wordsofanemo

[wordsofanemo]

10/06/19

I wouldn’t have done this if I knew this would happen. I knew it was a possibility but I didn’t think it would happen. I thought we finally got to a good place where the connection was strong enough to be above all of this. I should have know better. I know him well enough to where I should have expected this.

I’m losing everyone. I’m so alone. Again. Once again reminded that I need to focus on me. I need to be my own best friend and work on making myself happy and doing things that make me feel good about me. That can be helping others, for sure. Just not with the expectation of anyone understanding that my help is my love. Or realizing how much I care about them because of those actions.

I need to give him space and not take anything personal. I can’t read anyone’s mind so I can’t be assuming that their behavior has anything to with me. How many times will I learn this lesson??

[wordsofanemo]

10/05/19

I don’t think I’m down for the hookup game anymore.

I kept getting this feeling that maybe I’m ready for a relationship but I thought it was a result of the mental regression brought on by the immense amount of stress I’ve been under as of late.

But tonight changed that assumption for me. At least in my current inebriated state.

I met up with someone who I’ve always been on the fence with. I kept trying to remind myself that it was casual with him but I was on the verge of catching feelings. There was a lot about him that I felt was a perfect fit for me and exactly what I needed.

Then there was tonight. I didn’t realize until I saw him that I held a bit of resentment for him blowing me off for the past several weeks. Which is wrong of me, considering that this was a casual thing. I recognized it was my own feelings and nothing to do with him and decided to just enjoy my night.

Sure enough we have a great time and, as always, the sex was incredibly intimate. Everything about the night was intimate. That’s how it goes with him. Another reason why I felt like I might be catching feelings. Other guys don’t take the time to be intimate. It’s not part of the casual thing. So I guess when it’s so different a part of me thinks, or maybe hopes, that it’s different because it’s him and it’s me.

But tonight I had all of this in my head and I thought, of after tonight I feel the same way, I’m going to finally say something to him and somehow let him know that I have feelings or I can’t see him anymore because I might be catching feelings or something along those lines.

And I was finally read for it. I was scared to do it for so long and now I was ready. And then the end of the night came. And as amazing as the intimacy was, I realized that I didn’t feel good being intimate with him anymore. Not that it didn’t feel great. It absolutely did. But there’s a different feeling when you’re giving affection of any sort to someone you care about. And I didn’t feel that tonight.

It just felt like we were using each other. And to some extent that’s true. But there’s always been this layer in this relationship that we cared about each other and were actually friends to some degree.

I no longer think that’s true. I think I felt more than friends. And he didn’t. Maybe the whole thing is a ploy to get into bed with girls (I don’t think this is the case). Or maybe he treats this as you do your relationship with acquaintances, where you talk to them and behave with them as if you were close friends just to keep things from being uncomfortabl but you both know that you wouldn’t actually call on each in a time of need. I think that’s what he’s going. I don’t think there’s any negative intentions behind any of it. Yet, it still bothered me.

So I concluded that maybe I’m just not down for this anymore. The whole point of hooking up is to use each other and have fun together. I’m over that. I want something deeper and meaningful. I want someone I can be truly close to and share my everything with and enjoy bringing them joy. I think I’m finally fucking ready.

[wordsofanemo]

9/24/19

People seem to have this idea that having sex can you bring you confidence because you are desired by someone. That the fact that they want you body should help you to feel attractive.

I don’t like that idea. For one, isn’t the point of self-confidence to find the confidence within yourself? Not in the perception others have of you. Not caring what people think should go both ways, right? Whether they think positively or negatively of you. I’m not sure that I fully believe that. I mean, everyone needs praise and recognition. But praise and recognition only seem to be effective if you can agree with what others are saying about you. At least for me.

I don’t find confidence in people desiring me. I think if you’re hooking up with people the goal is just to find help in fulfilling your desires. How you feel about the other person doesn’t always matter. Being attracted to them certainly helps. But it’s not often meaningful.

I find confidence in being able to please the other person. I suppose that goes along with my finding happiness and fulfillment in helping others. Something that I am doing is bringing that person pleasure. That gives me confidence. Not what they think of me, but the impact that my actions have on them.

I’m not sure if that’s any different. I haven’t taken the time to think it through. Just a thought I had recently when I realized that my confidence does increase highly when I’m having great sexual interactions with people.

[wordsofanemo]

9/16/19

Fucking on a rooftop - ✅

[wordsofanemo]

07/16/19

I hate that all of my best dreams include you. I mean, I love it. I feel so comforted by your presence. But I know that it’s wrong, so I’m conflicted.

