#i fear i ate but i most definitely fucked up some of the anatomy

[goobobbers]

i shine only with the light you gave me

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 49

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 16. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: drug use, somewhat sensual. It must have been that silt bean he ate.

_______________________________

‘Choly took Sticks back to his rowhouse in the Deenwood officers’ residential. Angel busied itself in the kitchen. Sticks tossed down his flamethrower beside the golf bag in the corner, and atop it his coat, goggles, and ushanka.

“This place have a shower?” the ghoul asked, looking up the stairs in a tank top.

‘Choly’s scalped tensed, recalling Olivia’s caveat. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the texture of the ghoul’s arms which likely covered him head to toe.

“I haven’t tried the plumbing since I got here.” You’re smoothskin. “There’s showers in the enlisted barracks, if you’d--”

“--Nah, if it’s all right with you, I’d rather a good old fashioned one-person bath. It’s been a couple weeks.” He started upstairs.

“Olivia told me the residential plumbing wasn’t safe,” he finally spilled out.

Sticks paused a moment before continuing upward.

“For you, definitely not.”

“...Then she wasn’t lying about it being safe for ghouls?”

The ghoul stopped at the upstairs landing.

“Therapeutic, even.”

Once ‘Choly heard the bathroom door shut, he milled about to survey whether his belongings had remained untouched in his absence. Soon after, the water started, and he found himself upstairs as well, under the guise of assessing his closet effects.

He decided that, during their day on base, he didn’t want to wear his uniform. Stripping out of it, he instead wore the golfing ensemble he’d compiled not a week ago: the cobalt pinstripe dress shirt with white contrast collar and cuffs, the golfing khakis, the mismatched striped and argyle knee high socks, the geranium red cashmere. He stood at length with his arms wrapped across themselves, running his hands over the softness of the sweater as he stared at himself in the broken closet mirror. I’m not a war criminal. Am I? He remembered who’d given him the clothing he’d put on, and knew that he had more important problems to take care of than attempting some vague metric of his morality.

The water had stopped long ago. The bathroom door opened, for Sticks to sit on the side of ‘Choly’s bed to put his gloved left hand back on. Now wearing a Beaver Creek Alley bowling shirt and a pair of khaki slacks, the blond ghoul snorted through his lack of a nose as he noticed the chemist had joined him upstairs, and noticed the odd ensemble.

“Still fixated on dressing uncanny-sharp.” Sticks rubbed at his short under-chin beard. “Form over function’s such an ill fit in the Wasteland. Still, though. It’s nice to feel like I can disregard a need for functionality or security once in a while. Let my guard down and just be comfortable.”

“I just want to be able to stop and breathe and relax for five seconds.” ‘Choly’s hands dropped to his side as he mirrored the regard for the other man’s outfit, and they ended up in his pockets to disguise the exasperation in his body language. “...So you don’t wholly distrust Liv?”

“I only distrust her chem habits.” Sticks slouched back on the bed in dislike of his recollection. “God, she was one of your coworkers. No wonder you had such a hangup over administering chems yourself. I remember that one meltdown you had. Somebody came into the pharmacy, hadn’t used Med-X before. And you had to show them how. Your boss sent you home before lunch. It’s one of the only times you ever beat me home.”

‘Choly’s glasses slipped down his nose as his face slacked, and his cataracted gaze oozed out over the top of them.

“If I didn’t administer, I had to observe. Most days, I didn’t have the nerve to administer. She did. I... I saw things. A lot of things.” He flinched, forcing himself to instead remember how heavily he relied on the Melancholia to psychologically survive his military career. “I... I think silt bean flour would work as an ingredient substitute. Angel says it remembers one of the main ingredients was soy, so. I found some on my way through Billerica. You’re good in the kitchen. Would you help me dry roast them?”

Sticks could recognize the request for a meaningful distraction. He stood, grabbed his bag beside the baseboard, and gestured for ‘Choly to exit first. The two returned downstairs. Angel flitted about on the back patio, though neither could tell exactly what it was on about.

The Handy had placed the silt beans in the refrigerator. The chemist and entrepreneur sat at the kitchen table, peeling from their pods the beans and collecting them in a deep bowl. 'Choly kept finding himself spacing out, staring, and smiling as he watched Sticks split the pods with his gloved hand and retrieving the beans with his other. He cleared his throat and picked up another pod to work at.

“You didn’t weigh in earlier... Do you think I should try the X-Cell-Squared? Should I trust Olivia’s word, that it doesn’t have withdrawal issues?”

The ghoul thought a moment, but didn’t stop working.

“Ultimately, it’s your call. Your body, not mine. You want my opinion, though. If you run the risk of not feeling normal without it, I don’t think it’s a good idea. There’s a lot of different ways to feel addicted to--and withdrawals from--junk.”

‘Choly did and didn’t like this kind of an answer from someone who had been, and likely still was, a chem dealer. He couldn’t tell how honest anyone was being with him anymore, or what motive honesty could have. He popped a raw bean in his mouth in compulsion and chewed it. Expecting a raw, grassy flavor, he warmed instead to its starchy vague butteriness. Maybe he was just paranoid of everyone.

The two finished the first step of the task, and moved on to the second. Sticks spread out the beans in a frying pan. He used a match to ignite the pilot light on the back burner of the oven’s stove, then adjusted the flame to the lowest it’d go. He turned and started to say something, only for ‘Choly to lean up and grab his shirt, to press their lips together. Despite the abruptness of it, Sticks didn’t stop ‘Choly, and eventually kissed him back. He pulled back, slowly, with a dark heavy-lidded glance, and he ran his right hand around the back side of ‘Choly’s head as a smile tugged at each of them.

They both readily kissed again. Sticks backed ‘Choly against the kitchen table, who then sat atop it to compensate for being the shorter of the two, and dragged the ghoul back atop him as their tongues frustrated one another. The chemist removed his glasses and lost them behind him, letting out a wheeze when the ghoul let him lick the edges of the gap in the corner of his top lip.

“Perhaps my prior assessment of the relationship between the two of you was mistaken.” They both jumped, finding Angel’s ocular lenses inches from both their face. Angel’s lenses flickered before it withdrew them. “Forgive my intrusion. I’ll excuse myself.”

“--Angel, wait. Agh.”

