here lies

They Can't Love You (x) Let me tell you about the type of person that can rob years of your life if you don't see them clearly. This is not the loud, obvious person, this is one who looks normal, charming enough, can hold a conversation, can say all the right things... for the moment. But here's the problem: they have no depth, no emotional capacity, no ability to bond. They live on the surface and what they do is they mirror what you want in the beginning but they can't sustain it. So you are over here trying to build a life and they are just passing time. You bring everything to the table, you bring love, you bring connection, you bring friendships, you bring opportunities and they take it all, but cannot hold it. And then one day they run, like none of it mattered, and you sit there thinking "how can someone do this?" I'll tell you how, because you were trying to build a life with someone who only knows how to live in moments. They don't destroy your life because they're powerful, they destroy it because they're empty, and empty people don't build, they consume. And the most dangerous part? You will think if you just love them enough, they become the person who you see in flashes. They won't. Because they lack the capacity and no matter how good you are, you'll never be enough for somebody who is not capable of love.

I don't think there's a good solution to "changing someone's access to you by stopping overextending yourself".

It implies, I guess, a level of desire or interest in you, in the first place (I'm not talking about romantic love necessarily, as this applies to any kind of relational dynamic). As if once you cease pouring in the connection you'll be flooded with complaints, resentment or remarks. In my case, people simply moved on and I was the one who had to adjust.

It hurts.

As if it doesn't matter whether I show up or not, it's like I don't exist.

Like two parallel lines that never really touch, no matter how much effort I put into closing the gap. Once I stop, the other line seem to keep on going, unchanging.

Maybe this is other people's own abandonment wounds, and their own defenses and ways to cope. Expecting someone to drop the ball and leave them, so why even bother? Why make an effort, right? This is an explanation for their behaviour, it doesn't make it a good thing though.

In regards to close, deep connections, it's hard to feel like I don't belong anywhere and I keep on having to do life on my own. I use copious amounts of patience and "giving it time" to try and deepen my current connections but when I pause and observe, I feel like I'm being left behind.

This is on me, obviously. Being around people who don't reciprocate is not good for me. I really have to move on and be open to finding new people, but it's hard to do that. I'm exhausted.

I'm old enough. I've met enough new people. I've tried enough new things. I've gone to enough new places. I think I've done much more than I actually, physically, could.

Receiving reciprocity from my connections feels like chasing a fantasy.

It's quite bleak when I think back and realize how innocently focused on romance I was, when the issues ran deep, deep down. Like the goal posts kept moving and here we are.

With the knowledge and awareness of having done enough, I guess I can sit down in silence and cry for once? Because even if you do all the right things, it still doesn't guarantee that you will form close bonds with others.

To me, I guess one of the differences between that and, for example, becoming disabled despite your best efforts (and being shocked it still happened to you any way), is that socializing and connecting with others feel like it's something I can have any control over the outcomes. I'm aware I can just become permanently bedridden at any point for any reason and there's no amount of taking care of myself or self-love that can change this reality. I don't fight it, in the same way I don't really fight my current disabilities as much anymore, I know they fluctuate but they'll always impact my quality of life and that impact will increase the older I get, for example.

Maybe this is exactly how I feel about my connections right now.

It's disabling in a way that feels as if it gets harder to cope with the older I get. This is even more true when I think about things in a more logistical way. Sure I can't let myself feel like my life is on hold until I'm in a relationship or have close, trustworthy friends locally, but my life is on hold a little bit because of that, isn't it? For example, experiencing poverty while having a support system is a lot different than experiencing it on your own. When my friends need support, they go to their families and partners; when I need support, I seek for community services.

Could I not ask my friends for support? I could. Depending on the kind of support, I know they would help, but the kind of support they would help me with is already something I can take care of by myself. I don't think my friends are equipped to help with basic needs, and we're not close enough to share the responsibilities - as would be the case with, for example, close friends, families and partners.

The next step has probably to do with acceptance, again.

Maybe I'm in a better mind space for it now, since I can actually recognize all the work I've been doing as "good enough" or even as a lot more than what I'm capable of. Like I can put my tools down and well, what can we do now?

But it's ironic though. I have seasonal depression and it's the worse it's ever been, even though the weather isn't terribly triggering. I've been sick and in a lot of pain lately and I'm hoping really hard that I don't improve (on top of the suicidal ideation being back, full force). The lack of support is really the cherry on top, isn't it?

There's something about "you've been through this enough times, and you'll get through it again" that feels so sinister. It's all work, effort, motion, introspection and there's no resting. The thought of dying gives me so much comfort and I really hope it happens sooner rather than later.

I already feel invisible enough.

And my pain is made so much worse when I know people care about me and they remember me, because I have a light that shines very bright and unapologetically - I worked hard to get it! - but it's not really enough for the connection to feel reciprocal to me.