Last night I dreamt that we were at some sort of performance as a team. It must have been some sort of acapella or choir competition because groups of people were taking turns going on to these risers on a stage in front of a massive audience. I don’t remember the singing or even seeing the audience. It was just implied.

While we waited for our turn to go on the stage, or maybe it was after our performance, I’m not sure, we were in a room behind the stage waiting. I sat next to you and I felt sad so I laid my head on your shoulder and put my hand on your knee and you wrapped your arm around me and held me. I thought for a second that other people will see so we should probably stop because we could get in trouble or rumors would start but you held me anyway so I let it happen. It was so incredibly comforting.

Then random side note. At one point you mentioned that your guinea pig died and it made me cry... so random.

[wordsofanemo]

7/05/19

I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, I have this annoying and unsurpressable need to express every thought, feeling, and realization that I have. I typically convey these to other people but I recently realized that maybe nobody wants to hear that shit. Especially those that haven’t responded to your texts in weeks... better late than never I guess.

I keep going back to everything that happened with D. I couldn’t relate to his need to be alone and “recharge”. I’m usually such a social person. I hate being alone, mostly because I hate myself. I don’t want to hang out with me. So being around people brought me relief, not being alone.

As is evident by the use of the past tense up there, things have been different lately. I find it really hard to be around people. But I also don’t want to be alone. I mostly just get annoyed by most of the people in my life. There a few people that I can think of wanting to spend time with but most of them don’t want to spend time with me. Maybe they would if I asked but I hate needing to ask. I hate having to tell them that I “need” them in order for them to want to hang out with me. Not even want, but just be willing to.

So I’ve been spending a lot of time alone. And asking for alone time from people. But I don’t want to be alone. I’m more depressed when I’m alone. Unless I’m numbing my brain with TV or weed. But even then, there’s always thoughts of self hatred.

Sometimes I’m scared of being alone. I worry what I’ll do to myself. And I’m scared of simply thinking about what I might do to myself. And I want so badly to reach out and tell someone what I’m going through so that they’ll hang out with me. But that feels like such an imposition. As much as I may need it, I don’t want to impose.

And I makes me question, if I were so depressed- to the point of suicide- would I reach out? Would I ask for help?

I always assumed that I would but I haven’t lately and I’d say I’m in need of help. So maybe I wouldn’t... and that’s even more terrifying.

So here I am. Alone. Drinks and a movie. Writing this. Hating myself. Wanting to be with someone. Hating that I can’t handle being alone. But wanting so badly to feel safe and comforted and loved. And having no one to turn to.

What a fucking lonely life.

[wordsofanemo]

5/15/19 - unfinished

Dear future husband,

I hope that you’ll be:

- patient; I am a lot to handle. And I still have growing to do.

- accepting; of all that I am and all that I am not.

- loving; me as I am. physically, mentally, and emotionally.

- curious; to get to know me at the level that I would like to know you.

- intelligent; enough to understand who I am and not make inaccurate assumptions.

- trusting; recognize that I always have the best of intentions, despite the result.

- challenging; bold enough to call me on my shit and remind me to stay hungry.

- honest; you can trust me and tell me everything.

And I will be:

- patient;

[wordsofanemo]

06/20/19

I’ve spent the last few days feeling empty. Sometimes angry. Sometimes to the point of tears. But mostly empty.

I’ve done everything I can to just get through the work day. Somehow, seemingly out of instinct, I’m able to behave as if nothing is wrong. I smile and laugh and talk to my coworkers, even though I don’t feel like doing any of those things. It just happens. And I hate it. It’s probably for the best, but it’s so dishonest.

I’ve spent the nights laying in bed, trying to convince myself that pain won’t help. Trying to keep the visualization of self-harm out of my mind. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I can’t help but imagine what it would look like or feel like to stab a pen into my wrist and drag it up to the crease of my elbow... is that even possible? Or to logically think through where the best place would be to take a razor to my skin where it wouldn’t be noticed by family or coworkers or fuck buddies. I haven’t figured that one out yet. I’ve decided it’d have to be a place where I could blame it on a shaving mishap.

I also haven’t figured out if I could actually go through with any of it. I’m doing what I can to not test that.

I’ve decided the Zoloft isn’t working and I’ll go back to Lexapro tomorrow. Hopefully it works quickly. If not, hopefully I find the will to ask for help if things get even more dire.

