his confusion making him look up. Why the hell did a few texts matter right now? Phil didn't even meet his gaze, he was standing so fast, practically jumping off the couch and looking around.

"Where's your phone?"

"In my bedroom but why do you—Phil!"

Phil took off right down the hallway, looking left and right for Dan's bedroom and finding it, disappearing for a few seconds before re-emerging and marching straight to where Dan was still sitting. Phil shoved the phone towards Dan after he sat back down.

"Unlock it, please."

"Phil, I-"

"Dan, please."

Helpless to the desperation and unfacilitated emotion in Phil's voice, Dan robotically tapped in the five-digit passcode he had on his phone. It unlocked and Phil grabbed the phone back, tapping a few times in quick succession.

"Phil, what-"

Phil just pushed the phone right back into Dan's hands. On the screen, Phil's texts were pulled up. Once again, Dan tried to speak, but Phil just cut him off.

"Dan, read them, please for the love of god read the fucking texts." Eyes wide, Dan looked down at his phone.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please come back

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan? Where are you? Are you safe? Please

tell me you're alright.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please I'm worried sick

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

It's really late right now, 3am actually, and

you left hours ago but damnit Dan I haven't

been able to focus on anything since you

left. I cant even sleep.

Im worried abt you and want nothing more

to talk to you right now but you arent answering

your texts and I cant even really blame you

you looked so scared when you blurted out

that you were asexual I wanted to cry FOR

you

And you being asexual is okay! Believe me, I

promise I have no prob with it, I would be a shitty

person if I did, and all of the people out there that

DO have a prob with it are shitty

But Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, I really wish you hadn't

run out on me, you know? oh, well I guess you

dont know, thats why you ran out huh...well

whenever you read this, you'll know

There is not one part of I, Philip Michael Lester,

that gives a shit if you are asexual. You are you

and to be frank I wouldnt have you any other way

than how I know you. Youre asexual. Okay. The

only thing that has changed is my level of

understanding of you bc now I just idk know more

abt you

Youre funny and sarcastic and cynical and insanely

kind even tho you have that big bad exterior and you

have a goddamn heart of gold Dan, and since things

are potentially already fucked between us, I'm just

gonna come right out and say it - I'm fucking head

over heels for you, Dan, every part of you, and YES

that means the asexual part of you too so dont even

try and let your head tell you otherwise

Like I said I've fallen so hard for you, okay? When we

kissed i stg it was like a daydream of mine coming true

right before my freaking eyes, Dan. Youre someone

truly incredible and goddamn i would love to be a part

of your life, as sex free as freaking possible in any way

you would have me.

This got really long and I hope youre not responding bc

youre sleeping but Dan please call me whenever you

read these okay? I dont want you to think that I could

hate you or anything bc of your sexuality bc that couldnt

be further from the truth

Dan looked up from the phone screen, and he could feel the streams of tears on his face. He hiccuped, and Phil had tears in his eyes as well, and such a pained look on his face.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice tight. Dan nodded hurriedly, and Phil wasted no time, scooting forward and instantly wrapping his long arms right around Dan, pulling him into his lap. Dan started to sob, and Phil clung to him.

"I don't find you disgusting, or shameful, or wrong, or broken, or anything, Dan, anything but who you are. You're asexual and you're you and I would never, never, want you to be someone else. I'm so sorry you had to hide. I'm so sorry you got scared and I fucking hate whatever and whoever made you so terrified to be yourself." Phil said, sniffling himself. "Please believe me, Dan." Phil whispered. Dan nodded, his head pressed against Phil's shoulder. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth wasn't working and his brain had shut down and he was crying.

Phil held him as he cried, almost just like how Jaime had been holding him not too long ago. And when the tears stopped, Phil just continued to rub Dan's back. They didn't say anything, and part of Dan was grateful for that, but the other part of him wanted to try and tell Phil a thousand things at once. His brain was stuck like a broken record player, a mantra of Phil Phil Phil bouncing around his skull. He was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, Phil didn't hate him, he didn't.

And in that moment, Dan was reminded of the ghosts of his past. And he wanted to tell. He suddenly craved spilling it all out for Phil, leaving himself bare and open and pushing all of the secrets Dan has held inside of him for so long out in the open.

"It started with my ex."

Dan felt Phil shift his position underneath him but Phil didn't let go of Dan once. He took a deep breath and continued. "She and I had been friends, and we eventually started dating. It was nice, and she was great, real lovely and sweet and kind. We went on a few dates and held hands and kissed a few times—all that stuff. We started going steady, and seven months in and a few times of trying on her end, she convinced me to have sex with her." Dan said, starting to pick at a string on his duvet. "I did it mainly because I wanted to make her happy, and because I thought that I always felt so off about sex due to never having it. I didn't know that something like asexuality existed. I didn't like it, hated it in fact, and by the end of it, I was trying to balance a panic attack. I ended up leaving after a few minutes to 'clean up'," Dan made little quotes with his hands, "but when I got to the bathroom I threw up and panicked."