‘Choly shot upright with a groan to reach out for the Mister Handy, who returned outside. His hair felt like it had fallen from its french twist, and he compulsively smoothed at it. Then he turned to find Sticks had walked into the living area, to help himself to the dry bar cabinet Angel had added all ‘Choly’s spirits into. After one shot of whiskey, the ghoul took a second with him to sit on the couch.

“If you’re in the market for some fantasy fulfillment, you might as well return the favor.”

Sticks set down his glass on the coffee table, to dig through the bag he’d set down there. He pulled out the lingerie catalogue and waved it knowingly at him. ‘Choly shakily put his glasses back on and a hand crept over his mouth in knit-brow shock of what meaning or purpose laying eyes on the thing again could have possibly been intended. He sank to kneel beside Sticks, readily accepting some unspoken proposition, and ran a hand over the top of the ghoul’s trouser sock, before slipping it under the hem of his slacks to push up the pant leg and caress his leg. In reflex Sticks jerked his leg out of ‘Choly’s hands, his knee coiled back and away, and he stared at him in bewilderment at length before he couldn’t contain a sharp, difficult laugh.

“Mindy, I think you and I had very different reasons for eyeing the same woman.” The ghoul reached forward to set down the catalogue. He retrieved his whiskey, and downed it, then patted ‘Choly on the head. In a stupor, the chemist pushed himself up off the floor, to sit beside him, hands in his lap wringing together for lack of knowing where else to possibly put them.

“If it’s all the same, maybe... Maybe we could just... Sit together on the couch for a while...” He couldn’t contain anxious pouting.

“...While the beans dry?”

“...While the beans dry.”

“You've got me for the time being...” Sticks put an arm across the back of the couch, around ‘Choly’s shoulder, and stared at the peeling ceiling. “What do you intend to do with that? Did you really think you could just continue where you left off? Nothing is the same as it was before the War. Not even you. You’ve looked in a mirror, right.”

When ‘Choly shrank against his chest, Sticks held him. The ghoul said nothing when he could feel the small man shaking with silent tears, and simply held him more firmly.

“I’ve never experienced a golden age in my life, but my brain keeps telling me that literally anything I had before stepping foot in that fucking vault could be better than life after the war. The world ended! Only the dead and dead-inside carry on.”

The hard resolve overwhelmed ‘Choly then, to break his promise to Angel, and he found himself seriously deliberating the best or easiest way to reclaim the Melancholy’s salts from its storage compartment without conflict. He nearly spoke aloud of it, to get Sticks’s input, but shut his mouth again, both for fear that he’d increased Angel’s ability to eavesdrop on him by upgrading its sensory matrix... and for guilt and self-awareness how it likely would sound to tell his once-roommate that he felt the strong drive to suffocate his emotions with drugs.

Sticks saw the look in ‘Choly’s eyes, and his features slacked before he bent forward to retrieve something from his bag. With a plaintive glance, he offered ‘Choly a thin metal syringe of pale purple fluid.

“Case you didn’t pick up on it by now, Sticks is also on account of the needles attached to most of the junk I have to offer.”

‘Choly snorted in a sudden agonized smile at the awful pun, and held the chem in his lap with his eyes shut tight as he tried to get himself to stop crying. Maybe I could use the Med-X in the Melancholia, instead of begging or sneaking the salts. He looked up when he could tell he was shaking his head at himself, and looked to Sticks, who wore a bated objection on his thin lips. Immediately sensing himself misinterpreted, ‘Choly steadied his leg against the cushion of the couch and held the syringe flush and perpendicular to his thigh, then seethed through his teeth when he depressed the plunger. The needle jutted through the fabric of his pants and his flesh to impart the chemical into his bloodstream.

I need it now more than I’ll need it later.

Sticks patted him on the shoulder and retrieved the empty syringe, then stood to check on the silt beans. ‘Choly set his glasses on the coffee table and let the heavy low overtake him as he laid down across the couch and curled up to stare at nothing.

The next thing that ‘Choly noticed was a loud grinding from the kitchen. He sat up and put his eyes back on to hobble over to investigate. He licked at his dry lips to see the ghoul had begun on the next step of the process: pulverizing the roasted beans into a powder. When ‘Choly sat in the kitchen, Sticks noticed and stopped, to hold up the pitcher of the blender.

“How much of that stuff you think this will make you?”

“I... I don’t know, maybe six. Eight.” ‘Choly rubbed at his forehead a bit. “It definitely smells right in here.”

“I take it we’re spitballing it. What else are you thinking goes into it?”

“...You keep working on beans.” He stood again. “I’ll go get what parts I do remember.”

The chemist vanished upstairs, only to return with a careful armful of various toiletries. Once he had set them all down, the ghoul presented the pitcher in front of him without the lid.

“When Angel went to borrow the blender, it also brought back measuring cups, if that helps.” The ghoul’s face scrunched up in a poorly hidden grimace at identifying what lay spread out on the table. “Exactly how far gone are you right now?”

“About as far as one of these usually carries me.” ‘Choly started squeezing out toothpaste into one of the cups. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Go on.”

He sniffed and scrunched his nose to push his glasses back up his nose, then proceeded to add toothpaste, a bottle of mouthwash, and a can of purified water. He fidgeted with the mechanisms of a Stimpak, but rather than waste the healing substance, set it down in agitation when he felt like he’d almost set off the pneumatic plunger. He rubbed at his eyes behind his glasses, then frowned at a fascinated Sticks.

“Your fine motor skills seem better than mine. Can you open up plunger end of all the reservoirs and pour in whole thing? Other one, too.”

“You... ’re putting Stimpak in something you intend to drink.”

“All right, all right. I know how stupid it sounds. I don’t remember what was going through my head, day it struck me to try drinking one. All I remember is, other stuff’s for covering up awful taste. Base is Stimpak.”

“The Stimpak’s awful, but the mouthwash is okay? And the toothpaste?”

‘Choly rolled his eyes in gratitude when Sticks sat down and resigned to the request.

“Touché.”

After another pass on the blender blades, Sticks poured a drinking glass about a third full of the now clearish yellow liquid, and set it before his friend. The ghoul sat with the pitcher and watched expectantly.

“You sure you’re not a vampire or something?”

