My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee. I’m a 27 years old graduate of Chicago Law School living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am a heterosexual Christian, but am an ally to the LGBT community. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
These are all things my followers should know about me, so why am I telling you this? Well... what if I told you it was all a lie? I’m sure this is coming as a shock to a lot of you, and I sincerely apologize to everyone I’ve hurt with my deception. It is my hope that this post will clear up any misconceptions that have been spread about me, whether I spread them myself or otherwise, and that in the future there will be no animosity between us. I don’t expect to be forgiven nor do I deserve it, but if there is one thing I learned from my time in the church it is that all I can do is ask for mercy and hope for the best.
But first... I think an explanation is in order. If all that isn’t the truth, then what is?
It all starts in college, that nebulous period of my life that everyone keeps asking about and I keep bringing up. Before I went to university, I had always been completely unremarkable. I had always had the kind of fair weather friends who enjoyed my company, but never felt to invested in me. Combined with my status as a middle child, I always felt like I had something to prove to get people to like me. I would say and think whatever I needed to for them to stick around another day, and I’m sure you are familiar with what that means for teenage boys. I acted immaturely because it was what was expected... and anything outside of that was looked down upon it even forbidden. I never thought much of it at the time, but I realize now that I wasn’t allowed much self-expression when I was always trying to conform to their standards.
Everything changed when I met him.
My assigned college roommate, Anton, was everything my years of conditioning had taught me to distrust. Despite his tall stature, he was emotional and sensitive... even vulnerable. Even so, he wasn’t afraid to be unabashedly himself. The first thing that struck me as unusual about him was his clothing... he almost always wore pastel pink or yellow and I hardly ever saw him without his long, checkered scarf. His nails were always painted with a clear, glittery polish, and I don’t think he ever skipped a shower in his life. His hair was always soft and smelled like strawberry even at a distance... all this to say he immediately struck me as fruity so I wanted nothing to do with him, at least initially.
Despite his kindness to me, I would always respond with either the cold shoulder or open scorn, which only amplified the more I learned about him. I discovered pretty quickly that he was a furry, since one day I came home from a day of classes to find a decapitated pink cat head on our couch. He patiently explained the whole culture to me while I glared at him skeptically, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He even brought out his paws and tail and told me he was saving up for a full suit despite my open disgust. Looking back, I still have no clue why he put up with me during that time.
Another curious aspect of Anton’s life was his addiction to a certain television series called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” His room was filled with merchandise from stuffed animals to figurines, and I had nothing but disdain for the tacky and embarrassing decoration. I was afraid that if I ever brought a girl over to our apartment she would notice and make all sorts of incorrect assumptions... I couldn’t handle the embarrassment. I tried on multiple occasions to convince him to hide them in a secret box or something, but he always just smiled and shook his head. I even tried to sneak into his room and collect all the ponies for donation once, but he had anticipated this and hid a playful trap for me... I reached forward to grab one of his overpriced statues and immediately got a face full of multi-colored snakes. I was livid of course, despite it being my own fault for trying to pawn of his collection in the first place, but he wasn’t even phased by my tirade. I suppose he was 6’5” and I was (and still am) only 5′7″... but still, I had at least expected him to be somewhat apologetic if not fearful. Instead, he just laughed and told me I should watch the show with him sometime. I obviously had no intentions of taking him up on his ludicrous offer... until he promised that if I didn’t enjoy the show, he would move all of his ponies into a case that he would throw a big curtain on whenever I said the word. I reluctantly agreed on those conditions, positive that this was a bet I couldn’t lose.