Dan stopped and licked his lips. He hated reliving it, but at the same time he wanted to talk about it with Phil, he wanted Phil to know everything about him. God, Dan was even confusing to himself.

"It was my first time, but I don't think it was hers, and after I came back we cuddled and watched some movies and stuff. She didn't seem to realize that anything was wrong. After that sex became something normal in our relationship. She would always initiate it, and I would never say no, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this time would be the time when my head and my body got the message that I was supposed to like this. But it never happened and months passed and I just kept getting more and more depressed and anxious. I started making up excuses to get out of it, and when she called me out on it, claiming that I didn't love her anymore, I told her that I was asexual. I wasn't really confident in my label because I had found it only for a few weeks at that point, but after I kind of explained how I hated sex with her and felt disgusting and threw up and was so so anxious, she got quiet. And then…" Dan swallowed, "and then she started yelling. She told me that I was lying, that there was no thing such as asexuality, and that I was just making stuff up at that point. She said...a lot of other stuff too."

"Can I ask what?" Phil said, his voice just as much of a whisper as Dan's. It wavered, and there was something tight and emotional in it. Dan nodded.

"After I kept trying to convince her that I was asexual and that it was real, she changed tactics. She broke up with me on the spot and told me that I was a freak and that there was something wrong and broken with me. She told me that no one would ever love me if I didn't give anyone sex. That I could just...die alone and 'like I should'. She said that too, the whole, 'like I should' thing. And then she kicked me out of her house and told me she never wanted to see me again."

When Dan finished, Phil moved his hands to Dan's shoulders and tugged gently, pulling Dan's head away from the crook of Phil's neck that it had been resting in. He was frowning heavily.

"You don't believe that, right?"

Dan shrugged. He didn't know how to tell Phil the truth, but he was sure that Phil could see how he was blinking back tears. Fuck, his past hurt.

Phil's frown just got deeper, and his head jerked, as if he had wanted to move it forward but decided against it at the last moment.

"Promise me you'll deck me if I make you uncomfortable, okay?"

"Phil?"

"Just promise."

"Okay…" Dan said warily. Phil nodded, and leaned forward, kissing Dan's forehead.

"You aren't a freak."

Phil's lips moved to Dan's temple.

"You aren't broken."

His cheek.

"You aren't wrong or unnatural."

A kiss on his nose.

"No one that actually matters wouldn't love you just because you're ace."

Dan's other cheek.

"And you won't die alone because you don't 'deserve' that."

Phil pulled back fully, and fuck, Dan felt like he could start crying again. Phil rubbed his thumb over Dan's cheekbone, the rest of his hand cupping Dan's jaw, and Dan leaned into the touch.

"Was she the only one you've ever told?"

"No, I told you, and Jaime, and my parents. All of my friends and schoolmates found out too, but I didn't tell them. She told them."

Phil frowned.

"Did none of them seriously accept you?"

Dan laughed humorlessly. "No, not one. From then on I was the laughing stock of the whole fucking school. A teenage boy who throws up after sex? Pathetic. I was asking for all of the assholes that picked on me afterwards. And it's not like I have the best track record with people actually thinking that I'm not, you know, a freak. My mum started crying after I told her, like I had just said I was dying from some terminal disease. And my dad straight up threw me out after he was through screaming at me. I ended up sneaking back in after they had gone to bed to grab a bag full of stuff and all of the money I could carry, so I wasn't that bad off, but it took me a few days to move down here and find a place to stay." Dan gestured to the flat they were in. "I then got the first job I could find, which was the one down at the coffee shop and I met Jaime, thank god. Thankfully I told them after I had finished school, though I didn't get the chance to go to uni like I planned. Two years later, I'm still in the same spot I crashed in." Dan's voice was raw and there were a few tears making their way down his face, but Phil would just wipe them away with his fingers.

"How long has Jaime known?"

"Not very. Last night after I ran out on you I ended up at her place and broke down and told her. She accepted me, don't worry, and we ended up crying in her kitchen together. It's also where she and I did this," Dan said, pointing to his hair. Phil smirked and ran his fingers through it.

"I noticed the hair, believe me, it was one of the first things my eyes went to when you opened your door. I just had much more pressing things to try and hopefully work out with you than your sudden hair change."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Phil said, his hand once again dragging its way through Dan's curls that he had yet to tame. Dan melted into the contact and felt his body relax, sighing happily.