“Bozhemoy if I’ve blocked out that there’s supposed to be blood in this.” ‘Choly clutched at his chest at the mere idea of it, only to seethe it out in one breath and pick up the glass to smell it. When it didn’t seem unappetizing, he took a sip and let it coat his mouth before swallowing. He licked at the front of his teeth with a sneer, then took another swig. “Yeah, mint and cinnamon don’t cover it up near as well as cherry.”

“Besides the flavor, you think you got it close to the prewar recipe?”

“Besides the flavor.” He melted into a dull stupor, and nursed at the drink, unable to enjoy his success. Distantly, he murmured to himself under his breath in Russian. Now that he knew what was in the MREs, was it really all that bad to eat them? It was just Day Tripper. “If she considers me colonel now, why didn’t she ask me to help her synthesize X-Root?”

“Technically, she didn’t really promote you. She hasn’t updated your designation... things on your coat, whatever they’re called. She just disclosed stuff to you that would’ve been confidential to someone of a rank lower than colonel.” Sticks’s face tightened, and he leaned just the slightest bit nearer with a slight squint. “What was that first part again?”

“I said--” ‘Choly stuttered a breath out of his nose and slouched. He set down the glass a little too hard, and glared at Sticks with a proud hiss. “I said, mne naplevat’ chto vse menya trakhayut.” He flicked the fig at him and slouched to finish off what remained of his initial batch sampling.

The ghoul straightened with a shit-eating grin, and, pointing at him, slowly wagged his finger with a growing chuckle.

“You kissed me with that mouth. Ha! Angel wouldn’t... gladly translate for me, now, would it?”

With a self-inflected glower, the chemist poured himself another third of a glass.

“Fuck off, Jacob.”

Sticks rested his cheek against a propped up fist, and probably couldn’t grin any wider, in stunned delight.

“Shit, I’m just learning so much about you today, Mindy.”

“I don’t know what use it would serve Olivia to register-- me...” He trailed off again in thought, dismissing the sharp nosedive the conversation had taken. His eyes widened, and he slapped the table with one hand. “...In system as colonel! I. I have to get her to upgrade me in system. Have Deenwood recognize me.”

The ghoul sobered to squint again.

“...Why.”

The more he explained himself, the more his face slacked into a vague smile.

“There’s got to be things I could gain access to by having my rank that high. I’d be directly under her. Provided she didn’t lock everything behind an O6 pay grade, I might get information worth having come all this way for. I took trouble to get up here. Thought some kind of DIA breach was risking Deenwood assets falling into raider hands. But, I had everything about it all wrong... Bozhemoy, what if I could get those formulas. I could cook up anything this base has ever made.”

Sticks mirrored ‘Choly’s dumbstruck awe.

“If you didn’t already have my full attention, you certainly do now.”

Go to Next »»»

[haptureratch]

Misty died today. I loved her more than anything in this world. She was with me every single day for the past few months. I’m happy for that. I am writing this right next to the place  where she had, unbeknowst to me, began to die. That poor little baby. She was acting strange while she laid in the blanket. Picking her head up to look around in a daze, or like a toddler fighting bedtime, before the sleepies pulled her head back down. I thought my noises of procrastination were keeping her awake. I was going to carry her downstairs to her cozy bed so she could sleep soundly. I didn’t pick her up. I walked over to the double doors of the bonus room and beckoned her toward me. She got up and could not walk straight, she veered to the left. I looked at the limbs on that side, they weren’t moving well and weren’t supporting her weight. I immediately turned the light on to see her better and knelt down. She sat in a tiny pillar at my feet and looked up at me with wide nervous eyes. I knew it was the end. I wonder what she thought. I’ve still got the scent of the vet’s office in my nostrils. And the urine she had held onto with such determination. No voiding. No accidents. Until there were no nerve signals left for her body to follow. We even held her in the grass twice and she didn’t go. (my mom and I) I got my “dying wish” -- to be with her, to hold her as she went. The most I fell apart was before we were even out of the house. I lost it a handful of times thinking about The Moment or what I would say to other people or things like that. While we were there, I felt strong. It was hard but I knew I wanted this. I loved her so much I wanted to be there holding her as she faded away. She must have been so scared. My left arm supported her neck, my hand cradled her jaw. My right arm wrapped all the way around the rest of her. And I just held her close and tight over mom. One of her blankets, too. I will keep her blankets forever. And the anatomy heart. I might keep her beds in my room until I’m ready to let those go. I don’t want to today. She was so nervous as we got ready to leave. But that’s her norm. There was no stopping it. Stroke or no stroke, she would have been a nervous wreck in the car and at the vet’s office. She fought against her condition so much. Pure adrenaline pushed her up on her legs as she tried to reposition and see everything outside of the windows while we were parked in front of the final place. She was barking at dogs and cars and people. For a second Mom wondered if we were doing the right thing, if she was too alive to be euthanized. Nope, she’s just ready to throw down up until her last hour and live out her last moments as a true Anxiety Queen (TM). It’s amazing how much spark came