I still remember that night like it was yesterday. He lead me into the pony chamber and sat down on his bed, taking out his laptop to pull up his favorite episode. It was “The Canterlot Wedding” two part season finale, and although I initially protested that I only agreed to watch one episode, I eventually relented once he reminded me what the prize was. I was hesitant to sit beside him on his bed and lean over his shoulder to look at the small screen, but he assured me that it didn’t bother him at all. I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he felt about it... it was more so my own pride I was worried about. Nevertheless, I sat through the whole episode with him despite myself. Although I was disturbed by the tendency for his long and curly hair to gravitate into my mouth while I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I found the episode to be surprisingly enjoyable. The song in particular surprised me with it’s musicality... by the end of it I didn’t want to leave, but I was far too embarrassed to admit that to him earnestly. I told him I was interested in the show purely for the songs and that it could benefit my studies as a music major, but that he still had to uphold his end of the bargain since I was by no means enjoying it. He just smiled and put on another episode, and before I knew it the sun was rising outside his window. I realized just how tired I was and turned to tell him I would be going to bed only to discover he had fallen asleep. I began to suspect that he must have been asleep for several hours, letting the auto-play functionality do his job for him while he rested up for his exams. Although I was scandalized, I was impressed by his tactical prowess... he had managed to trap me in his room, since I couldn’t move from my spot without disturbing his slumber, and he didn’t even have to be awake to do it. Begrudgingly, I spent the rest of his room, until eventually the faint aroma of strawberries lured me into the world of dreams...
This arrangement continued for quite some time. When I got home from my classes, Anton would ask me if I wanted to watch some My Little Pony with him and I only agreed so long as he put the curtain over the cabinet next time I asked. He always obliged whenever I asked him to conceal his collection, but eventually I stopped asking for him to do so and only reminded him not to break our contract before every episode out of habit. It became a ritual for the two of us to do this every night, and even once we had finished all of the episodes we would just watch them again. I found that I was becoming endeared to this eccentric man... and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell a bit in my chest whenever he would run his fingers through his hair or tighten his scarf around his neck. I told myself it was nothing... but it wouldn’t remain that way for long.
I don’t know what possessed me, but one night I thought I would get to know Anton a little better. I started by asking if he was single, which to me seemed like an innocuous question, but the very fact I was asking seemed to amuse him. He told me that he was having trouble finding a guy who wasn’t immediately turned off by all the ponies, and I made sure to snidely comment that he shouldn’t be going out with guys anyway even though it made my heart skip a beat when he said that, as well as mention that if he would just give up his collection there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he asked me the same thing: how was my love life going, especially considering my new hobby? I couldn’t help but get flustered and start making excuses. I told him that there was no shortage of girls lined up to date me, but that I just wasn’t ready to make a commitment yet. I spun a whole story about how a girlfriend would only hold me back... I almost forgot that the standard that Anton accepted was completely different from my old teenage friends. He wasn’t impressed that girls were apparently lining up to get a piece of me... he just seemed amused that I thought such a thing was realistic, much less desirable. He didn’t understand that compulsive need to lie at all... he thought it would be better if more guys admitted that they were vulnerable. That was the first time I’d ever heard someone say something like that...
I suddenly felt extremely exposed, and before I knew it my eyes were full of tears. My first instinct was to cover my face with my sleeve and hide my shame, but he was already firmly gripping my arm and holding it in place. He told me that I didn’t need to hide anything from him. He asked me if there was anything he could do to help me... and so for what felt like the first time in my life, I told the truth.
It was supposed to be just to try it. I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, I just thought that if I got it out of my system all of the unnecessary feelings would finally stop tormenting me... but all they did was grow stronger. I kept telling him that I was still looking for a girlfriend and that once I got one this whole arrangement would end, but eventually I realized that there was no point in lying to myself anymore. I wasn’t ever even sleeping in my own room anymore. I hadn’t so much as glanced at any dating websites in weeks. I was committed, whether I wanted to admit it or not... and I didn’t want to admit it. I only wish that I had told him how I really felt when I had the chance...
One of the many things we started to share, which seemed the most inconsequential to me at the time, was a webpage. Anton was the owner of a small subreddit dedicated to My Little Pony fursuits, and he asked me if I would be willing to help him moderate. It wasn’t something I felt qualified to speak as an authority on, since even as I became more open about my love for ponies I still didn’t really feel connected to furry culture despite accompanying him to several conventions, but I was willing to do basically anything just to please him. My job was mostly to stop people from publicly “yiffing,” and although it was a grueling line of work it wasn’t thankless. Anton was a poet with words of affirmation. Many of the compliments he paid me were certainly undeserved, but they motivated me more than anything else ever had... but I got too zealous.
