a stray thing

[bird-cherry13]

I'm so sick of it all.

She said she's not into me – yet she clearly interested. Is it my lack of understanding people? Is it her? She said she's just not into girls – yet she's joking about, she's flirting, she's tactile. She's not mine –

Yet she kissed me for two hours straight.

I just don't understand.

Once I have it – I have nothing, I'm not allowed to. Once I let it be – it's all mine, furnished as if she needs it badly.

Am I getting it wrong? Like there's a way of casually kissing somebody you don't like at all two hours. Or looking at them that way.

Am I delusional?

Are you really such a coward?

Will you ever get it?

I think I'm done. With your boys, problems, your god and your parents, your friends, who you kiss too, but different. Could you just leave me alone?

[bird-cherry13]

Getting stuck at the age of trauma is a real thing. I thought it was something like metaphor, but it's not. I still expect to see a 14-16 y.o. me in the mirror. I'm always confused by my weight, my height, my face, even my voice sometimes. How could it be? I shouldn't look like that, I shouldn't act like that, I'm weaker, smaller, I'm just a childe, I'm nothing to compare to others, I am forever that girl who was bullied.

And I feel so much pain every time I'm faced with this fact. I am older. I am stronger now and can stand up for myself. I know better now. Even if something horrible happens, now I have friends, I have voice, I have experience of being seen, of overcoming this problems, alone or not.

I needed that back then. Just why I couldn't have so little to protect myself?

Yet I think that if it were possible to put an adult in circumstances where they have the same restrictions, demands for them and the same surveillance, and are surrounded by the same violence, they would not be able to really cope either. No one can overcome such pressure easily. It's not a joke, this is psychological torture. I can compare this only to state violence??? Idk

Bullying is terribly harmful at a young age, especially when combined with violence from those who were supposed to help. I don't think I'll ever "laugh" at it, as I've been told. Literally in a cold sweat when I remember.

[bird-cherry13]

I think self-destruction is so appealing to us because it gives you sense of control over your life. This is not a new idea, I know. I just felt it today again, kind of "I'm scared, pissed and bored, what to do with myself?"

You want to know the resource of pain, want to know what will happen, want to connect cause and effect without all that conflicted messed up shit. "Who's in fault for that? Who fucked up our relationship/town/country/world? Would my word, my action change at least something? What to do?" – I don't know. I have no power over stuff, really. But here's my hands and here's my body – figuratively. I know who's in fault, who got hurt and what to do – or I at least feel like I do.

[bird-cherry13]

The urge to hate and blame yourself cuz who else you can control? Who else can you change?

[bird-cherry13]

Can people around just fucking leave me alone because it's too much love that doesn't fits my needs it's just brush really close and then leave me shattered without any satisfaction

[bird-cherry13]

Feel like I'm killing myself rn because it's close to 5 am but I just can't shut up

Why does it has to be so hard to get love I can't fucking chill with this girl around who's not interested in me but act otherwise

Was I so deprived of love?? idk idc want to kiss and to sleep

[bird-cherry13]

Ya know this feeling when you were having fun and then understood that it's about 4 am already and you fucked up with your fucking delusions

[bird-cherry13]

I sometimes think about my school friends. We knew each other from kindergarten. We don't talk anymore. They choose group of ppl who bullied me, and left me behind since then.

It's not that I hold grudges – I was busy with collecting myself back then, so I couldn't care less for this "betrayal". But sometimes I think, "How they remember me?".

Was it fine in their eyes? Did they saw what it did to me? I was falling apart, and people just watched. I was thinking about ending myself, and my best friend told me to just shut up because I'm scaring her.

One person apologized to me. Of the number close to thirty, only one.

She was bullied too, but in graduating classes, by the same people. I was in another class and didn't really know about it. And she understood what it means – to be alone, ashamed of yourself, boycotted and bullied by people who you thought was nice to you. She conveyed this apology through another person.

I didn't really need this apology. I was in another class, there was no one who knew me. I didn't speak much, but I was happy just to be invisible, talking friendly if needed.

I was still a wreck. And her apologies just gave me more complex feeling. I felt sorry for her, but at the same time couldn't forgive – what she did affected me really bad back then.