[wordsofanemo]

6/4/19

I don’t want to do this. It feels like I am two people right now. I feel nothing. But I hate that I feel nothing. I don’t care about anything or anyone. It’s the opposite of my actual self. And there’s someone buried deep underneath all of that trying to remind me that I do care. I felt it reaching and grasping for control of mind. And then I felt it take over for a second. I started crying. But I couldn’t for very long. It feels like there’s two forces fighting within me. One that doesn’t want to give a fuck and doesn’t want to be writing this and doesn’t want to go to work or do anything but sit here and do nothing. Not even sleep seems to satisfy. Then the other that’s trying to keep me going and trying to tell me that writing this will help and that I have to go to work because I don’t have a lot of PTO left and all of that daily monotonous bullshit. It’s crazy how easy it is to lie and fake through it. I’m sitting there telling my doctor that I feel nothing while smiling and laughing. I’m being nice and warm with the staff when I feel dead inside. The moment that door closed behind me, it disappeared in an instant. All of the warmth and niceties. I hate lying and being fake but it’s instinctual. Something I have to do to not lose everyone and everything. I wish I could tell them how I feel and explain that I need space but even that is not socially acceptable. I know that I am sorry but I don’t feel sorry. I know that I care but I don’t feel caring toward anybody. I know that I love but I don’t feel love. I feel nothing. What does that make me? This is ridiculous.

[wordsofanemo]

Just because I’m open about my sexuality, that doesn’t mean I want to fuck you, or send nudes, or sext you.

.

My being open about my sexuality doesn’t give you the right to objectify me or to tell me that your dick is hard thinking about me or to make every conversation about sex.

.

I’m more than just sex.

.

I am a human being. With layers and thoughts and emotions.

.

I enjoy talking about psychology and philosophy and my passions in life.

.

I enjoy hangouts that include drinking and playing games and listening/singing along to music and walks on the beach and cooking/baking together and aren’t expected to end in a crazy fuck session.

.

I may fuck around but I am still more than my sexuality.

[wordsofanemo]

5/26/19

The curve of your nose

The color of your skin

The shape of your hair

-

The pain in your eyes

The joy in your smile

The hesitation in your laugh

-

You guard yourself from me

As I do to you

For fear of being misconstrued

-

You share in the afterglow

And only then

Perhaps unknowingly

Sharing more than you intend

-

These moments of promise

Quickly diminished

By further conversation

Serving as a reminder

-

I can’t stand this

[wordsofanemo]

When I’m with you, I don’t think of anyone else.

When I’m with anyone else, I can’t stop thinking about you.

This is not good.

I’ve convinced myself you’re what I need.

Doubts arising as quickly as devotion.

[wordsofanemo]

5/23/19

I’ve been receiving some compliments from my family lately- I don’t know if it’s the meds making me a better person or just more receptive to them so I actually notice. Either way, I have certainly felt more encouraged by their words than I used to be.

Today I was complaining to my brother and dad about how everything is always my fault. I get blamed for everything, even when it has nothing to do with me. And even though I know (sometimes) it’s in a “joking” way, I find it frustrating. And my brother says “it’s your fault that I’m happy sometimes at the house.” Now, my brother is not the kind of guy that is open in this way. He doesn’t talk about anyone but himself. So it’s a BIG deal for him to say this. I thanked him and he admitted that he had a full dose of CBD today so he was a bit more open :P I am still grateful.

Later my dad was talking about work and mentioned a girl that reminded him of me because she’s really smart. I said “aw” but he kept telling his story. It’s nice after all of these years to finally start hearing what it is that my dad thinks of me.

I guess that could be why I’m always so interested in what people think of me. I’ve never had my parents tell me how they saw me. I should probably be able to look myself in the mirror and decide for myself rather than rely on others but I feel lost relying on me. I’m not there yet.

Awhile ago I also had my mom tell my that I’m smart. I didn’t write about it because I was too depressed to process it properly. But she said I was smart for being able to figure out my job having no experience. And the way I am able to understand and explain emotion and other’s thought processes impresses her. I wanted to cry in that moment, too, but I couldn’t feel that in that moment. Again, I’m still grateful.

These meds have certainly taken me back to my old self. I was always very family oriented and I find myself being that more and more. I’ve found many reasons to not like my family but I still love them tremendously and even more so now. We are finally connecting as a family, not just living as one. It’s such a special feeling to see that evolution. I don’t know that anyone else notices it. I choose not to mention it for fear of ruining it. It’s a really great thing.