There was a certain user on the server who for the sake of protecting privacy, we shall call XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX. As a member of the subreddit they were of course a brony and a furry, but what made them stand out was their dedication to the Flutterdash ship. They were constantly posting couple’s cosplays of themselves dressed as Rainbow Dash, but the Fluttershy in each picture was always different. They were also exceptionally sociable and aggressively tried to make friends with everyone on the tiny subreddit... Anton and I included. I wasn’t so keen on pursuing another friendship that could very well ruin my reputation, but of course Anton was immediately taken with the idea. The two of them exchanged contacts and hit it off instantly, and I started having trouble sleeping at night because he was awake in the early hours of the morning texting his friend in another timezone. He always paid me just as much attention as always during the daytime, but once he saw that his new friend was online he would crawl out of bed to go converse with them in another room. He was trying so hard to be considerate of me, and perhaps it was selfish for me to expect that I would always be able to sense his warmth and scent beside me while I slept... but at the time I was blinded by jealousy.
One fateful morning, he excitedly woke me up to tell me that XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX had gifted him tickets to a major convention, and that the two of them were planning to cosplay Flutterdash together. He apologetically explained that he would be gone for a few days since the convention was halfway across the country, but sensing the disturbance within me he assured me that he could probably convince his friend to let me tag along as Applejack... she was always my least favorite.
It didn’t matter what Anton said to encourage me, because I was never going to accept any consolation until this threat to our sacred relationship was eliminated. I had to find a way to get rid of XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX by any means necessary...
In a fit of rage, I whipped out the ban hammer and beat my rival to death with it, metaphorically speaking. It was a blatant abuse of my privilege as a moderator and I am ashamed to admit it now... but at the time all that mattered was covering up the evidence. I knew I had to come up with an excuse for why I had banned them, so I added a new rule to the subreddit: Flutterdash was prohibited. The news was not met with acceptance from the other members of the community. To some more in the loop with the situation, it was obvious that I had only banned XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX because of a petty personal dispute, but others saw it as nothing but an unfair rule. I was accused of being biased towards other ships like Flutterchord or Appledash and that I needed to accept other people’s ship preferences, or even that I was homophobic and couldn’t handle the thought of lesbian characters in my favorite show. Chants of “mods are gay” could be heard across the subreddit from all sides of the debate, and everyone was rallying for Anton to remove me as a tyrannical moderator. Sound familiar? I can’t help but notice some similarities between my situation and Mo the one over at Kristahlia Week... maybe that is why the drama captivated me so.
Anton tried to reason with me, bless his heart, but at this point I had completely devolved back into my screaming teenager mentality to cope with all the rejection. He was obviously disappointed in me for what I had done but he had no reason to believe it would ruin us... he couldn’t have handled it better. It really was my fault that things happened the way they did, but I refused to take accountability. What I told him still haunts my conscience to this day, even six years later.
I told him that I never loved him, and that I was only using his companionship to fulfill my carnal desires. I told him that I didn’t care about what he did with his life as long as he didn’t do anything that kept him away from me. I even told him that I still thought he was disgusting and embarrassing. And the worst thing is... in that moment I meant every word. I was so selfish... I genuinely forgot that I loved him and treated him like he only existed to serve me. My actions were truly despicable and I deserved to suffer for it... and I did.
For the first time, I saw Anton cry. I should have been there to comfort him like he did for me on that fateful night, but instead I let him run out of the house to go suffer by himself. By the time I realized how horrible I was acting, it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. I came home the next day to discover all the ponies in the apartment finally gone... isn’t that what I had wanted? My moderator status on the subreddit had been stripped away, and I had been banned by all of the members of the group on nearly every social media platform. Another classmate later informed me that Anton had transferred to a different college... and that was the end. I have no idea what happened to him after that, but I can only hope he is doing well.
