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[smurfetteskater]

She came and asked if I was alright.

I shrugged.

She asked about my bowl and took it to the sink.

Why ask?

I’m a bitch?

No……………..

I’m just over it.

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Slept alone in the roof.

Didn’t get checked on.

I know it’s my fault, with my walls, being hard to penetrate.

That’s why I have the Ashlesha-esq unsafe (while safe) kink… I want someone to force their way in so bad— I’m deranged wanting to be… anyway—

I hate sleeping between them.

I almost said I hated them both, I was so upset, so angry.

First I ask him to come take her to the market, then I schedule a movie night with them, just to not feel good halfway through cleaning my tub before I shower.

She finished it for me. I fell asleep. I wake up to them joining me in bed. I’m in the middle. I wanted to be, to be loved harder. I felt like I needed it.

I wake up the way I seem to always wake up when I’m in the middle, I wake up to them touching corner discreetly over my sleeping body.

They nearly fucked over me the other day.

I would be excited, but it’s triggering as someone who’s been left out of so much in life. Last invited stings when it’s a threesome and it’s just open invitation— hence, no invite, no intimacy, no bridge. Just a moment I’m walking into. It’s violating almost, but in an unfamiliar way.

I just keep getting out of their way.

And they take their time.

Last night I woke up, went to take that shower, blasted music, it was 4am.. but I needed to decompress— and I knew I had nothing to worry about. Because I listened to slowed slow jams— and I had no doubt they were up.

The lack of a complaint about the music at any point tells me I was right. They both came to pee and never mentioned it.

It’s not just the sex, it’s that I need them, and they just wanted each other. Inanimate when I’m there, intimate when I leave, and I leave because they’re so intimate when I’m there, but not with me.

Third wheeling your way into a threesome—

Being the one they work to include.

Not that it’ll never need to happen, but the working part…

When I leave I’m not found.

When I left after my shower, I wasn’t searched for.

I slept on the roof.

When I returned— I wasn’t talked to about it.

When he left I wasn’t talked to about it.

And the thing about that is— I hate negative surprises. I’ve asked to tell me when he’s leaving ahead of time many times.

I’ve openly complained about him only telling her what he’s doing.

I told him before he even came over that I felt cold, my mind needed rest, I was horny, I came on my fingers thinking about how much better he made me feel after they spent all night together and I got woken up to an hour with his sleeping body and wanted 5 minutes + and I felt like there was always something ruining my time with but she gets time with headache.

This while transitioning of our relationship has been a darker night of the soul for me every time. I take all the leaps. I do all the illegal moves and the time before it’s regulated. She only has to be hurt and then be happy.

I have to be a villain, a foreigner to my needs, confused, hurt, blasted in self esteem, the full 8th house experience to get to the happiness. & I made that date because I’m tired, I just wanted care and the mental rest he described to me that almost made me cry.

Just for him seeing me, I almost cried and I played with myself so turned on till I came and sent him a clip.

Just decide he could see I needed a mental rest. Then he said he deserved to be punished for letting me need to touch myself.

…….. then he came over and played with chi and failed me when I was in a tough place and left for the night, then didn’t tell me he was leaving until he was dressed and walking out of the door. Miss last to spend time. Last to know. Last to cum. Last to just get the simple full on cuddles I wanted nothing more than to have.

Then I resent her a bit— for also not seeing me. Not trying. Not unlocking from entertaining him, the same way he can’t shake entertaining her to remember me, and give me full undivided attention. It’s unequal when I’m getting a 1on1 around her, but fair game to 1on1 on. My. Sleeping. Body.

So much potential, I just burst into rage and felt like I hated them earlier, for getting my encrusted best friends, and for making me feel so lonely.

I left because I wanted a place I felt comfortable. & our bed wasn’t it when it was so thoroughly in use.

I resent her a little bit because— well she wasn’t a great at sharing before this. & with this man, who she’s falling for, I’m an afterthought, and the effort is still too low.

When he left I just broke down, she brought me tissue but I had in headphones. She tried to remove them, and so I removed them. She may have been surprised but 4-5 seconds passed with no words. I put the headphones back on— and she was done to be out of the room.

This effort.

It pissed me off so much I just screamed into my cry twice. Unable to help it.

This cold to lukewarm effort, the ignoring or not seeing me as a person with wants too, not checking on me, not factoring in anything I said these Karisma two hard days— and that letter complaining about my passion for him being higher. Ironic. Which I said.

It all had me on edge, in a really really sad place.