[wordsofanemo]

5/13/19

It would be great to find someone whose desire was to please me. To give me whatever I wanted/needed.

I wonder if that would work. Would it work to have two people together that only wanted to please each other? I’m sure it would have its problems- I can think of a few. But I wonder if it’d be possible to make it work.

I’m tired of giving myself up to please others. I’ve said this before. It’s been a lifelong habit. I’ve definitely made progress but it’s so easy to slip back into it. Not sure what it is about me that makes it so.

In this moment, I’m tired of giving up my needs to please others. Usually it’s my nature to be that way and I have plenty of patience for it.

But I’ve grown impatient.

[wordsofanemo]

5/3/19

He said yes to me coming over. I didn’t expect that. I don’t often have friends there for me when I need them.

The whole ride over I was trying to figure out how to say it. I knew it would be hard. It’s been 7 years and I’ve never really talked about it. But he was so welcoming. He was there for me. I asked him about his day and he answered but immediately put the attention on me. Made me feel like he actually cared and wanted to be there for me. He was immediately affectionate and open to listen. He was grateful that I could lean on him and I trusted him to be there for me.

I told him I didn’t know what to say. That I couldn’t get the words out. That I might get emotional. That I would be making eye contact because it’s so difficult for me to talk about. But he was okay. He reassured me that I couldn’t scare him away.

So I got it out. I told him what happened. Mostly. I didn’t go into detail. That was too hard. But I told him everything about how I felt. And he told me that he was sorry I went through it. That I was put into that situation and had to deal with that.

I told him how I struggled because I’ve been told it was my fault. Or it wasn’t really a harassment incident because I liked the guy. But he understood. He put it into words for me - it was uncomfortable and the trust was not there for both parties. He reassured me that it was not okay that it happened.

I told him that I didn’t feel right because I know others have suffered so much more than I have. I mean, it’s not like I was attacked. But he reminded me that the suffering of the world doesn’t minimize my suffering. It doesn’t mean I can’t feel pain. I have every right to feel what I’m feeling.

I told him how it just felt wrong that this guy was getting married. It didn’t seem fair that he was never affected by it. And he asked questions - am I sure that the guy wasn’t affected?, things like that. I was hurting and he wasn’t afraid to ask the hard questions. That really showed me that he cared.

He tried to reassure me that just because he was getting married didn’t mean he would be happy. And I explained that it didn’t matter. Those thoughts aren’t reassuring to me. And he understood.

He asked what I wanted to do. If I wanted to contact the guy. I said no. I knew it wouldn’t help me. But that’s how I process this stuff. By talking to the person about it. And he told me that I was going to have to figure out how to let it go without closure... I felt so defeated. I didn’t think I was capable of that.

I buried my head in his chest. Wanting so badly to just cry. I told him that. He asked if that’s what I actually wanted. I said yes but I didn’t think I could. Because for 7 years I have been repressing it. And every time the feelings crept up in my throat, I instinctively pushed it back down. And I just wanted to let it out so that I could let it go. But I couldn’t. It was coming out. So I just let him hold me.

I told him that I tell people and I pride myself in that I will say no if I’m not comfortable or don’t want to do something with someone. And it’s great that I can feel empowered to do that as a woman. But it sucks that a lot of it is stemmed from my experience with this guy. Because I didn’t say no to him and it’s haunted me ever since. He told me that it’s not true. He looked me in the eyes and told me that he knows that I am a strong person without having to had suffered through this. I told him I don’t see myself that way. But it meant a lot to hear it. I should have said that.

As I laid there holding him and him holding me he started talking. Saying how much it sucked that I went through that. That it really isn’t fair that the world is like this but it is full of people that are hurt and choose to take it out on others.

I didn’t hear what else he said because that did it. That hit me. I got up. I couldn’t speak. My brain was trying so hard to process that thought. This guy hurt me because he was hurt. It wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t my fault. I say that to other people all of the time but it didn’t mean anything to me in this situation. B said it’s so true. It’s not my fault. It meant so much to hear him say that. I couldn’t believe it. Instead of feeling hurt and pain I felt sorry for this guy. I remember that he never told me much but I know that kind of personality. People like that are compensating for something. They have something in their past that haunts them and they don’t know how to cope with it and they don’t know how to empathize or think of other people.

It was so clear now. All of my negative emotions were gone in that moment. I felt so unbelievably relieved. I couldn’t believe it. I hugged him. I hugged him so tight. I couldn’t speak but I got it out as I could. I just kept screaming in pure relief. And holding him tight. Saying thank you thank you thank you. And kissing him thank you. I owe him the world.

