bitchass-strawberry

[bitchass-strawberry]

When he told me "I'm leaving in your care the most important thing to me, please look after it" when saying goodbye for some time and I realised he meant me

[bitchass-strawberry]

I know that we don't like TikTok in these parts but that "us in another universe" trend has been consuming my life lately

And now that song started playing in the cafe we're hanging out in and I was like man there's no cute animals that represent us but then I realised!! It's US!! Because it's THIS universe now!!!!!!!!

[bitchass-strawberry]

*soft kisses all over your body before I absolutely wreck you*

[bitchass-strawberry]

Spoiler alert it is

Is this love

[bitchass-strawberry]

I bit my tongue and did the "oh no do you think I'm venomous" joke and he looked me dead in the eye and said "babe I'd be dead if you were" and holy fucking shit

[bitchass-strawberry]

He's in the shower singing along with songs in his native language and I've never felt more at home

[bitchass-strawberry]

"don't miss me too much" I say lightheartedly

But god I need you to miss me half as much as miss you the second I board that stupid plane

[bitchass-strawberry]

They use dice as a singular, and plural is dices.

They say remember me instead of remind me. Every single time I'm tempted to respond with something really melodramatic, like I could never forget you, or something of that sort.

I've started to fall in love with their little speech quirks and I think I'm truly unsalvageable at this point.

They pronounce the P in receipt and every time I hear it I have to smile.

The way they say questions like they're statements would drive me up the wall on anyone else but with them it's endearing.

Just the way they say hi based on the context. Makes me feel like fucking Heartstopper.

[bitchass-strawberry]

I've started to fall in love with their little speech quirks and I think I'm truly unsalvageable at this point.

They pronounce the P in receipt and every time I hear it I have to smile.

The way they say questions like they're statements would drive me up the wall on anyone else but with them it's endearing.

Just the way they say hi based on the context. Makes me feel like fucking Heartstopper.

[bitchass-strawberry]

Is this love

[bitchass-strawberry]

There's a narrative that aphobes like to push on us - "how can you know you won't like sex if you've never tried". It's awful, disrespectful and incredibly invalidating. I hate it with burning passion.

But I find myself thinking that maybe it applies to me. I never got the chance to be physical with someone I trusted, someone who'd have been willing to be patient with me and my uncertainty, who wouldn't shame me for not knowing what to do. There's every chance that with the right person, I'll find that I do want it.

I know an orgasm feels good. No stranger to that. I know that sharing it with another person could probably be incredible. Not to mention the emotions involved. But picturing myself actually being THAT intimate with someone is simply terrifying, and maybe I'm struggling to draw the line between sexual identity and just good old anxiety and maybe body image issues.

I'll continue to place myself on the ace spectrum. And if one day maybe I find out the true extent of my apprehension to sex, it'll change. But that's okay.

[bitchass-strawberry]

Here's a secret: I am so, so deeply jealous. So fucking terrified of being replaced and abandoned that I am green with pure envy every time my friends have any kind of good time without me. Even when I'm in bed writhing in pain, all I can think about is that they're hanging out without me. Even at fucking work, when I see on the rota that my closest coworkers are scheduled together I am losing my goddamn mind. I hate the thought of being excluded from anything so much that I would rather give up a day off if it meant I get to be there with them.

I don't act on it. That's why whenever someone asks me if I consider myself to be a jealous person, I say no. Because I keep that horrible insecurity to myself. But I catch myself lying to my dearest friends sometimes, about small, harmless things, just to see what they'll say, just to see how much they care.

[bitchass-strawberry]

Nothing quite tests your anxiety recovery progress like a romance. I know in my heart that this person is kind and understanding and in the event that my feelings aren't reciprocated, they wouldn't make a big deal out of it. I know them well enough to trust them and be vulnerable about my past hurts around them. They've done the same. And yet the years of fearing every single social interaction that could lead to some sort of humiliation or even abandonment if it was to take a turn for the worse paralyse me. Being raised feelings-less and taught that emotions are something that's fictitious and therefore weird doesn't do much to help either.

It always feels like I've gone thousands of miles since being a trembling mess every time I had to speak to someone, and yet I find myself lying awake overthinking every conversation once again. I've come to understand that this is a threshold that needs to be overcome in order to move forward with a relationship, but god dammit is it absolutely terrifying.