However, I flashed back to our first time as a triad. Our first threesomes at the cabin. & that third night that chi tried to delete from existence. The night where nobody remembers me being fully dressed laying beside them while they had sex. Like I was in a bad Fucking dream. I only got there because I was so over the threesome after hours of not getting penetrate and being everyone’s mouth and throat toy for the evening.

So much potential, I feel aroused like my tears are restocking. This is where I felt I hated them.

And couldn’t fight the screaming.

I put the sock in it as best I could and I sobbed and sobbed. Trying not to scream anymore. Visualizing punching something. I threw my spliff hard, but naturally it didn’t make a boom of any kind. I threw the toilet paper chi brought me, as this happened soon after she left with her non-verbals or slow answers I can hate.

And nothing was enough.

My two best friends were the ones involved, so I couldn’t imagine talking to them.

I could, but after being failed when I wanted cuddles or sex or half of him in bed as I slept, or to be checked on after disappearing from the apartment at 4am- 10am— and not being told he was leaving until the last moment— why would I want to talk to them?

For a while I didn’t wanna talk at all. Nor write.

I barely want to now. It’s flaring my tears and for what purpose. It’s 6:16pm. It feels like the longest day ever, and I just don’t feel hope.

I laid in the bed getting worse and worse. Wanting to scream, wanting to break something, sobbing non-stop, and started considering things.

Neither of them are attentive or energetically sensitive enough to handle these types of things in the future, and this could likely just get worse, and I wanted to make the pain stop. Or at least— to physically drown in it since I couldn’t handle what was happening to me emotionally anymore.

So I wanted to go to get a drink.

And then I wanted to hurt myself, and I went with hurting myself.

I want to say unfortunately, and it is unfortunate, but It was just a few hours ago.

I know why I did it…

I’m alone. I’m in pain nobody understands. Pain oof have to fight to have understood. Which is more painful. Pain that I would like to talk to a friend about, but I don’t have the friend part, and I don’t want to go be understood and heard as much as I want it to just stop. I just want what was meant to be easy to be easy when it actually happens.

I didn’t want a fuller head. I would have even been cool with just head, but he came and told me he’d help me rest my mind.

Disappointment is really hard for me.

No negative surprises.

I wanted to be considerate of them- by not hurting them by letting them discover I hurt myself, or telling them— but… then it dawned on me that I was invisible in all the places I wanted them to see me, and figured they wouldn’t notice.

Then I figured— they would feel like I closed them off, like it’s my fault in ways, and wouldn’t understand, and nobody does, and I was alone with my pain all night, and ever since they denied what happened at the cabin, pretending they didn’t notice I was uninvolved— let alone fully dressed…

Unbelievable.

The amount of disappointment was too much, too stunning, too consecutive, too complex yet simple, and I was too tired. I am too tired.

I don’t know what to do besides stay frozen and ruin this entirely. Or open up, be overly complex, help myself to stray further from them with my disorder and sensitivity they’re bound to fail to embrace, see, understand and logically and emotionally connect with the way I need… thus being the heavy difficult control group, making their sex lines even hotter because it’s the peace from the complications and what they need so badly in this nightmare in my head and probably bed.

It’s been a hard hard day.

I haven’t felt this genuinely depressed in a while.

I don’t know if I ended that point fully before but, I don’t feel as bad and compassionate for their experience dating a cutter this time.

I don’t care for them to know, I just don’t know what they expect from me. In that state. Being so disappointed already. Feeling alienated. Having nobody. They don’t get it. So why do I have to keep feeling worse than I did when I did that to myself?

So that I stop?

Guilt doesn’t cure a cutter, happiness on the other hand— now there’s an argument.

August 31, 1934 Virginia Woolf, “A Writer’s Diary” (1918 - 1941) originally published: 1933

[smurfetteskater]

August 31, 1934 Virginia Woolf, “A Writer’s Diary” (1918 - 1941) originally published: 1933

[smurfetteskater]

Like sukuna, but more drid, more sadboy.

sukuna nation, how you feelin'?

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can someone please be proud of me like fuck I’m trying

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leonie stolberg

[smurfetteskater]

So lonely—

the only time I feel lonely really— is when I’m misunderstood… better yet— unseen/unheard.

And I feel so lonely.

The loneliest is when you are so drained you remove the opportunity to be heard/misunderstood, because they have failed so many times already that you just give up.

The loneliest is when you give up on being found.

💔

It’s like you’re missing and screaming.

“Lovely bones” lonely.

1:45am- haven’t started working. 7/24/24

[smurfetteskater]

stop shrinking to fit in places you’ve outgrown

[smurfetteskater]

i hope all my girls out here r safe n being loved