#this fucked me up it happened back in like 6th grade sometime in 2022

[dostarsfallatall]

“My Bisexual phase was so embarrassing” I came out to someone who I thought was my friend who then proceeded to out me too half our class including telling them the girl I had a crush on long before we were even friends that “friend” was also a lesbian..

Side note: I no longer go to that school and I’m now homeschool for different reasons

[ridleyytheriddler]

im suuuper bored rn and in a mood to write so! rant! yay!

first thing i wanted to rant about - my sexual orientation (:

im ace, period. i know that for a fact. at least I'm somewhere on the spectrum, maybe demisexual? but I'm not sure, I'm not really diving into microlabels.

romantic orientation is an ENTIRELY different story...

had a crush on a boy in 3rd/4th grade, back when (i thought) i was a cishet girl. liked him until like 5th grade when my feelings sort of faded away. now, i was virtual schooled through 5th and 6th so i didn't really like anyone in sixth grade but i spent a lot of time exploring queerness in general- like my nonbinary awakening happened sometime in like January/February of 2022 (though i did first label myself as a demigirl, it still falls under the enby umbrella).

i entered seventh grade as a closeted aroace enby and went through about 3/4 of the year without any major crushes (i had a platonic interest in a boy that i misinterpreted as a crush). i didn't really label my romantic attraction because i didn't need to.

however, as the end of the school year approached, i started feeling uncomfortable. i wanted to know who i was, and the only valid part of my identity had been my asexuality, since i knew that i liked a boy in the past so how could i be aro? i was drowning in a whirlpool of invalidation and not feeling queer enough.

so, i go to the first camp of the year, a writing camp, filled with TONS of queer people. i loved it there, but seeing so many people around me, sure of their identities, made me die more inside.

sooo, a couple days after i was accused of flirting with my friend (who happened to be a boy), i "discovered" i liked a girl. she was pretty, she was smart, she was blonde, she was sporty. i texted her a lot (even after camp was over). i put hearts around her contact name. but "liking" her didn't feel thrilling and it didn't feel happy. to put it simply, it felt like a fucking punishment. talking to her made me feel like i wasn't enough.

so after going through about a month of emotional turmoil and dying inside and bragging to my friends about how i liked a girl, i headed to my first sleepaway camp of the summer, a church camp, ironically enough. and THERE. THERE i fell. not in love, but probably the realest crush i'd had. there weren't really butterflies, so to speak, but if you looked at a picture with the two of us in it, you would see me gazing at her (lets call her M) with literal heart eyes. we'd started quietly chatting while our mutual friends were off doing other stuff, and ended up bonding with each other despite how the only thing we shared was our introverted-ness. and I'm not even that introverted. we're polar opposites. we still text each other almost every day, and i had hopes she liked me back, aaaaaaaaand she doesn't but. here comes part two of my rant.

my crush doesn't like me.

and i don't even feel the tiniest bit sad about it.

this is probably the most confused i've ever been. i know i like her. maybe it's because her "rejection" was so soft it didn't even feel like one. i don't know. it's complicated, but my best friend had been cheering me on to tell her, so i did. and i was honestly divided as to whether she liked me or not- at times she acted like she did but other times she didn't. honestly, i think I'm just hopeful that she likes me

anyway thats not the point-

so. after writing this THERAPUTIC post, i have discovered that:

i am aroace and proud 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

im nonbinary (and proud, but I've known that for a while)

I'm confused

but I'm 100% queer. whether I'm lesbian or straight or bi or something, i am queer! and I'm tired of feeling invalidated by being compared to the people out there who are out and proud with all their labels. i don't need to be exactly like them to be queer and be myself.

to put it poetically, "our friendship is worth more than being in any relationship." I'm going to write a poem about that now. good night yall <3 or even good morning/afternoon.

[ai-soo]

in memory of my oldest friend

Tiffany--

I am sitting here looking at which flowers to send to your funeral. I wish I was instead looking at flowers to send you for your birthday. 

I don’t know what to say. I wish you didn’t do it. I wish you at least said goodbye? I wish You could see, could believe that life was worth living, even with its heartaches. 

I know the hand of cards dealt to you were tough. I know life isn’t fair. But I still had hope you could persevere.

I don’t know what to say. I guess I will just write our memories.

I remember in 3rd grade we became best friends. I don’t remember the details anymore. I bet you would.

In 4th I remember you got a really good score on the math homework, and instead of saying it out loud to the class (because that’s how the teacher took scores), you went up to him to quietly tell him. Humble.

In 5th I remember watching you play basketball at recess, enjoying your time. I remember jump roping together all the time. I remember walking home together, you would sometimes come over but other days you’d have to go help your parents out at the restaurant. I remember frequent sleepover and trips. You were my sister. You are my sister.

In 6th I remember P.E. together. Wearing the P.E. shorts out of class and then getting in trouble for it. I remember being in the same classes. I don’t remember much. Again, you had the better memory.