"This is okay, right?"

Dan nodded, still feeling very content with Phil's hands raking through his hair.

"Mhm, definitely. Kissing, hugging, cuddling and all that is okay because none of it is sex. And god playing with my hair is at the top of the list." Dan blurted out. He felt his face grow red instantly from his confession, and Phil laughed.

"Guess I know your kryptonite, then. Though Dan, I have another question, if you don't mind."

Dan's stomach dropped and he felt fear crawl up his spine no matter how much he couldn't help it. It was his gut reaction and Dan suspected that he would still need quite a while to get over it.

"Ask away."

"Did you get any sleep last night because I also noticed your horrendous eye bags."

Dan gasped and shoved Phil's shoulder, who started to giggle, a hand coming up in front of his mouth. Dan tried to keep up his annoyed charade, but his face cracked into a smile in no time and then he was laughing right along with Phil, the tense air that had been between them ever since Phil showed up to his door dissipating into something much more natural and much more...them.

"Okay okay, but seriously, Dan you look bloody exhausted."

"And? You don't look that much better, Philly." Dan rolled his eyes, but Phil just poked him. "Oi. I slept a little before I went nuts texting you, and then I got a handful of hours in after too. How about you, huh?" Phil poked Dan again.

"Fine, if you must know, I think I got a few in total, but I don't know, exactly. I had trouble staying asleep and well, I gave up after a little." Dan said, shrugging.

"Dan!"

"What? I was distressed! I deserve a free pass!" Dan cried. The playful attitude between them was still there, which Dan was grateful for. Phil hummed and wrapped his arms back around Dan, but he used their combined body weight to roll back. Dan was laying on top of Phil like this, and Phil's arms were still around him.

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I like it. Now sleep. You need it."

"Phil I can't just sleep on demand like that."

"Yes you can, now shush, and sleep."

"Phil!" Dan whined, squirming a little but not trying very hard to break free of Phil's grasp. "What if I'm not tired? And besides, don't we still have to talk about stuff? Like us—if there is an us—and maybe me if you have other questions still, or-"

"Shhhh" Phil said, pressing a finger to Dan's lips. "We're not talking about anything else until you get some sleep, Dan." Phil said. Dan rolled his eyes, but he also sunk into Phil's embrace. It felt nice to be held.

They fell into silence, but it was comfortable and familiar. Sooner than Dan might have liked to admit, he started to feel his eyes droop, his exhaustion from the past two days catching up with him.

"Sleep, Dan," Phil whispered, one of his hands playing with Dan's hair, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Dan smiled, and let his eyes close.

[15001700tt]

Reflections of the Deep Sense of Self

well, i dont really have an audience except for a handful of mutuals and the many porn bots that i cant seem to get rid of no matter how hard i try but i am still gonna use this platform to voice out my thoughts since i have too many of them and i feel like i might drown if i don't talk about them.

i dont necessarily think that i am a person that is easily swayed by men, i was able to emotionally control myself quite effectively in my youth.

my first crush was simply a pick from the crowd to stop my friends nagging about who it was. i just observed the crowd and picked the most likely to not interact with my sort and said "him, he is so cute!" hoping that my friends wouldn't see through my facade. i didn't want to like anyone just because of their looks but I had quite literally not spoken to the male sort in my entire life (not including men I am related to, I was in all girl private school before I moved to America's public system) to develop an interest in them in a romantic or infatuated way even.

now this is just my introduction to my philosophical essay about whether hurt/ mentally ill people are inherently evil but I must admit that this was started because of other reasons. we might not even get to touch on that either, i tend to ramble and not get to the point effectively.

if you followed me long enough you would know that I was talking to a man I might've called Viking. but we do not talk anymore after I made my feelings clear to him.

i feel many things, most of the time, its anger, the other times, confusion, hurt, rejection..etc. but I do not blame him. mostly because, i am quite annoying as a human being.

one of the things i took to as a way to distract me from the pain, was reading. i read so much that it was impossible to feel anything except the emotions that I was told to through a page. but in between books I would have nights where i wouldnt be able to focus on the words, and I would ponder what was it i did wrong, what was it that made him deem me worthless, not worth responding to. and I would come up blank because my self-preservation wont allow me believe that because I made my intentions clear that I was in the wrong to do so when I feIt that our relationship was taking the wrong turn. if I am allowed to call it a relationship, because quite frankly it was a level below a situationship and a level above a friendship. that I was quite sure of.

as I sit here and write after almost two months of silence from his end and mine, because I refuse to be the one to break it. call it pride, call it stubbornness, I was not the one to ghost the other. i refuse to chase after someone who clearly does not want me. but still can't deny that I lay in bed every night at some godforsaken hours of the night wishing, and hoping that he would just take a step towards me. as I had done to him that one Wednesday afternoon in April.

