#and because I didn’t want to learn to draw Gungans lmao

[askbensolo]

Hoooooo boy.

Dang I'm real sorry you had to go through that Ben, that sucks all over.

I have to say though, I think you maybe dodged a blaster bolt here.

A relationship ought to be made up of people with good communication and similar values and expectations, and if those arn't there, there really isn't much point to it.

It seems like both of you definitely have a roadblock in communication going, and while that could definitely be overcome, truth is it sounds like Fanny has very different wants/needs/expectations for her future.

She seems to definitely expect there to be some sort of physical relationship eventually. Wether she just expects it due to thinking that's just how "relationships" work, or something she actually wants for herself, just on her own time table, it does sound from what you wrote that she is at least more interested/affected by sex then you are.

It also sounds from her saying she wants to wait for her first kiss to be with someone she's engaged to, and that she's liked you for years but was willing to suffer in silence that she's a romantic at heart. She will want you to do romantic things for her in order to feel loved and appreciated.

And if neither sex nor romance are things you feel like you could ever want, I wouldn't go through with this. Both of you will just end up miserable, and neither of you deserve that.

Best of luck man, and sorry again that you have to deal with this

Hiiiii I'm sober tonight but I had a pretty good day today so I think I can handle this one on jellyfruit sparkling water alone.

So…the idea of romance is beginning to grow on me, even if it’s hard for me to pick out what makes it different from friendship. I can kind of sort it out by asking myself whether the things I’d like to do with her are different from things I’d like to do with my college buddies, and—yeah. Yeah, they are. Sorry, Treeso ol’ pal, but I’m not about to slow-dance in the kitchen with you—not without an unhealthy amount of alcohol, anyway. I’m probably never gonna be as much of a hopeless romantic as Fannie is, but…I think there are things I could learn. I even think I could kiss her one day. Just…just not yet.

But…sex is different. I don’t know if…I can ever do that.

And you're right. That's a whole ‘nother thing to think about in this whole mess. At first, I thought Fannie and I were alike, since she's so…you know…vanilla. But I know she wants to be married, and she wants to have children, and...she probably wants other things too, like you said.

Part of it is just how I've always been. As if there was some kind of developmental stage that just never occurred for me (psychologically, I mean). But I think some of it has to do with...Snoke. He took residence in my mind for years, and although I was sixteen when he first made contact, who knows how long he was there before that? And then eventually he won my trust and affections, and began to meet with me outside of my mind...and even though the memories are fuzzy...I remember certain things. He used to hold me in his arms while I cried. Cradle my face in his hands. Run his fingers through my hair. I kissed him on the cheek once, in the sunken hollow of his scars. Don't get me wrong, he and I never did anything weird together, but—

...No, what am I saying? Everything I just said is super weird. Aren’t I insane, trying to claim it wasn't weird I kissed an ancient raisin freak on his nasty, crusty face when I was a teenage boy—

But it was also the things he did to me mentally that stick with me. He used to probe my thoughts at night, and even though he could do that without actually touching me, it was...just as bad as it sounds. I remember being scared and skinny and sixteen, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling, trying to keep still while he entered my head. Trying to relax so that it wouldn’t hurt as much. I’d feel his presence pushing against the perimeter of my mind, harder and harder, until my resistance snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, and then it was like my soul ruptured and bled out all around me on the bed while his cold bony hands were feeling around my brain, and pulling stuff out, and examining things, and rearranging them, while I kind of went into shock and laid there frozen with tears streaming down my face and waited for him to be done—

Actually no I don't want to talk about this anymore. Throwing up in my mouth just a little bit.

...Sparkling water break. Ahh, the refreshing taste of carbonated water that was once in the same room as someone imagining a jellyfruit.

But, yeah…I just can’t think about being naked with someone, without being reminded of how that felt.

Um—I wasn’t physically naked with him. Again, I hate that that’s something I legitimately need to clarify. Just…naked in every single other sense of the word, to the point that I may as well have been.

And…it’s hard for me sometimes, because it sort of makes me feel like…like I’m not a guy or something. I mean, I know I’m a guy, I just mean…most guys aren’t afraid of sex. Quite the opposite, in fact. You remember I was homeschooled, right? Well, I learned a lot of new things in college. And I learned to pretend like I wasn’t afraid, you know, when the fellas were hanging out and swapping stories, and I’d just sit there, and try to laugh at the appropriate times…

I kind of told Treeso a little bit, since we were close buds. Not about Snoke specifically, but just…that something bad had happened to me when I was a teenager. Treeso was a solid dude, despite presenting like your typical frat bro, and he started taking me to the gym and joked that he was gonna make sure I got jacked so no one could ever hurt me again. I don’t think Snoke would be deterred by my biceps…but I did get a lot more confident.

And more physically attractive. I mean. Come on. I know I look good. I like looking good. But it never changed how I felt about…you know.

So…yeah. I never really worked on addressing this particular little trauma, since A) um…AUGHHHHHHHGHHGHHH and B) it didn’t seem like a problem, since I was so sure I was gonna be single forever. When this whole thing with Fannie started, I thought about it only a little...and part of me was like, hey, maybe she’d be okay with not...really...doing that?

But…that’s kind of a huge ask, isn’t it. It doesn’t make sense to me, but sex is kind of a big deal to most people, huh.

...Who knows. Maybe it would have been to me, too, if I hadn’t been…if Snoke hadn’t…

...I mean...what if this isn't just "how I am"? What if he made me this way, and now there's just a crucial part of my adult self that never got to form, that's broken, that I’ll never experience the same way other people do, that I can never get back, and...that I can never offer her…

...Oh Force. The sparkling water cannot save me. I know I like her. I know I love her. I'm even pretty sure now that I'm in love with her. But everything's all wrong, and I'm all wrong, I'm so screwed up, I'm screwed up in ways I've never fully realized, and probably screwed up in ways I don't even know yet—I mean look at me I’m not even a real man I mean what an absolute loser how can I look so damn good without a shirt but totally freak at the thought of getting in bed?? I'm such a weak kriffing beta failure I freaking hate myself and I bet she’d only end up hating me too and—and—and—okay, calm down, Ben, calm down, keep it chill…

…Okay. So. Clearly, this will not be my last time thinking about this. I am very tempted to throw it out of my brain and never think about it again, but…no. This feels…important to me.

Note to self. Need to buy more sparkling water.