An Open Letter

I setup a minecraft server for us to play together, and we played till 1 am. And then we talked until 4 am. I’m about to pass out, but god she’s amazing. She’s so great in so many different ways. I’m falling for her hard, honestly falling is the wrong word because I’ve already fell.

What a whirlwind of a last few days. So me and E went on our first irl date, and it went super well, with us spending about 8 hours together. Then she got locked out so I grabbed her to sleep over, and then today I drove her to the airport. We just played games for like an hour, and it’s nice because I feel comfortable with her. I absolutely can see me asking her out after a bit, I just don’t want to rush things. I’m a bit worried how fast I’m moving but I don’t see blatant red flags (I hope).

We spent the whole afternoon and then night together. Then she got locked out of her apt and so I grabbed her and she’s sleeping over. I’m mentally exhausted but happy I think.

I guess my favorite color is a bit of a red tint lol. I had my first “date” with E just now, and we played games on discord and talked for like 6 hours. She’s about to go to the bay for 2 weeks before coming back, and so we planned dates today and tomorrow before she leaves. I really like her as a person and hanging out with her, but as the night got a bit later some of the red flags kinda came out. She is very deranged in the way of being incredibly open and sharing information, but I feel like I’ve seen this pattern in my past of these things being very explosive. I hope that’s not the case, but I guess I am a bit emotionally guarded and grounded in other aspects. I guess I hope they find me attractive.

The feelings have gone away, and I notice that it’s almost because resentment fills in the empty space. While we’re in person, I feel great and connected, but remotely it feels very distant. I don’t think that this is a bad thing and I hope this doesn’t seem like I’m blaming her or saying she’s doing something wrong, but at least for me I think I would want a partner who actively wants to interact with me. I really value when people initiate, and realizing that I’m playing these weird games of wanting to regulate my responses exhausts me. She doesn’t respond to all of my texts, and when she does it’s very delayed — and since I’m the kind of person to respond when I see a notification, and I have access to my phone a lot of the day, I end up responding way faster. I start to overthink this then as it feels like I’m like a dog waiting for her command. I start to realize that it’s a problem when I started again thinking about solutions as in randomizing delays for her notifications, so that I don’t respond quickly, but also I don’t get overwhelmed with unanswered notifications pending. But the easier solution is just take a step back mentally from them, I think she may be an avoidant type of person, and she’s great to hang out with — just maybe not to rely on. I want to restate to myself that I am not some desperate person hoping for someone to latch onto. I realized that my problem has somewhat shifted, where recently I’ve had to face the issue of politely rejecting people instead of ghosting them. I also have had resounding positive feedback from many different people, including people in relationships. I honestly just enjoy building my garden, and I’m not too preoccupied with catching butterflies. I think this is the best way to go about it, since chasing something often has ways of making it seem harder than it has to be. I guess if I confront the fear of being late to a relationship, I kinda realize how it feels scarier than it should be. If I’m happy regardless, why should it matter? And is it something that is so bad that should warrant neglecting other parts of my life to rush myself into someone who may not be that compatible with me? I know that I love easily, and that someone really doesn’t have to be even close to perfect for me to truly love them — and while that’s a good thing, that doesn’t mean that I should settle for someone who is below some reasonable threshold for satisficing. Plus I have the nice safety net of being a successful man, I think my odds only improve the more time goes on, so I don’t need to worry about missing some peak or anything like that. I guess I don’t have the heart in me to give my word that I’m giving up on N, but I think I’m stepping back. Maybe this is one of those friends who I get along with great in person and then I kinda forget about until they’re back in person. Like A, or F even. Same with S, L & N kinda, and the list goes on. I’m happy that I can feel these things, but it’s probably better saved for someone who feels similarly to me. Love shouldn’t feel like you are convincing them of it. I’ll happily wait until she’s as nervous as I am about her.