my point is that my interest in men started out of necessity but it has evolved into a yearning of something that seems quite unattainable. i am not attractive by any means, but I am not of the ugliest sort. i have seen people with more weight with worse features than I with partners who could care less about appearances. which to say that my looks shouldn't be any good reason to ghost me. and while I don't necessarily think that my appearance was the reason for the silence I do struggle with the way l look so my insecurities have found a very good home in the found silence from him. i am working on losing weight out of a bet with friends but also out of bitterness but nevertheless, he is a man and if he wont block me than he must see what he is missing out on.

but again, I used to think I would never be that girl. the one who wanted something but she cant have it. which is quite the diabolical because the entirety of the 11 months we talked I had many panic/ anxiety attacks over how our appearances didn't match, our aesthetics weren't compatible, about how I was too ugly for him or too fat for him. but he seemed the sort that was straightforward and didnt waste other peoples times. i guess i was wrong in the sense that he kept me around because he was bored and disposed of me when it got too serious for his liking. i thought i always had the upperhand, that if things ended i wouldnt be too hurt about it and do what i do best, find the next boy to obsess over.

funny enough, he seemed interested. but i cant know for sure. i mightve made it up in my head.

i have a fear, which shouldnt be a fear but it is. remember how i said that my first crush was out of necessity? well that seems to be the case with me from 7th grade to the end of highschool. which is crazy because you would think with all the men i obsess over that i would find men attractive. i think there is a clear line between celebrities and fiction characters from a real person with undeliberate faults and thing you cant control.

i never thought any of my crushes were ugly, they were good looking but they didnt make me feel attracted to them. it didnt help that i was also the type to watch from a far and not the get close and comfortable.

considering this my first person that i liked and held an 11 months conversation/-ship with i think i did very good but that doesnt change that i read too many romantic book and i had a silver of hope.

a silver of hope that maybe i wasnt weird or shitty for not feeling attracted to anyone in my life. that i finally found someone who literally embodied my dream guy and couldnt have been more perfect. if only he was better at communicating.

he says that he is traumatized from long distance relationships, i now understand that it mightve been his fault. he doesnt communicate. in the 11 months we have known each other i know about a handful of things about him while he had me all figured out. except for one thing. he never got my fear of relationships. since i suspect he ghosted me because he thought i would want one. i guess ghosting me seemed like his best option.

i might not be undesireable but i am not anyone's first choice either. usingmedia to distract me from my emotions literally has become my life. i read about 15 hockey romances the weeks after the ghosting. i was already reading regency era adult romances but i couldnt bring myself to finish them because i had spoken to him about them. this decision i will regret because i talked about everything with him. i mentioned this before. quite literally everything reminds me of him. and its quite sad because i cant evn ssay what we had was special. i decided yesterday that he wasnt worth all of this, and i know he isnt. but i am tired. i just want to be dessired and wanted.

i literally stopped reading a book because the male interest did the same thing that he did to me, essentially to the female protag. i cant even pick up the raunchy adult romance.

i didnt let my self feel the extent of my emotions, only in small slivers of despair, or when i am too tired to pretend that his actions didnt affect me.

he was perfect in all ways but one and i was all faults except for one; my immenient need to communicate.

and no one knows, a friend of mine knows, but they dont know everything, i dont want her to get annoyed with me. i was in her place too many times and i refuse to put her through that. and our mutual friends?

hahahahaha the other night i was speaking with S, and he said that the last time he spoke to him, he mentioned me and Viking said 'oh i havent spoken to her in a while' thats it. no explaination no excuse. i dont even know why that infuriated me. i wasnt even worth an explaination in his eyes. S barely found out via vague summary from me. because even though i was/am hurt. i refuse to tarnish his reputation. 'in a while' ????? you mean two months? but then again S couldnt remember the last time he talked to him. but like still?

forget that we were flirting constantly i thought i was friend at least. i deserve more than this. i think. maybe not then.

i want to scream and shout and hit him and cry about why he didnt want me. but i realize thats self depricating. i should never seek validation from a man, i know but it wouldnt fucking hurt fam.

i have so much to say and yet i feel like its already too much. i should keep quiet. thats what people want from me. for someone who is 'boy crazy' i have not stomached going on a dating app, or boy watching in public because it physically hurts. for gods sake i cant even read fanfiction or just READ because of it. any sight of anything merely romantic makes me want to yell. i am tired and i want to turn everything off. including my stupid rat brain that only seems to be attracted to assholes.

but the same fucking stupid brain cant help but hope that is our enemies to lovers story. one day... god i hope one day...