In 7th grade I moved. I remember our phone calls, catching each other up. I remember missing you. I still miss you.

In 8th grade... In 9th... it was a blur. We fell out of contact. No one was to blame. We were young and life was chaotic.

I sent you an email one day, unsure if you were even going to see it. It was the only way I knew how to contact you anymore. But you responded, and we struck up our old friendship once more.

You said you moved to Las Vegas. I visited you with my family. It was a bit awkward. Sorry about that. But you were still the same. Smart, friendly, polite, and so much more.

Time passes again. We stay in contact via emails and social media, but it’s not as frequent.

The next thing I know, you are in Indiana. I think we were in 11th grade? Or supposed to be. You told me you dropped out of high school. It was too hard. Being in the middle of nowhere, being one of the only Asian Americans. The bullying was intense. The expectations were hard. You dropped out.

You wanted to come stay with my family. I wanted that too. It didn’t work out. So it goes.

You help your brother through school, and your sister. You work with your parents to maintain their restaurant. You sacrifice everything for the people around you. You are so strong.

We continue to communicate. There’s no real pattern to it -- just whenever someone reaches out. 

I think we fell into a more solid pattern my freshmen or sophomore year of college. We send each other gifts and check in. It was a small way of showing our love for each other, knowing we wouldn’t forget each other.

I remember one time I forgot your birthday. I felt so bad. I texted you late, and you thanked me and said you were actually scared I forgot. I did forget. I’m still sorry.

We settle into a relatively stable routine of this. You come to visit me my junior year of college. I wish I took more pictures. It was a time for us to catch up, and have new adventures. We went to San Francisco and explored. 

In college, I wrote a short skit inspired by you. I remember giving it to you to read, and you were thankful that I thought of you. I wish I could’ve done more than just write a skit about such woes.

I am frustrated that all the resources still didn’t help, either. Frustrated that suicide hotlines didn’t help, and became discouraging even. Frustrated that everything I was told to help, didn’t.

-

My mom told me a memory of one time you slept over and she could hear us talking about toast. All the different things we like on toast.

And then I found our old emails and the dumb shit we talked about.

And then I remembered one time we were walking home and a huge truck drove past us and we felt a HUGE gush of warm air. And we just LAUGHED. We laughed for so long. We joked about how that was like a blowdryer and if our hair was wet before, it would’ve been dry. And I personally have never felt such a gust of air from a car ever since then. It’s like life happened to us in a different way, and we could always enjoy it together.

I remember you being a fucking pro at DDR.

I remember us watching the Bratz movie where they had a rock band and we would sing that song and jump on my couches. We would watch movies together. Get into the same interests. 

I remember that time that strange man kept circling my house and you and me, the big sisters, rushed our little siblings into the house.

I remember playing outside around the neighborhood. Going trick or treating together.

I remember both of us writing. You told me recently that you were envious of my writing and my ability to stick to it. But I told you I was envious of you being able to create such fascinating ideas in your writing.

-

I just got off the phone with your friend, Hain.

And your friend Yaku was the one who tracked us all down to deliver the news.

You had such a talent of finding the best friends to support you. 

They both tell me how much you spoke of me, how me reaching out to you via email meant so much to you. I honestly forgot that had happened until they reminded me. Our friendship is so long and sturdy that I thought we never really fell out of contact.

I miss you.

Hain told me you often compared your life to mine. That’s so unfair. I knew you did that when you talked to me, but I didn’t realize how often you spoke about it to others. How were we two sides of the same coin?

You had many things I admire about you. I wish you took time to appreciate yourself, too.

-

Thank you for being there for me.

I wish I could have done more, but also know you would hate it if I felt this way.

You were so strong and brave for holding out for as long as you did. I hope you know that.

I will continue to come back to edit this post with more memories as I hear or remember them. I told you, you’ve always had the better memory. And now, without you hear to remind me, I will have to do my best to remember them myself.

-

Edit:

10/8/2020

I FaceTimed your friends. They are as kind as you. I can tell you attract people just like you. I miss you, we all miss you so much.

As I wrote the date, I realized how surreal it is that it’s 2020. The first week? It’s been a week. Your funeral was today. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I wish I could go without risking people’s health. I know you would’ve understood, but that doesn’t make me feel less bad.

I mourn for your loss. I wish you could be around to see 2021, 2022, and beyond. I wish we could’ve celebrated your 24th birthday together. I wish you were still here. I miss you.

-

Edit:

10/29/2020

It still feels surreal. Like how can you really be gone?

I just wanted to update because 1. I still think of you quite often, and 2. I remembered another memory. I remember play class games with you, like heads up seven up, and always choosing you. I remember in middle school, you coming over so we could do a project together but I told you the wrong instructions because I misinterpreted the instructions, so we both messed up in the same way. I’m sorry about that. I wonder if you even remembered. Probably.

I miss you.