back to her as we stalled in the parking lot. It also made us feel terrible for her as there was no way to alleviate her fears. And we didn’t even know exactly what they were. I should note that in the house she was pretty lifeless after I woke up from my ill, incomplete sleep (that I definitely felt guilty for taking instead of continuing to watch her and reassure her). She seemed happy to see me awake, almost like she was waiting for me to join her again. At some point during the night I remember feeling movements. She had managed to flip herself over onto her bad side using her strong side. That maneuver made me think it could be a TIA and she’d start recovering... That time after carrying her gently downstairs, showing her deficits to my parents, them cradling her and preparing for the beginning of the end, and me calling Rilley and readying myself for the night ahead---- that was when I tried so hard to do what Rilley told me. I tried to savor it, pet her, kiss her, smell her, talk to her, comfort her. I tried to change my energy and give her reassurance like google said to. I tried nuzzling her, repositioning her, recapturing the intimacy and bond we shared every time she laid with me. The times studying or just relaxing. (Again, I am so glad I got to have these slowed down days and really live with her.) She had a dream around 1:45am if I remember the time correctly. She growled in her sleep and did the sleep-bark chirping. I wonder what she was dreaming of. I hope it was her living her best life, telling the world the fuck what was up. She may have had one or two other dreams, smaller. Then I felt too sick to keep going and tried to sleep. Mom took over when she woke up. I told her I hadn’t slept. I forgot what I did when I got my relief. The rest of that time was spent by us taking turns holding Misty, trying to make sure she was comfortable. Trying to get her to close her eyes and sleep. Sometimes she did, sometimes she glanced around with a little uneasiness and trepidation. The latter got worse as time wore on. We tried letting her be outside a couple times. Once earlier to just pee. She couldn’t hold herself up (much to my sadness, though I accepted that this was no TIA). So we tried to hold her in a squat. She wouldn’t pee. The second time we brought her out, I now she enjoyed the feeling of sun on her fur and breeze blow past her nose. She had a flicker of that contented-dog-outside look in her eyes as she lifted her nose to sample the air. We let her lay in the grass one more time. It was a short moment but I tried to save the snapshot-- sunny sky, shaded grass, warm black fur, clear breeze. I hoped she could forget what was going on for just a brief second. I hoped she could really enjoy that one last time. It was heaven until we noticed bugs jumping on her. Mom had brought a towel for her to lay on in the shade since I was worried she might overheat in the direct sunlight. We really saw the bugs against that white towel. She was on the patio couch for a bit after that. Mom took over. I think I ate, they came in, and I needed my stomach to settle before I took over. I went to the bathroom and my god damn period came. Hesitant to take nsaids because of my stomach but wanting relief so I could hold my baby, I steadily took one then two then three. I laid on Mom’s side of the bed trying to let them pass. I lost some time there but it’s all I could do. They were so strong...like in high school. Before the cramps hit (or maybe during, who knows) there was a lot of calling around to see who’d allow us to hold her as she passed. Or if someone could come to the house. So much calling around. A plan was finally set. Leave at 2:30. Appointment at 3. I didn’t even see the place walking in, pretty much just walking out. She shivered so much. I just tried to hold her and press my face into the top of her head. And rub over her ears and eyes. Something ending in a -zine was given for anxiety. My hope was to take the edge off so we could spend our last moments without so much fear. She stopped shaking when the vet came in and Mom started talking. I told her us talking really calms Misty down. Then the propofol was given. She fell asleep. The vet kept trying to talk to us but I had to drown him out. I wanted all of my senses to make memories of her, not him. My dog is dying, I really don’t care about anything else man. Then a clear pale pink-to-purple mixture of phenobarbital-something was given and she went just a little limper. She urinated on me but I didn’t care; I signed up for every part of this. I forgot to feel her heart stop beating but it was better to have kept holding her so securely. It wasn’t fair how her cute little arm was bent up just like it is when she sleeps. She didn’t “turn” the way humans do when the light goes out. I was happy for this. She just looked like she was asleep. I saw her from above as I held her, and then straight on when she was on the table. Her eyes didn’t scare me. They did not look sad, just asleep. So relieved for it. I kept looking at her because I had to take in that she was completely still. I had to watch her a know the chest was not moving. I needed closure. I hugged and pet her dead body over and over again. It wasn’t weird to me. I wanted to take home part of her, like an ear so I would never forget the softness of that little velvet triangle. Or her paw since that seems less creepy (rabbit foots). I encircled my arms around her one last time, the way I always did when she was sleeping so adorably in her bed. One more time, beebee. Mom helped me tuck her into the vet office blanket on that metal table. I can’t count how many times I kissed and nuzzled her. I called her baby, weedle, weeble, Middy, Misty. I told her I loved her, I will miss her so much. Go to sleep, go nuh-nigh.