Today I went to pilates for the first time with D and K, and afterwards we ended up just talking for a long time. I ended up getting to know K a lot better, and she seems like she could be a good friend. I did notice, however, that especially with N, M, and K, they are absolute bombshells, and the kind of people that get put on pedestals as some sort of prize. But both getting to know them as people, and also learning about their flaws and shortcomings, I weirdly feel like it’s such a weird perspective shift. I think M is a great example, she has a few thousand people on her stories thirsting over her, and is conventionally very attractive and fetishized. But to me she’s a fucking dumbass that’s stubborn, a bit reckless, but well intentioned. When I think of her I don’t see an image of her body or anything like that, but I rather see her aruging with me about how alcohol is not a diuretic like I’d imagine a little sister would. Same with K, we talked a lot about socializing and the struggles of connecting to people, and how we both struggle with anxiety. And then I go home and look at her instagram after exchanging it and she looks like one of those ABG models. It’s so funny that these profiles you see online are slightly awkward goofy people in real life, that you have so much more in common than you’d think. I was crushing HARD on N today, and I think that’s kinda mellowed out after D brought me a bit back down to earth saying she doesn’t think N has a crush on me. I think it’s funny how someone may see N at a party or like that and think she’s an insane baddie (which she is), and they don’t know how she gets pissed when doing ass at the light-up square arcade game I dragged them to. Or how she is slightly awkward and does this high voice mocking thing. Or how she is subtly prideful about different things about her, and how she gently looks for that validation.

I think it’s a weird thing when people are so beautiful, I think similar to when someone is very unattractive it’s hard for people to get to know them. I think on both ends people don’t get to see who they are because of how they look. What a weird horseshoe spectrum.

I thought my crush was gone, but I think I’m kinda falling for N. It’s a shame because I don’t think she’s emotionally available, and I don’t think she feels the same way. But I can’t really help myself; every small hint feels like a possibility. She even hit me the way I like. And my god, she’s beautiful. She’s masculine in the ways that I like, and she’s feminine in the ways I like also. Plus smart, funny, and kind to me. I find myself wanting to be better for her in some ways, like I wanted to look better and I want to be stronger and push myself to impress her. She asked what love feels like and I feel like I could give her a better and better answer each time I interact with her. Or at least what a crush feels like. I guess I just really want to get to know her better.

N asked what love feels like, and I said the answers I have already thought of. But on my drive home I thought a bit more and I think love is the absence in your heart once it’s gone. I think you really feel love when you finally are faced with potentially losing it. But maybe that’s an unhealthy view of it. Am I saying I think love is when you don’t want to let something go? Because sometimes when you love you let them go for their sake. Maybe the pain is how you know you loved.

I think it’s not a brave thing to bottle things up. There’s a really weird notion that masculinity is the refusal to ask others for help or to reach out when struggling. But when I think about it, I think that’s the cowards approach, to afraid to be hurt from admitting you want help and someone saying no. It’s admitting that you would like someone else to be a part of your life. It’s admitting that someone matters to you and that they help. And I think that’s a terrifying thing for a lot of people, and so I think it’s very brave when people are willing to put themselves in harms way. I think it’s the same bravery that I feel proud of myself for, I’ve been abrasive and I’ve been myself and I’ve been weird and I’ve done my best to be unapologetic about it, and that authenticity has helped so much. But I don’t think I’m fully authentic, because when it gets late I feel this crash emotionally, and suddenly the little things get to me. Two people walking on ahead and I think about how I am the outsider and I am the first to go, and there is not a safe place for me where I know I am wanted. And I know that I’m wrong, and I know that it’s insecurity and delusion and it’s issues from childhood that I can do nothing but give myself sympathy for right now. And I guess I can also remind myself that it’s not true. But it sticks with me.

