Nodus Tollens

36, easily ignored or left behind

[atidge2far]

I’m logging off and deleting the app for a while. Who knows if I’ll ever be back.

Thanks for being a void to scream into.

Sometimes it helped other times it didn’t, but my desire to go to parts of this place where I guess it hurts to be even after all this time - means I don’t think there’s anything here for me anymore, at least for now.

And tbh I’ve not had engagement on here in a while so the universe just telling me it’s okay to go.

[atidge2far]

How easy is it in the end to let your words just be lies?

How easy is it for you to be silent when you knew you’d never have to look me in the eyes?

How easy is it for each evolving minute, hour, day, then week throb on by?

All like blistered questions that could mar my skin, while I just waited never understanding why.

How quiet is it when I stop reaching, asking to see you, or meet?

How quiet is it when I don’t speak to fill the air or desperately seek someone new to greet?

How quiet is it when I nervously wait to learn - if it’s something imagined, or another thing ending up just one way?

Those questions that would ring louder - than any I could ever bring myself to say.

How human is it to long to be seen as you truly are?

How human is it to want to be chased, pursued, desired? Even wished for on a shooting star?

How human it is to want things easier? finally find your way after ravaging, restless storms -

To want to grow beyond old patterns, healing and finding newer, kinder “norms.”

How slowly now the quiet grows—from ache to something that just lives within my chest;

How slowly I am learning unanswered things are answered when at last just left to rest;

How slowly every question has bled away some sting, and I’ve hardened to their pain—

I just hope I can endure till they fade like footprints slowly softened by the rain.

[atidge2far]

I went and sat outside your apartment for a beat tonight,

like if I waited long enough, the world might set it right.

Like maybe you’d appear - just soft, just real, just near,

and I could swallow down the ache or at least it would disappear.

It’s stupid, yeah….I know it makes no sense - and I hate how I still do-

these little rituals,bargains, with the universe is - like it could change anything for you-

But I walked past and sat, and tried to breathe you in,

like air could be a time machine for where you’d definitely been.

Because… once I was wanted - once I was welcome too,

like home was something easy and I could always find my way into.

Like love was not a locked door I had to earn or wait for ,

like I could just exist, and not be “take your turn. Or feel any request is just ignored,

And now I’m just… adjusted. I’m a maybe. I’m a past

A thing that barely is a memory- a reference in the margins for which nobody asked.

A “I want to but I won’t ,” “a back pocket just for now”

The something more to tell me - but perhaps you’ll never know how .

And Ill still try find another place to fit, I swear I will,

If I have to sand down my sharpest parts, If my wants are just too shrill

I’ll learn to be convenient, keep working long on finding who I’m not “too much,” among…

For now I learnt I won’t starve in silence- coz I have place where I belong.

And it’s not that my friends don’t love me—Gods I know they do,

they show up in the ways they can, they always pull me through.

But I hate the way it looks, like their love can’t make me whole,

like I’m greedy for affection - and I’ve got some unending appetite in my soul.

It isn’t them. It isn’t I need “more.” It isn’t “prove you care,”

it’s that my chest is full of knives and perhaps no one sees them there.

It’s that my stupid capacity for pain has hit its brim,

and now the smallest thing and moment alone can make the world go dim.

So every text that doesn’t come, every pause that doesn’t end,

every “busy,” every “later,” every silence from someone I still want as friend—

it lands like I’m not wanted, like I’m easy to erase,

like I’m only ever welcome if I take up zero space.

And I’m tired of being shifted. I’m tired of being “fine.”

Tired of being brave in ways that slowly make me blind.

Tired of doing all the right things, patient, sweet, polite—

while grief keeps licking at my heels like it’s tied around my tight.

So yeah, I sat outside your place, like fate might take the wheel,

like some small coincidence could make the hurt feel real.

Like maybe you’d be walking home, or step out to get a midnight snack.

and see me like you used to—before the only place there was for me was well and truely in the back,

Not to beg. Not to return. Not to undo the scar—

Just coz I don’t know what to do and I just wanted to be near where I know you are.

Just to share a bit of air that maybe you’ll breathe too,

so I can go back home and keep trying to follow through.