I don't have the energy or the drive to search any more.

I've met enough people.

It's all very similar. I can blame "culture" or "social media" all I want and it won't really change things, or change how I feel.

I have never been loved, cared for, or considered in a way that felt meaningful to me. This is a lot to grief. It's a lot to heal from, too.

I need to believe really hard in hope. And find anything, no matter how small, that can keep me going.

I'll continue to do the best I can. I'll find hope somewhere.

People Dispose of Their "Strong" Friend First (x) And sadly, when you are the capable friend, you have to be ready to move without anyone on a whim because you are the first person that they're okay with letting go off. When people see you as capable, strong, confident, or at least have the ability to recover yourself, you will be the first one they put in the way of harm or you are the person that they see not needing of defense and, often times, community. So while you consider everybody else a friend and they are at the front of your mind, you are usually the last that others think about and consider. In fact, they feel entitled to being inconsiderate of you because of how well you have performed and deemed yourself as capable in their eyes when it comes to you. When people see you have a high level of regard for yourself, they take that as an invitation to have a lower level of regard for you. So what happens is in friendship you are not the one considered, you are always the one who has to be the bigger person. When it comes to exclusion, you'll be the first excluded; when it comes to drama involving you, you'll usually be the last to know but everybody else will start moving weird towards you; when it comes to making plans, you're the last to be included; when those plans get canceled you're also the last to be told. Loving yourself comes with many externalities, and honestly, few of them are positive sadly, outside of who you create yourself to be in your own world, many people will envy you for the self assuredness you've developed from self appreciation. And this shows up consciously and subconsciously. But in friendship, it shows up quite often and it actually can be an inhibitor to you because many people won't know how to be an adequate friend to somebody who has already developed self love. Many people only have bonds with the people around them because all of them are suffering from the same brand of insecurity and lack of self respect. So these friends will bond over doing things for the plot, or doing things that they know don't suit them. And they will leave you out the loop because they do not feel comfortable telling you because they feel as though you will be disappointed in them because they're secretly disappointed in themselves, and they know the values they're living up to are not the values of somebody who loves themselves, and since you do love yourself and you embody that, they will want to leave you out their life, and they feel justified in doing that because a lot of people compare themselves to you. It's been a secret competition the whole time they knew you, unbeknownst to you though. So when they do things that are deemed unfavorable in this competition with you, like step out of self love, they will often kinda hide themselves away from you and hide you from their life. If that means excluding you, so be it. If that means no longer filling you in on their life while you continue to be a friend to them, so be it. If that means forgetting about you when it's convenient, so be it. If that means building bonds with people maybe they've even talked bad about you with instead of focusing on y'all's relationship, so be it.

I've been told (and read about) all the love and care I have put out there was not a waste, and it will return to me at some point.

And I really want to believe that.

What ends up happening in reality, though, is me becoming increasingly more emotionally unavailable and an "avoidant" of sorts: what's the point to keep on pouring and keep on taking that first step when I always end up starved in connections, right? So it's good to stop, and look elsewhere... except "elsewhere" isn't that much different, people still take and do not give back. My part here is to not give freely then, not anymore.

As I work on decentering connections and relationships so I can try to have any semblance of a better quality of life, I stop reaching out, I stop performing, I stop inviting myself - I'm welcomed but never really invited, there's a huge difference there. My phone is dead quiet, complete silence, no messages, not a single person to check on me (other than my internet friends who have been always very wonderful, and I'm thankful for them).

When I talked to some partnered friends, and employed ones as well, there that sense of them pitying me because of my circumstances but, of course, this is all in my head and it's completely baseless, right? When I look them in the eyes and they have that "oh you poor thing" look, it's definitely me reading too much into nothing, right? Sometimes even going as far as saying "wow, that really sucks" but they are not compelled to help in any meaningful way. I don't want someone to be with me out of pity, or wanting to help me as a way to make themselves feel better, if they're in a "better" situation than me. It annoys me way too much - no, I don't want to explain to you how much queerphobia and ableism have an impact in my life, or poverty, or housing instability, or the lack of a support system. Figure. It. Out. Leave me alone.

"Yeah, I don't have an emergency contact."

I'm my own family, my own partner, I'm my own support system. When push comes to shove I cannot trust or rely on people who have showed me, over and over, how consistently inconsistent they are.

So I let them go.

I have done this before, but I guess the difference is that now I'm actually closing the door behind me, maybe even locking it. Instead of leaving them open for these people to come and go at their convenience.

What about my convenience? What about I say "no" to this low-effort kind of connections?

"Well, then you won't have any friends."

Oh but I'll still have friends, plenty of friends. Friendships at this day and age are extremely low-effort, very shallow. This is probably because of the fact that I have no been prioritized in my own friendships, which is fine.

I know my friends won't reach out or check on me, I know my friends won't go the extra mile or do even half of the things I have done for them, and that's fine.