And my best friend didn't ever apologised for trying to be with me and with them in the same time. For insulting my other friend behind our back, for making me her maid, her psychiatrist, her mom and her hostage. She could blame me, punch me even. She still thinks she's a victim of my betrayal, because I left.

And I wonder, what happened now with all these people? I know, they've got families, jobs. And what do they feel? Do they ever think of school years? Do they feel ashamed of what they did?

I think, probably not. But we were good friends, ages ago. They knew me, I always forgave, I was there for them, supporting, helping. I never got that back.

Maybe they still proofs something with their job, husbands, wives, kids. I'm tired of proofing my worth.

I just sometimes think about kids who were so scared of being outsiders that they make me live in hell. And maybe they never thought about it, but I could never forget.

[bird-cherry13]

I became the one I hated, but not because I became a bad person. Because I started to live like I was forbidden to.

I was taught that this "ideal" people around, who care for their health, take rest, eat good food, make stuff, have friends, love them, care for them too, do sports for fun, have hobbies or interests, dreams, goals – it's just lazy, rich, or stupid people, because that's all means nothing. Just because my parents "didn't have time for my bullshit", they taught me that normal life is excess.

They made me such a comfortable doll who aspires to nothing and has no personality in public, has no needs and lives a wonderful life without having everything that normal people have.

I was also taught that I was stupid, weak, fat, and many other things. Too much of a loser to live a normal life.

Now I am trying to live my normal life. I go out for a run in the morning, I try to eat well, I spend money, I buy what I like, I do what brings little income, but what is important to me. I have friends. People like me. I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm a great student, and I know how to stand up for myself. I lost weight because I grew up and the weight now packaged like in an adult, not like a teenager. And because I've become more mobile. My face changed. And I changed the name by which I am addressed.

But I have a feeling that this person is not real. That I don't have the right to all this, I didn't deserve it. It's like I was born to be unhappy and mean like them, and when I'm happy – and I'm happy a lot – I do something forbidden.

I tried to fight their ideas about me, and I tried to fight for the right to be exactly the way they see me, but I got tired of it. I changed my name and everything else, not to escape, but to regain control. It's just doesn't about me. But then I don't know who I am anymore.

But I guess it's for me to decide.

[dailysunblog]

Cheap Love

He used to speak of love so highly.

he held loyalty like a banner,

claimed it mattered more than desire,

more than impulse.

he said real love stays,

that it doesn't flinch,

that it doesn't break when something easier walks by.

I built a world around those words.

I stood inside them like shelter.

But when the time came,

when it really mattered,

his love folded in on itself,

light as paper,

quick as a habit.

he handed it off to the next convenient smile

like it cost him nothing.

no weight. no pause.

as if all it took

was availability.

And then one night,

without warning,

his voice broke that world apart.

I heard him on the phone

calm, certain,

"I love her."

as if I wasn’t real,

as if everything he’d ever told me

was some story he’d already forgotten.

It wasn’t just betrayal.

It was the way he said it.

no hesitation.

no shame.

no mercy.

like he wanted me to hear.

like he wanted the knife to twist.

It wasn’t grief that hollowed me

it was the speed.

the ease with which he replaced what he once called precious.

no time to mourn,

no space to ache.

just a new name

spoken with the same softness

he once used on me.

His love turned out to be a language he speaks to anyone

who’s there at the right moment.

not a vow,

not a choice,

just a reflex,

to not feel lonely.

I used to think he was careful with his heart.

now I see

he gives it to whoever's standing closest,

whoever doesn’t ask for too much,

whoever fits into the silence I left.

Maybe love, for him,

was only ever something to say,

never something to keep.

It never mattered how deeply I loved him

It only mattered how easy it was for him

to forget.

[bird-cherry13]

It happened two years ago.

Two years passed.

It's just so hard to believe, like it was another life. When I think about things that happend before, it even more strange. It's not awful now, just strange.

I'm so young now, back then I was just a little girl. Yes, I was an adult legally, but I was only eighteen when we got acquainted. And yes, you weren't much older, a year older than me. You probably wasn't "mature" too.

But I still don't understand how could you do that to me.

I was new there, you seemed to be everybody's friend. I was scared, afraid to seem stupid or not cool enough. At that time, my friends were not around, we did not talk, adults never were too, I was all by myself with nothing to do. And then I met you.