[bitchass-strawberry]

It's been over a year since this happened. I now know he wasn't who I made him out to be. To quote a song, I made him perfect cause I wanted him to be.

This isn't to say he was an irredeemable scumbag, nor do I wish him any malice. But I simply wish I'd seen just how much we clashed as people. A valuable lesson was learned from the whole thing I had/didn't have with him. But unfortunately it was a big enough lesson that now that I'm facing new romantic feelings, a whole year later, I am absolutely terrified to deal with them. As much as I hate clichés, he did give me trust issues that I'm not sure how I'll ever get over.

a love that never was

My parents were never very love oriented. Not towards each other, to their families, to me and my sister, to anything. They never showed love. I wouldn't call them cold or unfeeling, just... Not loving. I don't know why, and I'll probably never find out. Without realising, I grew up to be like them. I was known for saying love wasn't real and all that jazz. But then I got the out of the house. And I realised that there is tons of love everywhere. I never had it myself though, in the twenty years of my life.

So imagine the fear in me as I felt myself falling in love. I hated it. Despite having learned the importance of it, somehow I didn't want to see myself loving. I told myself it was just a crush. But as I spent more time around him, I felt myself falling further and further down. Gods, how I despised it. I felt silly, like a schoolgirl that just got her first kiss. Only I wasn't thirteen, and I sure as hell wasn't getting any kisses. But for some reason, I allowed myself to let it happen. And I even believed that this love would work. Even more so when I told him about my feelings. He was so kind about it, telling me that if I didn't live so damn far, we could go out. And I clung onto those words like they were my lifeline. My heart swelled at the very mention of his name. I was so happy, and there was nothing even between us.

Some months have passed and we reunited. And a thing happened between us. A thing so ridiculously romantic that it felt like I opened one of those cheap romance novels on a random page and jumped in. But then the moment passed. And he didn't even mention it. It stung, but it didn't stop my silly teenage girl mind from keeping the hope alive. Then I learned things about him that only fueled that hope.

And then he lied to me. About a stupid little thing, but it angered me like nothing ever before. I guess it wasn't really anger. If anything, I was mad at myself for holding him on such a high pedestal. But the damage was done and I was left with nothing but disappointment and sadness in my heart. It was like a waking call, the bucket of cold water in the face kind. I started realising just how different we were. I could never really be happy with someone like him, no matter how kind he was and how much fun I had with him.

And that realisation hurts like none other. For the past months, I have been kicking myself for being a lovesick fool, and yet now that I see that it would never work, I don't want it to end. What am I without loving him?

I spent ages painting us a beautiful life in my daydreams, filled with love and happiness. Now those dreams are but echoes of a future that never happened. I feel more foolish than I did before. I curse him, but even more I curse myself for having such unrealistic dreams. As a self proclaimed dreamer with a big heart, it fills me with uncertainty. If this dream proved to be futile, what about all the others ones I indulge myself in? How do I know that this love was the only picture that is never gonna become real? Our fictional love has become such an integral part of my future that I can't see any without him.

The heartbreak is somehow even worse when you realise that what you're crying over wasn't real. There wasn't a love that ended painfully. It never even began. What I'm mourning is a lost paradise. A utopia that was quite simply too good to be true. It burns deep within my soul and it makes my very being ache.

[bitchass-strawberry]

My friends have convinced me someone is in love with me and even though I pushed against the idea my brain latched onto it and now I've caught feelings. I haven't felt this anxious about another person in what feels like an eternity.

[bitchass-strawberry]

I love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her

[bitchass-strawberry]

I remember loving you

The hours I spent bragging about you to our friends

The nights I couldn't sleep cause my face hurt from smiling

I remember the endless conversations

About virtually nothing

My heart skipping a beat when you'd say my name

Your incessant teasing

I remember off hand quoting you

And everyone listening suddenly going quiet

Asking "Is that not normal?"

Everybody looked at me with pity in their eyes

I remember the side glances

Trying to figure you out

If your words were meant to cut

Or if they meant nothing at all

I brushed it off

I defended you

Explained you

I remember the string of excuses I made for you, getting more and more desperate

I remember crying at three am, the pillow case soaked

I remember the fights that didn't happen; the silence that left my ears ringing

The pain in my chest when you called me by my old name in passing

I remember getting tired and leaving

And now you're here in front of me

It all comes back

So when you ask me, coldly,

"So what, you hate me now?"

I say, from the bottom of my heart:

I remember loving you.