----

The night before.... When I was savoring her.... The top of her head smelled just like when she was a puppy.

[runyousillydetective]

Answer all of them you coward

Well fuck. I gotta answer them all now.

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? @justlivingforthemoment​2. Are you outgoing or shy? Hrm. Classic introvert so... I’m pretty shy until I get to know you.3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? @justlivingforthemoment​ 4. Are you easy to get along with? Don’t be an asshole and we’re golden5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? If she isn’t drunker than I am. And even then, I think she’d still try6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Personality and humor always comes before physical appearance for me. Idk7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? If I’m not I will be extremely surprised and heartbroken8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? Is there really an “opposite” gender...?9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Not really. Especially when it comes to telling women all the shit they don’t know about their own anatomy because American sex ed is the most terrible thing on Earth stg10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? ... @justlivingforthemoment​ (do you see a theme because I do....)11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “Yeah!”12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? “Lydia” Highly Suspect, “Slow Hands” Niall Horan, “Thump Thump Thump” Natt & Alex Wolff, “Glitter in the Air” P!nk, and "Beam Me Up” P!nk (You get four because I suck)13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Totally14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Kind of?15. What good thing happened this summer? This summer has barely started16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Many, many times17. Do you think there is life on other planets? I find it hard to believe there isn’t18. Do you still talk to your first crush? No19. Do you like bubble baths? I fucking love bubble baths20. Do you like your neighbors? I mean, I don’t really know them? But they know my parents and they are nice21. What are you bad habits? Idk I’m defensive and emotionally stunted and easily distracted22. Where would you like to travel? Is everywhere an acceptable answer?23. Do you have trust issues? Lol depends on shit and stuff24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Ignoring my first alarm25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My smile26. What do you do when you wake up? Slowly pry my eyes open and feel like screaming27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Nope28. Who are you most comfortable around? @justlivingforthemoment​29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Nope.30. Do you ever want to get married? I mean, I could definitely see it happening. That’d be nice if I found the right person31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? A short one but I’m growing it out again32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? I’m... not really a threesome person33. Spell your name with your chin. z nvged,l,lkjc az34. Do you play sports? What sports? Lolololol35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Shit, idk man36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Not recently37. What do you say during awkward silences? I generally make terrible jokes and make everybody feel angry with me38. Describe your dream girl/guy? @justlivingforthemoment​39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Erhm, the internet?40. What do you want to do after high school? Well, my next step in getting a doctorate in educational anthropology41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Yeah, people can fuck up. It’s how you change/fix it that really matters42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? Sometimes nothing, sometimes I’m sad, sometimes I’m angry43. Do you smile at strangers? Depends on how introverted I’m feeling (or if I’m working)44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? The ocean fucking terrifies me, space it is45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? The fact that I live in a capitalist society and if I don’t go to work I will die and nobody will mourn my death because I was “lazy” and “deserved it”46. What are you paranoid about? Things and stuff47. Have you ever been high? Nope48. Have you ever been drunk? Yup49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Probably though I can’t think of what it might be right now50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Black and pink51. Ever wished you were someone else? Sometimes yeah52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? My absolutely paralyzing fear of authority figures53. Favourite makeup brand? honey I don’t make up often enough for that54. Favourite store? I have no idea, I’m too broke to spend money55. Favourite blog? probs @thebootydiaries​56. Favourite colour? Blueee57. Favourite food? Bread58. Last thing you ate? Ravioli59. First thing you ate this morning? Honey Bunches of Oats60. Ever won a competition? For what? Erhm, uh, I mean, I won reader of the month quite a few times in elementary school. And I’ve probably won something since then but it wasn’t that important idk61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Nope62. Been arrested? For what? Nope63. Ever been in love? Yeahhhh64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? It was in my basement, watching a Disney movie, idk65. Are you hungry right now? Nah66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Most of my tumblr friends are my real friends but the couple of friends that aren’t irl friends are just as important to me67. Facebook or Twitter? Uh, neither?68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now? Well, I’m watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix but I don’t really watch tv anymore70. Names of your best friends? Alexa, Jenny, Becca, Caitlyn, and Cory71. Craving something? What? @justlivingforthemoment​72. What colour are your towels? My towels are all the colors of the rainbow. My parent’s towels are light green, light blue, white, and pink. Idk they are old72. How many pillows do you sleep with? I sleep weird. I use a body pillow for my head (it is so long that it doesn’t slip out from under my head 73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Not always but I often have either my childhood teddy bear, Hug Me, or my puppy (which @justlivingforthemoment​ has right now)74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? I’ve got at least ten75. Favourite animal? It sounds terrible when there are so many amazing animals out there but I honestly just love dogs so much (and hedgehogs)76. What colour is your underwear? Striped light and dark pink77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Both (I’m bi and we are indecisive, remember)78. Favourite ice cream flavour? I really like the black raspberry and chocolate flavor79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Fluorescent green80. What colour pants? Black81. Favourite tv show? Sense8 (A Netflix original but it counts!!!)82. Favourite movie? I can’t choose just one, honestly83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? I don’t even remember Mean Girls 2 so Mean Girls84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean Girls85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Mrs. George86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? The starfish (I’m terrible with names and I’m so sorry)87. First person you talked to today? Texting? @justlivingforthemoment​ In person? My dad88. Last person you talked to today? My dad89. Name a person you hate? A couple of people90. Name a person you love? @justlivingforthemoment​ (in case you couldn’t guess from all the times they’ve been mentioned already)91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? I can think of a couple92. In a fight with someone? Nope93. How many sweatpants do you have? A couple94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? A lot95. Last movie you watched? Sully96. Favourite actress? Idk97. Favourite actor? Idk98. Do you tan a lot? Sweetie, I don’t tan, I burn99. Have any pets? Two dogs and a cat and a beta fish but none of them live with me rn100. How are you feeling? Alright, thanks for asking101. Do you type fast? I mean, average?102. Do you regret anything from your past? Nah, not really. I learned from it103. Can you spell well? W-E-L-L104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yeah, sometimes105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Lots, I’m from the middle of nowhere so we have a lot of bonfires106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Yeah but they hurt me first107. Have you ever been on a horse? Yep!108. What should you be doing? Finishing my online essay exam109. Is something irritating you right now? Some stuff110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yeah111. Do you have trust issues? Didn’t I already answer this?112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? My dad (my brother left me out of his wedding almost entirely and then left me out of something else and my feelings were really hurt)113. What was your childhood nickname? Gels, Gel Belle, Jelly Bean, Beaners, various other such names, and Thumpy114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yeah115. Do you play the Wii? ANIMAL CROSSING116. Are you listening to music right now? Nope117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? I do118. Do you like Chinese food? I have a Chinese food date with @aceincorporated tonight119. Favourite book? Anything by @tamorapierce120. Are you afraid of the dark? No but I know who is!121. Are you mean? I’m too nice, actually122. Is cheating ever okay? Nope, if you’re cheating there is a reason and you need to prioritize your life123. Can you keep white shoes clean? NOPE124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No, it is just attraction. Love comes from knowing somebody125. Do you believe in true love? Yeah, but I don’t necessarily believe there is only one person out there for you126. Are you currently bored? A little127. What makes you happy? Dogs and @justlivingforthemoment128. Would you change your name? Nope, I like it129. What your zodiac sign? Sagittarius130. Do you like subway? Yup131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? I’m gay and taken so... they have to get over it132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? I already answered this question, too.133. Favourite lyrics right now? I am blanking134. Can you count to one million? I’m sure I could if I had to but I don’t want to135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I’m sure I’ve told some really dumb ones but I don’t know what they were now136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? CLOSED. THE MONSTERS CAN GET ME IF THEY ARE OPEN.137. How tall are you? 5′4″138. Curly or Straight hair? Curly139. Brunette or Blonde? Dirty blonde but I’ve colored my hair dark auburn140. Summer or Winter? Summer141. Night or Day? Night142. Favourite month? Either April or October143. Are you a vegetarian? Nope144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark145. Tea or Coffee? Tea tea tea tea146. Was today a good day? It’s my day off so I guess so147. Mars or Snickers? Both?148. What’s your favourite quote? “The world is before you, and you need not take it or leave it as it was when you came in.” -James Baldwin149. Do you believe in ghosts? Sometimes, maybe? Kind of?150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?“’-way, you know. It don’t matter. And when the gov-’” -Stephen King, Different Seasons

[jeanxgenie]

01.03.17

I don’t even know where to begin, talking to you has become something different entirely. A different being. I get the impression the love runs deep, and at the bottom of all the distancing and cold shoulder you show me now, a part of you is probably still in love with me.

 I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting, I wake up every day and think of you. I think I’ve settled my own head knowing it’s not me missing being your girlfriend, but I miss my best friend. We had it all and you just didn’t fight for me. I don’t know why you didn’t fight if you loved me as much as you claim to have done. It felt real, it felt right.

 It’s hard for me to let go of the details and I know you’re stuck on the ones where I failed you too. We both failed each other in many ways. That was the disintegration of the relationship. I carried around so much hurt; I never truly felt like yours and I told you so many times to amend your behaviours and you’re wondering eyes but they never did stop wondering around the sea of the internet. I’d look at these girls and feel nothing but self-hatred when I saw them in their suspenders and with their perfect hair and their heavily made up faces. I didn’t stop putting in effort for the most part with my looks, granted when I was depressed I definitely could have tried harder and let myself slip. I comforted myself with sugary snacks and binge filled evenings I regretted every time. I stopped matching my underwear every morning and I lived in clothes that were comfortable rather than that complimented the curves I carry around.