N asked me if I felt bad when people said I was big, and I told her that I never think that I’m big. How funny that is given my username, and I guess domain name lol. But I told her how I feel good about myself in the mirror when I feel happy, but then I put on clothing and I think I’m again just a small boy. I look around and I see men, and I see people with large arms and taller than me, and it doesn’t feel like they have to posture up or convince others that they should not be fucked with. But then I look at myself and I feel like I’m fighting and working so hard to fall short of what other people have by default. I’m doing so much to try to convince the world that I am a man. And so I kind of resigned to it, and so I take solace in the fact that I’m not really a man in the common eyes of society, and this gives me the freedom to be weird and feminine and strange. Look at this blog as an example. I wear stupid pieces of clothing, and I have very pronounced mannerisms and I’m very expressive. I don’t do this from full freedom though, I do this because I’ve kind of accepted that I’m not winning any performance, and so I have the freedom of losing. You’re not afraid to do things when you’ve already lost. And I don’t think that I’m someone that is easy to love, and I’m a little bit afraid for if I think that I am. Let’s say someone convinces me that I’m not that hard to love, then that means that I have a chance and then I’m afraid to fail the performance. And so there’s a kind of comfort in this thought.

My eyes are already closing and I noticed I was falling asleep good night

It’s three in the morning and I just got back from clubbing. The people I went with loved having me there, and even the people that we met and random strangers I danced with also felt the same. One guy even bought me a shot. One guy complimented my shoulders, saying that I must be hitting the shoulder press. I didn’t know what to say back, and I felt bad. I felt fucking bad. Not even in a guilty way, but again like it felt like someone’s lying to me, like the entire world had an inside joke where they all compliment me on the shit that I’m proud of that I don’t think is worth being proud of. This happens consistently enough that I know I’m fucking insane for feeling bad about it, this never happened before and now it’s happened twice in one week. Before I went to the club I even worked out shoulders, and I felt super proud, all the way until I actually looked at the photos I took. And then I felt like I had nothing to be happy about. And so I took solace in my take that I would enjoy the gym regardless of how it made me look. I should be happy. I should feel attractive and I should feel wanted and I should feel like the person that I’ve become is someone that I want to live as. But instead I wonder if I’m going to be here until the end of the year, in time for D to make her instagram post. I’ve weirdly fallen upwards, I’ve just decided to do the things that make me laugh, and other people like that. But then the problem is no matter how good things look, there will always be a moment where doubt can creep in and fully obscure all sun. N sat with her legs pressed against T, and I noticed that I didn’t even want to go sit with everyone else at the end of the night. My natural tendency is to push myself lower down. I set myself up to get more evidence that I just can’t be loved, and that I’m not worth it. And no one is going to go out of their way to include me like that, and so even though I probably am liked, I end up fabricating enough proof for me to want to go home and be like the way I am.

I thought if I was attractive things would change. I was right, things did change. People treat me better, and I get positive feedback constantly. But also I was wrong, because I refuse to be happy deep down. D said that someone had a similar personality to mine, and I immediately pushed back in my mind, because I wanted to validate the fact that she doesn’t know me past this one face. It’s just a photograph of this weird constantly changing shape that I am. All of the parts that are in the shade stay that way. Unseen, and hidden. Necessary for the shape, but ignored by design.

D on the ride back while drunk, kept talking about how amazing sisters are. She also didn’t believe that I was no contact with my sister. That hurt. I would love to have a sibling, one where I could know what’s fucking happening in their life. One that I could fucking talk to once a couple months. But instead I get to have this pseudo tragic backstory that people don’t buy. What a fun fucking party trick, I get to say how I’m no contact with my mom and my sister. And I get to say in the same joking tone I always use, because what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to fucking break down in front of people, am I supposed to tell them that I don’t think I can be loved and that I don’t have a model for it because I didn’t have parents in my eyes, hell I didn’t fucking have a life. I fully planned to kill myself constantly, and while I’m happy that I didn’t, a large part of me wishes that I didn’t have to keep convincing myself of that fact. God, why could I not have been loved. I wish I could have a hug, but instead I’ve come up with all of these surrogate methods that can keep me from remembering how fucking nice it would be to not be so deeply alone all the time.

R asked me to yell at her to go to the gym, and the first thing I came to my head was that she should just remember how much she hates herself, because that’s what I do. There’s no one else that I can hate, because there’s no one else there. And these feelings have to go somewhere. I tell myself that hurting will make me pure. I can somehow only feel proud of myself when I’m by myself. I just refuse to believe that anyone else could see me and feel proud. Just a big bundle of shame.

I hope I die of natural causes.