Instead of taking this as an omen that I should improve my behavior, I began to become even more bitter than I was before I met Anton. I acted like my relationship with him was just an experimental phase that was doomed to fail from the start, and soon I was denying that it ever even happened at all. I convinced myself that the problem in our relationship was that I wasn’t supposed to be with men, and so I began to insist that I was straight and aggressively seek out relationships with women just to prove it to myself. I also started searching for strict moral codes that could give direction to my life... which is when I found the Church. I was attracted to their beliefs because they gave a very clear outline for how someone’s life should go and promised ultimate happiness to anyone who could fulfill the requirements, so I began to obsess over meeting those requirements. I wanted a Christian wife that could bear me many children not because that is how I wanted to live my life, but because that is how other people wanted me to live my life... and all I wanted was for others to tell me I was doing something right.
The congregation was distrusting if me at first, and although they never said it to my face I know it was because they were aware of my past. Hardly a woman would come near me, and looking back on it I can’t say I blame them. The ones who were desperate enough for a husband to give me a shot were quirky repulsed by my egotistical behavior, which certainly didn’t help my reputation. Throughout all this, I still somehow told myself I was the victim because I didn’t want to admit that I had become the villain again.
For a long time, the only person in the parish who would willingly hold a conversation with me was Lana. She was a fellow member of the choir and a devout believer in God, but she was often judged by the rest of the congregation for being an open lesbian despite her faith. She tried to convince me on several occasions that I didn’t have to perform any sort of identity to impress anyone and that I should “just be myself,” but I insisted that I knew what I was talking about. Eventually, she decided my well-being wasn’t her responsibility and gave up on trying to reason with me, but nonetheless she still treated me more kindly then many of the other churchgoers.
I believe that my “dark past” is what drew Gabriella to me in the first place. She likely hoped that we could act as covers for each other until she figured some way out of her situation, but unfortunately I was too far gone to be of any help. I convinced myself that she was really in love with me and that she would be walking down the aisle soon enough. Whether or not I was really interested in her or just interested in what she represented I’m still not sure... but she truly was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have to suffer through my baggage. When she left me I was truly devastated... so much so that I even began to go through another crisis of belief that I recorded on this very blog. All I have to add is that I no longer bear any resentment towards Lana or Gabriella, and only wish them the best of luck.
My relationship with Krissy began almost immediately after my breakup with Gabriella. I was desperate to regain the status I supposed that I had lost along with my girlfriend, so I latched onto the first woman who showed me any sort of positive attention. Her death and my downward spiral are all well-documented on this blog. I didn’t want to blame myself for her passing as well, so I developed a conspiracy to rationalize the whole ordeal. I even tried to act like a completely different person to try to keep the blame as mentally distant from myself as possible, but that didn’t work either. In the end, this is my cross to bear alone.
So that brings us to now. What will become of allygodot? The truth is, I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t think that is the most important thing right now. I realized last night when I was looking at that art of Diego and Godot as Happy Tree Friends characters that I desperately wanted to be anyone other than myself... it really opened my eyes to the level of repression that had been burdening me since the incident six years ago. I realized that if I wanted to change, sitting around and thinking about how things could hypothetically be different isn’t going to do anything. If I want to make progress and truly become a better person, I’m going to have to act better, not just tell myself that I am. From now on, I will be defining myself on my actions and not my beliefs, as wise man once said. I hope that soon, I will have become a good enough person to meet Anton face to face again... I still love him after all these years, and even though I expect that he justifiably won’t want anything to do with me anymore, I still think that it is a guilt that needs to be resolved.
If I ever come back to this blog, it’ll be as a different Adam to the one you thought that you knew. It’ll be as the Adam I’m trying to become... the true Adam that I know exists deep within me... Not allygodot, but as proudgodot.
My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee or Godot. I’m a 27 years old former music student living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am bisexual. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
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