and i guess i’m using tumblr to do it. sorry if that bothers anyone, I don’t mind if you remove me. i’m not very witty, i don’t post amazing things that you’ll reblog over and over again. there’s no way i’ll be tumblr famous. but it’s kind of the only space i have, in a way. it’s like my own little safe haven.

i’m scared. i think i’ve gone from one bad situation to another. and i keep hearing words like ‘healthy’ and ‘good for you’ being thrown around, but it doesn’t feel right. it doesn’t feel good to be not needed. it doesn’t feel good that my heart hurts. it’s one thing to be involved with so many people that need me in so many ways. that was draining. it hurt me because i couldn’t be enough, no matter what i did. and that was a horrible feeling, because i knew i would keep hurting people.

so i lightened my load. i said goodbye to those i felt i was hurting the most by not being there enough.

and now it feels like nobody needs me anymore. gab is off in france, doing whatever the hell gab does. great. i’m happy for her. i’m glad we don’t constantly revolve around one another like we used to. and…i have brandon. brandon is this guy. he’s gay. well. bisexual, more like. when i was broken-hearted and alone i agreed to try having sex with this guy again. someone that wasn’t going to be full of machismo, and wasn’t going to try and put all these expectations on me….i was excited about it. 

every time i did it i felt cheap, at first. like something dirty and worn. and i remember crying to her on the phone about it, begging her to explain to me why she did this all the time, how she could even bear to think it was good. somewhere along the line, I tried it again. and then another time. and i would always come home and look up at the ceiling and wonder why i was doing this again. and then…somewhere, some point, it just became what i wanted it to be. stress-relief. endorphin release. it was fun.

when star and i broke up, when the situation with gab exploded, when gab and i got back together and star threatened to go suicidal on me… he was there. he drove to dallas. we sat in his car and talked for hours. we…started meeting up more often, more recently. instead of once a month, i went over to his place one night. two days later he came and visited me. and a day after that, i spent the night again.

we spent time together, and we talked about surrogacy, and me possibly being a surrogate mother for him and his boyfriend. we started to talk after sex, and he held me once, and i relaxed against him. i let him in. i finally just let him in to whatever he wanted to know, i confided in him about things, i told him about what i wanted for my future and how i sort of knew i would never get it. it was still…fun. it was still release. and he became a wonderful friend, a friend i needed.

and then emotions happened without me knowing it. and somewhere along the line he became more than a friend and more than a friend with benefits. and he told me this. he told me outright that he loved me. that he wanted to have a family with me some day. and that he cared about me. we spent more time together. 

we fought about something stupid, and then he just. didn’t. let it. go. he kept on it. and then this past week he just dropped me like i was nothing, because apparently i had offended him so deeply. i backed off. i told him i still cared. i texted him every night, told him sweet dreams, and texted him every morning, to tell him good morning. and i was still nothing. and…

i don’t know. i’m used to being someone’s everything. i miss it. i miss it so much. i had it with gab. i had it in my friends. i love it when i’m needed, i crave being needed, being wanted, being loved. and i don’t feel loved right now. and it hurts. and it sucks. because i feel like i went from having everything, or too much of something…to not nearly enough. and i don’t know what to do with all of these excess feelings. i feel like i need to get out of this place. maybe what i need to do, is just leave. leave allen. and never look back. i hate this feeling.

like all too often i identify with my characters on a more-than-fictionalized scale. i have always done this. this is why i fall in love with my roleplay partners more often than not. this is why my current sort-of girlfriend is perfect for me - she falls into those roles with me in that respect. 

i have the ambition and confidence of jim kirk. jim’s how i try to live my life. i want to be charming, and have the wit he has. he’s been the very basis of my character for years now.

and then there’s france. 

he’s how i love. without a doubt. he is how i love. i love people who don’t love me back. i love people who don’t love me back nearly as much as i love them. i love people who, when they get me, obsess over me and try to possessively take hold of me until i break loose. i fall in love with multiple people at a time. i love with my whole heart. i let love consume me. i flirt, i laugh, and i make lewd comments. i fall in love with my friends that feel completely platonic to me. 

maybe i should stop doing this so much, but it’s so wonderful to be something i can understand.

cyruspotnoodle:

wandanyan:

theon-stark:

blokeinabowtie:

brohirrim:

iamjonwalker-jonwalkerisme:

ohio-is4-lovers:

These are not chips.

They are crisps.

These are chips.

That is all.

we don’t care

#DON’T TELL ME WHAT MY FOOD IS

THIS IS A VEGETABLE

BECAUSE WE LIVE IN AMERICA

These are chips

and these are chips too

That is all.

who the fuck cares about chips and fries and vegetables when you can have bagged milk

you win this round, canada.