 I always compared my body to that of the anatomy books they show you in sex ed, the woman always depicted with wide child bearing hips and curves and natural looking tits. A soft body, feminine, realistic typical portrayal of a ‘woman’ I suppose. That is me. That is what I offer physically. I was never going to be the girl dressed in Topshop with no breasts and the hips of a boy. The baggy t-shirts and loose fit ‘mom’ jeans that have become so popular in editorials and photo shoots that scatter Instagram do nothing for me. I’ve always found it hard to be the ‘cool’ girl, to be effortless or alternative when I look my best in plain clothing that fits tight to my shape. There’s nothing punk about that. I know that. My clothes are as exciting as my personality which I feel is also beige. Regardless of all this, I knew how to turn it on when necessary, I made the effort to surprise you and I’d always make an effort for date night or when we went out for food. I wanted you to feel proud to have me on your arm.

 Ours was the longest relationship I’d ever committed to. Everything about the friendship was easy, there was no denying we got on. It was the type of connection that didn’t need explanation it just was. We vibed off each other and I never felt uncomfortable hanging with you, there never felt a time of awkwardness, we could just be. I guess that’s what I miss the most, the companionship. But that got wiped out alongside the mess that was the deception and the secrecy. It was never going to be easy to be together and we were both innately aware of that fact. I remember the night you cried in the carpark to me thinking we were having to break up to make everyone else happy. That the love we felt was not allowed, it was forbidden in the eyes of our self-made ‘family’. I will never forget that night and what we went through thinking we could never openly express the love we felt.

 For all that, for all the stresses and having to hide our feelings for so long, when it all as in the open and finally accepted that we were in fact together and in love I thought that was it. I thought you’d be happy, but nothing could make you truly happy and I never did get to the bottom of that. No love in the world could reach that place that resides in the depths of your head. You continued to keep me a secret from family, friends, and the people we worked with. Everything was strictly business, I had to be professional at all times, I could never be seen to be yours even when people were comfortable that I was. I was always defiant of them anyway, I didn’t give a fuck what they thought, I loved you and that was all that mattered. Fuck if anyone else couldn’t deal with my relationship outside of work or who I chose to spend my time with. That was mine and I always still owned that part of my life. It wasn’t up for discussion or for released control into the hands of the others. It was mine.

 I only met your mum a couple months before we broke up. I loved your family truly, I loved getting to know them for the brief time I did. It saddened me you hadn’t let me be a part of your world sooner when you’d been welcomed into mine from the first time you slept over. Our relationship wasn’t some perfect story, we bickered like an old married couple. We often fought and clashed our heads together. To this day I still describe us as a modern day Sid and Nancy, but it worked. It was never malicious, the clashing was with love. We challenged each other. We were both so stubborn, we still are.

 It was always playing in the back of my head the sea of girls that you’d befriend and the excuses that came with that. The photos of them undressed and the hilarity you found in the whole thing. The excuses were dry and once they appeared in one corner of your circle they’d creep into all aspects of your internet world. They’d be somebody on Instagram, who you’d then befriend on Facebook, who would talk to you on here, who you’d tweet to more and more. They’d worm their way in on our relationship which in fairness they didn’t know existed. You didn’t tell them I was yours. There was no inclination or hint to my existence in any of your online presence or in fact your presence in the real world. I was always the girl who was just your best friend, they would question if it was more but you never gave them an answer. There would be text messages that didn’t make sense, there would be inappropriate conversations to have had with people you’d say were just your friends. Years this went on, years and years throughout the time we were together.

 I grew more and more insecure as time went on. My love for you never died, my love for myself shrunk so small it was barely visible anymore. You did know me so well, you knew how I hated and still do hate to feel alone. I struggle with my own company, and my own schedule, it coincides with the depression. The back of my mind always haunted me with the image of us marrying and you walking out on me with no remorse. I saw you walking the way my own father did in my parents’ marriage. The fear of being alone is something I’ve always struggled with, you could say I have abandonment issues, you’d probably be correct and it’s something I’m aware of. I tortured myself with the lack of knowing your habits and the reality and extent of the girls who made your head turn when I wasn’t watching. You could never give me solid proof to confirm that nothing was going on. You said it was an invasion of your privacy, but all I needed was a little reassurance and with all the love you felt for me you couldn’t even give me that peace of mind. I was forever in turmoil not knowing what was going on behind my back, you couldn’t give me a shred of confidence in you. It ate away at me, it really did.

 I made my own mistakes too. Throughout all this back and forth in my own head knowing if I could live without you and be strong enough to leave my best friend knowing I deserved reassurance and love and comfort, not breach of trust, lies and deceit. I told you after I left it was the hardest decision I’ve ever made in a relationship having to walk away but I did not have any other choice. You couldn’t give me the answers I needed and I was losing my mind not knowing the truth. I should have been yours, you should have wanted to scream it from the rooftops how important and in love we were but you cowered away. Even after we broke up, all it would have taken was a bunch of flowers sent to my house or you catching a bus to mine and banging down the door to see me, that fight, that need, that craving for me to not really leave. But I faced total silence, I spent weeks in silence, waiting on you again to step up to the plate and being once more disappointed. Less than twenty four hours after I ended it you were looking at other girls again. Something I’d stopped checking for the last few months we were together just so that I could pretend we were fine. I wanted that fifties version of movie romance, I wanted to pretend we were the ones living out the dream of true love. That we had that love people write songs about and dedicate books to.

 Your drinking was a problem. When we were happy we would still fight if it sent you the wrong way. You had two automated channels after throwing back the booze; the funniest man I had ever met or the nastiest aggressive man I would face. I don’t miss that part and I’ve seen it even recently in you. The aggression towards others and the cutting comments. I never liked that side of you.

 I’m not an innocent in this story, I know I moved on quickly from you and I. Like you said to me I cannot stand to be alone. I cannot stand my own company and I fell head first for someone who offered me the security and comfort that was missing from our own relationship. When he asked me on a date, he looked after me more so in that one evening than I had been my entire life and it surprised me. Here stood a man I never thought would show any interest in myself confessing how much he loved me, how much I turned his world into a frenzy when I stepped into it. How I came in like a hurricane and changed everything he had thought was his future. I only ever thought he would be my friend. We always got on so well when we first met but I didn’t know that would ever become something more. He had an almost fiancée and I was done with the concept of love after you and I came to an end. I felt lust, I felt passion, I felt like yes I could sleep with someone else but I never expected anything more than that. My belief in love was dead.