After all of this time I finally opened up about this traumatic experience and he said and did all of the right things and actually made me feel better. I was so shocked. I didn’t expect any of this.

And just to add to how fucking incredible he is, he stopped me for a second to remind me that it’s going to be a long journey still. It will still hurt and I will have to remind myself of this conversation. Fuck. And he was so humble the entire time. He didn’t know what to say when I kept just hugging him and thanking him.

And to top it all off, we had an amazing fuck sesh. The conversation we just had didn’t affect us at all. If anything, it felt more connected than ever.

It was an emotional and intimate night. Completely unexpected. I’m so immensely grateful for him.

Now I just have to find a way to tell or show him... :)

[wordsofanemo]

5/2/19

He got married... and it really bothers me. But why?

I shouldn’t care about him. About anything to do with him. Yet it was an emotional discovery.

I don’t know why.

I want to say it’s because of what he did. That a part of me wants to believe that someone who would commit such a heinous act and impact someone’s life for years to come in such a negative way doesn’t deserve happiness. Doesn’t deserve to be loved.

But I don’t think that’s it. I know that’s not how life works. I know that everyone fucks up and is able to pick up the pieces and move on. And, in this case, he didn’t even recognize that he fucked up. The thing that has haunted me and will forever be a part of me meant absolutely nothing to him. He has no idea it happened. Even if he did, I don’t think he’d care.

And that sucks. But that’s not why this bothers me. That’s what bothers me every time I think of him. It’s nothing new.

This is new. He’s married. It hurts me to know that. And I think it’s for purely selfish reasons. I think I’m upset that he found his happiness before me. He is starting a new life and a new journey - the beginning of the rest of his life, as they say. And I’m still here, struggling to survive. Living my life day-by-day because I can’t handle anything more than that. Still trying to figure out how to be better and to do more and to be stable enough to start any journey.

He did something terrible. He doesn’t deserve to start that journey before me. He doesn’t deserve to have no impact from it. He doesn’t deserve to not have this thing haunting him and his relationships for the rest of his life. HE hurt ME and I am the one dealing with all of that. It’s not fair.

I’m not someone to live with a comparative mindset. I recognize it’s a negative way to live. That mentality will only lead to disappointment. And it just doesn’t seem to be in my nature to think that way.

But this. This hurts. This angers me. I want to cry and scream and hit and give in to this pain. I want to even the score and tell him what he did. Do whatever I have to to make him feel the pain that I felt. That I feel. To scar him the way he did me. To not let him get away with it.

But I can’t. I can’t make it fair. I can’t even give into the pain. I can’t even feel the emotions. I will just continue to repress them and let them haunt me. Let him be a part of my life for so much longer than he needs to be.

I don’t want to do that. But I don’t know what else I can do.

[wordsofanemo]

4/26/19

There’s an idea out there that depression and anxiety stem from loneliness. From a lack of being accepted. That our ancestors evolved to live in tribes and when one was not in a tribe, they had reason to feel depressed and anxious because they were in danger of hunger and even death. So, now, when we don’t belong to a tribe, we still respond with depression and anxiety. 

For a while now I’ve said that I don’t feel like I belong. It’s unbelievably rare that I feel accepted by anybody. In fact, there are really only two people in my life that I ever felt truly accepted by. Most of the time, I feel like people are just putting up with me. For what reason, I don’t know. Maybe to be polite. Maybe to get something from me. Maybe the annoyance of putting up with me is worth whatever I provide them. I don’t know. What I do know is that I go to work everyday and I sit in the corner and I feel alone. I hear everyone around me getting along and poking fun at each other and being friends and when they come to me, they’re different. They have to be. I’m the rule enforcer. And I’m just not a part of their tribe.

Then I come home and I get along well with my family. And I can laugh and have fun with them - I can do that at work too. But it’s not like I belong. There’s a lot that I have to filter and hide because they can’t relate or understand and choose to judge me for. I feel alone even with them.

I never really fit in with my family. I grew up with 8 siblings and I never fit in with any of them. We got along. We had fun. But I was always different. I was more mature. I did well in school. I followed the rules.

It makes sense that I’m depressed, if this theory is true. I never fit in or belonged. I wouldn’t call me special. Just different.

So when someone came along that accepted everything about me, especially the stuff about me that I hated, I quickly fell in love. I thought it was love. And I did love him. But it started because I was finally accepted. I finally belonged to someone.