I went and sat outside your apartment for a beat tonight,

and let the streetlight hold me - because I knew It wasn’t right.

It’s stupid, but I walked past, and sat, and stayed a while—

In the hopes that soon I can muster up goodbye, and i won’t miss you behind every smile.

[ashes2caches]

transfems with pink hair are so cute and awesome. 2026 should be the year of pink. everyone become more pink now.

[atidge2far]

So I will remember we kissed a handful times,

I’ll remembe, I felt you spark —

that warmth that lit the room around

and never dimmed even in the dark.

You danced like every beat was joy,

you smiled like no one’s spare —

and somehow in a crowded bar

I always felt you there.

So holding this news is hard, it hurts,

It’s something that I hate —

a name that should be coupled to laughter still

Is now written with a weight.

of shock, of tears, of blurry memories,

and all we didn’t get to say —

of grief that sweeps in sideways when

a light has somehow just gone away.

So thank you for the moments shared,

for kisses, steps, and smiles and silly observances of each others hair.

I’ll try carry you to every dance floor that’s good enough,

And dance with whatever ghost of you will meet me there.

Rest in peace, Jhubin

[garvallade]

not to be kinky, but do you wanna hug

[onyxeatsu]

need someone to gaze at when its 4 am and im the only one still up . need to stare at their rising chest and soft expression until i eventually drift off. need to wake at 1 pm to a "you finally up, love?" and cuddles.

[atidge2far]

And just like that…

I’m struggling with the silence again.

When everything is later or gets put “in the back pocket,” it doesn’t feel like later — it feels like farther and farther away. Probably a never.

I hear the reminders and empathy echo it’s not about me but maybe about capacity, and maybe it’s true that loving someone like me is too much , right now and maybe forever.

But it still hurts to feel like there isn’t enough space or A container to hold what I bring. Instead I’m just unwanted.

[cherryflavoredgirlll]

i know i should stop touching myself to the thought of you but i can’t

[unstablecryptid]

tell your dick that my dick said hello

[pro-gay]

we need to bring back h*terophobic humor, the world needs it

[pro-gay]

[atidge2far]

I’m learning how to breathe again without the armour I once wore,

the walls I hid behind instead of naming what shook me to the core.

Back then I’d choke on simple truths, too scared you’d leave if I was real -

and every silence that I chose became a bruise you had to feel.

And yes - when doubt or distance came, I reached for comfort not from you;

I tried to fill the gaps with noise instead of saying, “don’t you want me too?”

I sought attention when I panicked, craving proof that I was enough;

and every time I looked away, I know I made our loving tough.

I didn’t show you how I burned for you, or how you lit me bright;

I kept the tender parts half-hidden, thinking safety lived in keeping quiet.

But holding back just bred confusion, made you question what was true -

and now I see the cracks that spread were mostly ones I handed you.

So if I’m honest: part of our end was sparked by things I couldn’t name -

being truly seen felt dangerous, unsure, wrapped in a shame that wasn’t yours to claim.

I wish I’d loved you out loud then, instead of loving from my shell -

but wishing won’t undo the past; it only shows me where I fell.

And yet - I’m not just guilt and grief. I’m proud I’m changing more each day,

learning how to speak the truth instead of running far away.

I’m building steadiness inside, a calm I used to only fake -

the kind of strength that doesn’t lash, or grasp, or crumble when I shake.

I won’t pretend I don’t still hope you’ll one day see who I became -

a version who won’t harm you twice, who holds my love with courage, without shame.

But even if the paths diverge and you’re not mine in round two’s view -

I’ll still be glad becoming someone good means something, even without you.

And maybe that’s the truest part: the work I do, the heart I mend,

is for a future I can stand in. whether you’re beside me, or just a friend.

But if you ever feel my growth, if calmness reaches out from me -

I hope it feels like gentleness, safe for you to engage -

just truth.

Just honesty.

[ruinedchildhood]

Me

[whitepeopletwitter]

[earhartsease]

okay, and lastly Any Other Business? no? right, meeting adjourned, time for the cuddlepile

[remanence-of-love]

[smokingbomber]

[the-babashook]

Considering taking up this hobby I’ve heard a lot about. It’s called gay sex