 I thought my days of loving were over. But here he was, this man crazily unapologetically in love with all that I am, offering me the world and more. It was different from the start, he told everybody in his life who I was within only one date taking place. The day I went for a meal with him he asked me to move in. I questioned it all, it’s just chemicals and hormones and a slew of madness I thought to myself. I’m not special or worthy of this kind of emotion, why would anybody want me this much? What the hell did I do to make anyone this gaga over somebody like me? But it didn’t stop, he didn’t back down with his displays of affection. He looked after me in a way I hadn’t felt since the happiness of my childhood. I’d forgotten contentment like this for almost 12 years and here it was embodied in the safety and love of this man.

 Nothings perfect, after the initial hurricane of loves first bloom my insecurities snuck up on me once more. I questioned being worthy of this love. I questioned this man’s motives, I questioned if this was real, why would he love me? What did I do to deserve this love? Was I just another fool, another stupid little girl making another of my many mistakes? My trust had been shattered for over a decade and my heart kicked back and forth like a football match between two rival teams. Fast and hard with neither side relinquishing their desire to annihilate the opposition. The depression crept back amongst my sickness. I was incredibly ill and suddenly faced with vulnerability at such an early stage of a new relationship. Having to completely lay myself bare and trust this new person to look after me whilst I was away from home and to not turn around and leave as soon as they see me at my worst. I lay in bed ugly and pale with dark circles pressed deep down into the layers of skin that wrapped around my eyes. Over the course of that week I cried, I ate, I cried more from the pain, I questioned if he would leave me, if he would still really love me when he saw me like this. Still he was there every day, every hour of the morning on the phone to the DR, holding my body when I moaned out in pain, bringing me fluids when I only managed two hours sleep one night to try and get me to eventually rest my eyes. It was a hard week, physically yes but also emotionally for myself a huge test.

 I became restless and he saw it making its way back into my life. He could see the darkness and the uneasiness I felt. My inability to sit still in front of the TV and just relax of an evening. It was like I had itchy feet and needed to be constantly stood. That next morning he left for work I cried until my eyes shrunk behind the surrounding skin, puffed up like meringue. The tears came and didn’t stop flowing, there was no reasoning with myself to get it together and stop this stupid feeling of sadness. The seal was broken and it was too late to stop the leak, I was broken again and I knew that day was a right off. I phoned around desperate for someone to talk to, I even tried to talk to you my ex-lover in hope you could even support me as a friend but you turned the other way. I understand why, I also felt a deeper sense of abandonment. Know that I had forgiven you for all your past mistakes as a way to remain friends, I forgave all the hurt and I still cared deeply about your wellbeing despite being the first to move on. I get the sense it’s too hard for you to care about mine. I wondered if you’d care if I died, if my body was no longer in existence on this earth what you would feel.

 I’ve felt like dying ever since that day, it’s been a week now and the feelings haven’t left. My head tortures me with images of my body hanging from my bedroom ceiling. The illness teasing me with ways out from the life that I’m struggling so much with living at present. I still don’t feel well from whatever virus I picked up when my love looked after me so patiently. I’m so sick of being sick and so tired of being tired. Battling just my head alone is the greatest challenge I continue to face as the years come and leave, to have to battle both my physical and mental health when neither are at a level that makes my life liveable is a challenge that belittles and engulfs me.

 I left my love, they sent me home from where I was working alongside him. I sit here alone in my room as I write this and reflect on all these things that have been clogging up my head. All this emotion and fraught distress that has overwhelmed me. Abandonment is an issue I cannot digest and it’s harder knowing I must rest and recover here in my home alone than to be physically unwell but continue to surround myself with others. I failed at my job with him, I failed at my job as a musician and I have failed my new relationship in many ways slipping to such lows so early on. The issues we contend with have potential to make the bonds that tie us close snap. He became so angered and I questioned leaving him, such a new love only newly bloomed and I was ready to walk away. Depression has a habit of stealing everything from underneath you and leaving you completely alone with just yourself and it. It steals everything that makes you a person and cuts each part off one by one until you are alone. It waves goodbye to any interests or hobbies you once enjoyed, it tells you you’re not worthy of the love from your family and friends. It wants you alone with it, it wants you vulnerable and weak and for you to get sucked into the point of giving up on everything for it. It wants you dead. Depression doesn’t give a fuck about you the person, it wants you gone from this world. Depression wants to send souls to the other side, its goal is to eliminate people one by one through entering their heads and informing them they are not worthy of the life they have been given.

 When you see great battles re-enacted in film or hear of tactics and bravery throughout some of the wars in history it may seem of ill taste to begin to compare something of such great scale to that of a mental illness. For me at least, that’s how fraught the battle is, that is how hard it is to face the day. Fighting your depression is like going to battle against the world’s best army with a wooden sword and a frail body. The smallest things makes you crack under pressure. The boundaries of coping and what you are able to cope with diminish. I find myself bursting into hysterical tears over such small failures, often of which the people around me see as me doing something at an acceptable level. Try telling someone they’re great at something when they think they are the shit stain of society. Good luck convincing them they aren’t.

 I’ve been writing this for almost two hours now and there’s still so much more I could say. These are the tangled web of thoughts that I’ve needed to put out somewhere that isn’t a spin cycle in my own brain. We all need that release. I miss my lover every day we are apart. I believe in trying to salvage the best out of new encounters and knowing that you deserve to be treated well. I try to tell myself every day I am a person worthy of his love and there’s parts of me he sees that I don’t know how to love myself but that one day in his arms I will love them too. I could become too much for him, I’ve lost lovers at the cost of my own head before, and it is not easy to date someone of such negative disposition. I believe love exists again, I believe it comes to us at different times under various different guises and I believe I currently have the love I need. I hope that this illness doesn’t take that from me either. I also respect that it is also out of my control.