You were so nice, funny, and understanding. I told you about everything, every little problem I have. You told me a bit too. You insist on calls, videocalls, playing together, texting... then virt. and nudes. And then started saying that you love me. That you'll always be there. That I'm the only one who brings you happiness. That I'm your oxygen. So I did everything you want, because I thought that you probably the only person in the whole world who's still talks to me, and even more – thinks that I'm cool. I was with you 24/7, because you were sad and depressed. Played games you want me to play, even when I was bored af and told you so. Tried to look happy with all you did. I ignored all the misogynistic and scary shit you were saying. Because, well, you were a bit older and longer in this community, and also a woman – so maybe I'm overreacting.

I don't know when it became "dirty secret". I don't know when it started to hurt me. Probably from the very beginning, but I was so vulnerable and used to mistreat that I didn't see that for a while.

Then I became a student – which made me incredibly happy, and I chattered about it all the time. Art college took up all my time, and I was alternately glad and disappointed. I was making time to talk, I was ashamed of devoting my time to myself, I longed to go back every minute just to talk to you. But to my surprise, you didn't rush to me when I returned. You didn't respond to me, didn't read my messages. But everything was "fine".

Just so that in a few months you would post that you were offered to date someone.

I was confused. How? We're already dating, no? You'd talk to me personally if it was the matter, right? Like you always told you would. So I'm probably reading it wrong?

Then it turned out that now she was on the phone with you while we were texting. And then you refused to talk to me honestly, answering my questions. You sabotaged, humiliatingly made me wait for hour and didn't go to bed, even though I had to study early, just for you to try to change the subject and steer the conversation away from a direct answer.

That I mean nothing to you.

Months later, I found out that at that time you were texting our mutual friend that I was crazy and you didn't know how to tell me that you actually had a girlfriend.

Well, I thought I was your girlfriend.

But it seems I was just a girl you love-bombed, then harassed, forced to virt with you, begged for nudes and told that you couldn't cope without her and would hurt yourself if she went to bed. The girl you put in danger when you didn't watch your language and could tell my relatives my orientation. The girl you later slandered and distorted everything that happened, shaming her in front of her friends and leaking her private messages. Besides, you almost killed her mental health in the end and worsened her cptsd for a year or so – knowing that you are repeating the events that caused her trauma.

And all my "sacrifices to you" were nothing but bullshit. You used me. That's all you did.

And the most important – I wasn't first. And probably wasn't last.

You were a parasite, sucking all my life from me. You deliberately didn't give a name to this relationship and evaded the answer when I asked before. You deliberately insisted after the refusals. You broke me on purpose.

And I'm glad that your betrayal made me left you, block you, and after some time – told everybody what you did. Because I knew you would come back – you stalked all your old friends and exes.

I told you to go to hell.

[bird-cherry13]

I wrote this post because I've recently become interested in investigative journalism about abuse and harassment against women. And I felt sick from a thought that the stories of grooming children so clearly resonate with me. Like that's what happened to me. Yes, she wasn't much older, but the way she positioned herself, the way she behaved, the way my trauma made me more "childish" and vulnerable – it made everything work in a similar way. It's not "that bad", of course. But I get angry when I think about it. I'm furious. If It wasn't a long-distance relationship story, or if I didn't postpone my trip to her – what would happen? Would she force me to have sex? A year of my life, or even two, was given to someone who insinuated herself into my trust and betrayed me no worse than the men she condemned with me. Awful.

[bird-cherry13]

It happened two years ago.

Two years passed.

It's just so hard to believe, like it was another life. When I think about things that happend before, it even more strange. It's not awful now, just strange.

I'm so young now, back then I was just a little girl. Yes, I was an adult legally, but I was only eighteen when we got acquainted. And yes, you weren't much older, a year older than me. You probably wasn't "mature" too.

But I still don't understand how could you do that to me.

I was new there, you seemed to be everybody's friend. I was scared, afraid to seem stupid or not cool enough. At that time, my friends were not around, we did not talk, adults never were too, I was all by myself with nothing to do. And then I met you.