And it happened again recently. I wasn’t even interested in D. I was certain that we were only meeting to hook up. I mean, we met at a hotel and skipped dinner to get straight to fucking. It was fun, I enjoyed it. I thought he was just looking to get laid and I was okay with that. I wasn’t at first. We had talked for awhile and I was really enjoying the conversation. I met someone that was very similar to me in an emotional sense. Then we stopped talking and when the conversation started up again it led to sex. I was disappointed. I thought maybe finally something serious could happen. But I came to terms with it. I didn’t need anything serious. And if he just wanted sex, then he wasn’t worth the effort to be serious with anyway, right?

So we fucked. And it was great. Really fun...

Then we’re laying there and he’s calling me beautiful. And he’s staring at me. Do you know how long it had been since someone liked at me like that?! It was intoxicating. Immediately, it was all the same words and gestures and feeling as my first love. He accepted me completely. He liked everything about me. And the more we got to know each other and the more he learned about me, he wasn’t scared off. He was still there. I felt like I belonged to someone again. It was incredible. It brought me such pure joy to be fully accepted again. 

And I liked him to. In fact, I loved him. I mean, I think that’s what this feeling is. I saw his flaws. I saw his strengths. I liked it all. I enjoyed every second with him. I knew he wasn’t right for me. I knew we would never work. That it wouldn’t last. But I still had these deep and intense feelings for him. These same feeling that I had with M. These feelings that I called love. Even now, I still miss D. I think about him everyday. I want to talk to him and know what he’s doing and see him smile and make him laugh and hear him sing and be silly. 

Were these feelings really love? Or was it just the excitement and intoxication of being accepted. Really, the happiness of being accepted, right? I didn’t have to be depressed anymore. I was a part of a tribe, even if a tribe of 1. Isn’t that still love? To be a part of a tribe, where you are alike, and you get a long, and you care for each other and support each other. Isn’t that love?

Then there’s B. i don't have the feelings that I did with M and D. But I look at him and I see someone that I think I need in my life. Someone that could bring me stability and ground me. Someone that I care about and love to be around and also love everything about him. He’s funny and so smart and charming and strong and independent and has some walls up. I want to know more. I want to understand him at a deeper level. But the same feelings aren’t there. I do feel accepted but not in the same way. I feel like I can be myself with him and not have to worry about being judged. But I don’t feel like he’s in love with those things that make me different. M and D were like me - they fall in love with a person’s uniqueness. B is not that way. He accepts and enjoys it, not so far as to be in love.The feelings with him are different. They’re less extreme. I don’t know much about him and really haven’t spent much time with him but it’s easy to be with him. Seems like we kind of fit. Not always. Like I said, we really don’t know each other that well. But there’s something comfortable there.  Is that what love is? Or is it the love that you have for a friend?

Then there’s R... I don’t really understand my feelings for him. I know some of those feelings are really just tied to a very intense infatuation with him. I get butterflies whenever I’m around him. I love having long conversations where I can listen to his thoughts and get to know more about him while also being able to watch him. To notice the details - his face, his eyes, his hands, his gestures, the way his mouth moves when he speaks... Sometimes the desires are very strong. I try to focus on our conversation but all I can do it imagine what it would be like to pounce... Usually, though, there’s is just so much care. I care deeply about him. I don’t know if it’s because I feel like I’ve earned it, in a way. I’ve worked hard and spent a lot of time breaking down his walls and getting him to open up to me and trust me. Maybe that gives the whole thing more value. I don’t know. All I know is that I care so much about him. I want to know more and spend more time with him and be there for him in everything. That’s just not how he is. I know that I can’t rely on him in any capacity. Well, except when I need an honest opinion. He will ways tell me what I need to do to improve. And I learned that he knows he can get the same from me. That felt so special. It meant so much to me to know that he felt that way. These feelings are not so much intense as they are meaningful. There’s more value to this relationship. Value doesn't feel like the right word, though. It’s not that I’m getting anything from it, really. I don’t even necessary feel accepted by him. It’s not really a question of that with him. But every single second I’m around him means so much to me. Are these feelings what love is? This concept of building a relationship over time and working on it to build trust and confidence in each other. Supporting each other and helping each other grow. Is that what love is?

How this went from depression and being accepted to love I don’t really know. I guess that’s what most of my writings are about anyway...

I do hope to find my tribe one day. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. How that’s going to happen? I have no idea.