  I miss my best friend every day, but I hope in time he will forgive me for moving on. I love the man I’m with, I appreciate his resilience and drive to succeed and to not let me fall behind. It’s a different kind of love, no two relationships are the same. Bonds and friendships are paramount but trust is of greater importance. Care and feeling are of greater importance, I need to be looked after. I need to be cared for and supported as much as I support the person I’m with. I need stability and rationality and sometimes that isn’t exciting in the way drama is when it knocks at the door, but its adult and it’s sensible but it’s consistently still there every morning. Yes there was an excitement to having to constantly prove myself, to constantly try and keep someone else’s attention on me, but the darker side to that life was the crumbling of my own self esteem.

 Love should make you flourish, make you want to be the best version of yourself you can put out into the world. It should still support you at times where you are ready to recoil from life. Love should only damage when it is taken away, not when it is meant to coexist between two souls and the lives that they live. Love shouldn’t thrive on insecurity, it shouldn’t have to prove anything nor require you to prove you deserve it. Love is selfless not selfish, it gives to the other, it ensures the other person is ok, it ensures that they make it through. Love is laughing and experiencing more than just the home you inhabit. Love is being comfortable enough to spend time at home and embrace each other’s needs and silences.

 I have faced so many personal challenges over the past four months that have led to me breaking and having to rebuild the foundations again. My health has caused constant worry, I have been drugged up on prescription after prescription with no clearer understanding of what is wrong with me. My head has sunk low and my mental state has succumbed to the demons that circle from a distance, they waited for my health to decline and my head to snap and swooped in violently gripping their hands around my skull. I’ve been trying to vanquish their grip since, I have my love, I have friends I have family and I have to continue in weakness to fight.

[immadtho]

When I was a little kid I was adult-minded, but I always had a sense of the age I was, and roughly what actions suited a kid of those ages. I knew a pretty decent amount about sex as a very young kid, and I nearly always saw it in movies between adults. When kids were doing it they were doing it badly, and I didn't want a part of it. Even into high school, I thought my friends and I looked like kids, even my boyfriends. Although I thought about sex I didn't think it would be fun until I had a decent amount of self-confidence and autonomy over my body (although I definitely didn't have the words for it back then), which ended up being absolutely true. I also didn't want to get pregnant; my mental health has always been tenuous, and I knew I could not handle any repercussion of an unplanned pregnancy.

I didn't have sex until the day I graduated from high school. It was okay in the sense of pleasure but fun in the sense that it was a big deal and I liked the guy I did it with a lot. It was a positive experience. My friends, some of which had been having sex since they were 12 but all of whom had been having it for some length of time, were stoked for me. It definitely signaled comfortability and trust with myself and my partner.

The second or third time I had sex the condom came off in me, and even though I was on birth control, I went to Planned Parenthood the next day, explained what happened, and asked for the morning after pill. They were like "you are 99.9% not pregnant." "Your Song" was playing on the radio and I sat in the waiting room crying. I begged them because I knew my anxiety and OCD would prevent me from having a regular life again until 1 year of periods had come and gone, and that must've been clear because they gave it to me. It was an extremely physically painful experience. I ate a banana and a Rice Krispy treat before I took it and ever since I've had a banana allergy; I don't know if the two events are related.

That boyfriend and I had a healthy enough relationship but broke up when I went away to college. The next guy I dated, Corey, was abusive. I had a crippling fear of getting pregnant and having to marry him (I'm from rural Ohio). Because of this, I stopped wanting to be physical shortly after he invited himself to move into my studio apartment. He wouldn't let me talk to my friends with any regularity, and he would cry and jerk off in front of me, belittle and degrade me, because I would decline sex, and he would do it until I did something, if you know what I mean. I would try to always do something that would not involve penetration and became obsessive in tracking my periods.

These trauma-related obsessive thoughts and actions carried over into nearly all of my relationships because in MOST of my relationships with men autonomy was taken away from me in relation to my body and sex life. I've been cheated on; had more than one person remove a condom right before sex; go for things without asking; jerk off next to me while I sleep; tell me they don't want kids and don't want to be exclusive but also don't want to use a condom.

I've always wanted kids, but have a bunch of issues with my female anatomy that's hard to parse out, so I don't know if I physically can or not, and I won't know until I know. I've never been pregnant, but I've had periods that are so painful and full-bodied I wondered at the time if I was miscarrying. I have webs of estrogen and fibroids on the inner and outer walls of my uterus. I had a breast reduction last year because my breasts hadn't stopped growing since I was 11. For those reasons and others, the possibility of physically having a child is precarious, loaded, and precious. I tell every partner the same thing: I'm very careful, and maybe it's annoying, but if I get pregnant I'm not having an abortion. I am totally on board with abortions, but part of choice is saying this is what I will and won't do with my body. The way I'm gonna say this may be mean or spiteful, but when I tell that to guys--that I won't have an abortion--they usually get mad at me or stop fucking me, or both, so they really get to make the choice for me.

I've had sex with 13 men, and of them, 4 didn't do any of the things I mentioned above. Those four good experiences helped to recalibrate my brain so that I had an ingrained sense of what healthy sexual relationships look like, a light in the cavern that I could try to return to after periods of abuse. That said, after my last long-term relationship, which was a nightmare, I didn't have sex with a man for two years. When I finally did, it was with a 50-year-old man who tried to initiate without a condom while I was sleeping. I jumped out of bed exasperated and got one, and we had really bad sex. I told my friends about it and tried to make light because I was so confused--no sex for TWO YEARS and that's my first time back? I was so mad and ashamed but dated him for another month anyway.

It fucks me up every time. It's fucked. It's men giving women something they don't want. I would love to have healthy, proactive sexual relationships with men and have repeatedly had that not given to me. If that's a choice, to have sex in a way that isn't scary and won't leave me with undesired consequences, I've had that choice taken away too many times to number. Even though I haven't been pregnant and never had an abortion and may never have either experience, I want to talk about how righteously pissed I still get to be. It's rare, almost nonexistent, for men to feel the psychic pain that comes with having no choice in something as severe as this.

If ever I have an unplanned pregnancy I don't want to have an abortion, but my body might not be able to carry a healthy baby. I'm poor. Every possibility is terrifying and loaded. Womxn are told repeatedly throughout life that their bodies are not their own in every way they could have ever felt that maybe they were. Tell me I can't with my body about anything now and I'll tell you to eat my shit till you die.

tl;dr It's really fucked up that men try to choose how women have sex with them AND how women deal with the repercussions.