You were so nice, funny, and understanding. I told you about everything, every little problem I have. You told me a bit too. You insist on calls, videocalls, playing together, texting... then virt. and nudes. And then started saying that you love me. That you'll always be there. That I'm the only one who brings you happiness. That I'm your oxygen. So I did everything you want, because I thought that you probably the only person in the whole world who's still talks to me, and even more – thinks that I'm cool. I was with you 24/7, because you were sad and depressed. Played games you want me to play, even when I was bored af and told you so. Tried to look happy with all you did. I ignored all the misogynistic and scary shit you were saying. Because, well, you were a bit older and longer in this community, and also a woman – so maybe I'm overreacting.

I don't know when it became "dirty secret". I don't know when it started to hurt me. Probably from the very beginning, but I was so vulnerable and used to mistreat that I didn't see that for a while.

Then I became a student – which made me incredibly happy, and I chattered about it all the time. Art college took up all my time, and I was alternately glad and disappointed. I was making time to talk, I was ashamed of devoting my time to myself, I longed to go back every minute just to talk to you. But to my surprise, you didn't rush to me when I returned. You didn't respond to me, didn't read my messages. But everything was "fine".

Just so that in a few months you would post that you were offered to date someone.

I was confused. How? We're already dating, no? You'd talk to me personally if it was the matter, right? Like you always told you would. So I'm probably reading it wrong?

Then it turned out that now she was on the phone with you while we were texting. And then you refused to talk to me honestly, answering my questions. You sabotaged, humiliatingly made me wait for hour and didn't go to bed, even though I had to study early, just for you to try to change the subject and steer the conversation away from a direct answer.

That I mean nothing to you.

Months later, I found out that at that time you were texting our mutual friend that I was crazy and you didn't know how to tell me that you actually had a girlfriend.

Well, I thought I was your girlfriend.

But it seems I was just a girl you love-bombed, then harassed, forced to virt with you, begged for nudes and told that you couldn't cope without her and would hurt yourself if she went to bed. The girl you put in danger when you didn't watch your language and could tell my relatives my orientation. The girl you later slandered and distorted everything that happened, shaming her in front of her friends and leaking her private messages. Besides, you almost killed her mental health in the end and worsened her cptsd for a year or so – knowing that you are repeating the events that caused her trauma.

And all my "sacrifices to you" were nothing but bullshit. You used me. That's all you did.

And the most important – I wasn't first. And probably wasn't last.

You were a parasite, sucking all my life from me. You deliberately didn't give a name to this relationship and evaded the answer when I asked before. You deliberately insisted after the refusals. You broke me on purpose.

And I'm glad that your betrayal made me left you, block you, and after some time – told everybody what you did. Because I knew you would come back – you stalked all your old friends and exes.

I told you to go to hell.

[bird-cherry13]

yappi yappi I'm home alone!! *rotting in bed for hours without food with cheap brain stimulation from internet feeling how my body falling apart without any real actions*

[bird-cherry13]

What on earth makes people think that making fun of people is soothing? Or that you will calm down because of the fact that they, unlike you, have succeeded (following by an assumption why they are doing well and why you are not). I don't give a shit. I didn't ask. Nobody here asked. They come to you to to assert themself at your expense and then they're like "wow you're so aggressive honey. you just shouldn't be shy and passive and people will listen. and you don't have to be dramatic about it." Making conclusions so soon!

Mind your own business. Especially, when you're wrong.

[bird-cherry13]

I can walk, talk, breathe, live now. I am a real person. I'm not some dog, or a doll, or a crutch for others. But I keep that stray thing inside, that was used, rejected, denied love, abused. She's there. And now she's under my protection, she's my responsibility. I'm trying really hard to keep you happy, dear. This world is a shitty place, but I'll keep finding good. Because even in this we can live, prosper, rejoice.

[bird-cherry13]

This "cancel culture" sometimes is too much about "let's forget that really bad things exist" than "let's say it's bad"

I mean, real criminals are not "cancelled" in the end, they're bleached from all the dirty things they did, as if one wave of hate atones for their sins. Because, well, "they have good in them". Somewhere VERY deep, I guess, if harassing people can be justified.

[bird-cherry13]

If you loved me, why were you so hateful?

So criticizing, so petty?

If when I love

I am forgiving and at peace?