I know on their end our connection will always be preserved, because they know my kindness and patience.

I know my absence might cause sadness and have people wondering about me.

And I also know that none of these things have made me feel valued, seen or prioritized in my relationships. So I think it's fair to close (and lock) those doors, huh?

...

I wonder about the love and care I put out there and when will it come back to me, but now I feel less inclined to do it.

The silver lining here is the awareness of have been doing the work while having the discernment that I can't carry the weight alone. I've been doing my part, and I'll likely continue, but I'm starting to work on a zero tolerance for lack of reciprocity baseline. In the same way I've been a pillar of understanding, accommodating, flexibility and bending myself backwards to include others, they can do the same for me, too, but they don't, so I walk away. I close the door, I lock it.

I took a break from journaling as per therapist's recommendation. I was doing a lot of the work on my own, by myself and didn't realize how, in the big picture, it was damaging. The change was pretty immediate.

Journaling is one of the tools many professionals recommend people use to externalize and take a look at what goes inside one's head. It can work pretty well and, well, there's not really any "side effects", except there are...

At some point, I have already noticed that journaling was either triggering and/or feeding on rumination and obsessive thoughts: obsessively trying to rationalize, find options and solutions, find ways to get through things, obsessively dissect every single emotion, trying to get the the very essence, trying to get to the bottom of things, so I can finally find some solace or comfort or whatever will relieve the mental agony.

When I didn't let myself journal in the last couple of days, I actually caught myself with obsessive thoughts, falling into spirals and loops and unable to leave for a long time. After all, I'd just journal them away and the thoughts would finally leave my head. In theory, externalizing is good for me; in practice what was happening is me getting stuck on a cycle of rumination and obsessive thoughts, so I journal, feelings and thought calm down, then it happens again, over and over.

The giveaway was the topic: the exact same thing, every time. No real "solution", no working options either, just the same thoughts, from the same triggers, the same everything.

When I actually had to sit with all those thoughts and feelings, and not journal, I'm immediately hit with the reality of completely overlooking (and dare I say, forgetting) I have OCD.

The obsessive thoughts, the rumination, what have you... are all about connection, relationships and my social health (or lack of, thereof). It is, currently, the main area of concern in my life where I feel I have some control over the outcomes, except... I really don't.

Just like with my queerness, just like with my disabilities and neurodivergencies, just like with my living circumstances, I do the best I can with what I have, considering all my limitations and capacity.

That goes for connections too.

I am also doing the best I can, but somehow it never felt like enough. Maybe I can try something different, maybe I can meet more people, maybe I can do X, Y or Z... and surely, maybe I can, but I am exhausted, I'm burnt out, and ironically, the resentment builds up quickly, probably, because I was not listening to my own body, and not realizing my own mind was stuck in a loop.

So what am I doing now?

I recognize and acknowledge I've been doing the best I can with the skills and tools I already have, and more, and I have limited time, energy, money, etc. I cannot force connection, I cannot control it either, I can only help my odds, and even that is not a guarantee. I look for reassurance elsewhere as well, I see people in similar predicaments, with similar living experiences, who are doing so much more than me and getting no results as well: people who "put themselves out there" and go on dates, trying to find a life partner; and others who have been investing a lot to find meaningful friendships, but not even being met halfway. If they're doing so much more than me and are still not getting results, I think it's fair that I can blame something like "culture", the patriarchy, capitalism, whatever it is.

With that in mind, I can actually tell myself it's time to take a break, or pause. And then I try to go do something else with myself. Something that is not related with connection. I still do the same things, I'm still social and have my social hobbies, but the mindset is very different now: I don't prioritize connection anymore than I prioritize any other thing. I come first, my hobbies, interests and passions are up there too... and there's relationships. Again, reminding myself I am already doing what I can, and have been doing so for a very long time.

I laugh a little bit a about it now when I stop to think about it - and even journaling, right now - because it's a symptom. Because a lot of that mental anguish and me being unable to let go or find relief is literally a symptom. This is already a very exhausting and demanding predicament, and OCD somehow makes it 10x worse. It is really tough.

But I'm glad I've figured it out.

I guess the next steps are to continue doing the work I've started in the last couple of days, taking into consideration the fact that OCD will complicate things. Hopefully, my quality of life will improve as I try to shift my focus away from connections.

Something that really effs me up is how a large amount of society's "undesirable" adjectives are traits you can acquire due to disability.

Unemployed. Lives with their parents. Provides little to no economic value. Physically weak. NEET. Social outcast. Burden on others. Useless. Out of shape. Needs special care and attention. Over-sensitive. Medication-reliant.

This is such a hard pill to swallow... I don't feel valued in my relationships. It's no wonder there's so much resentment growing under the surface.

The fact that I am, quite literally, wasting my kindness, care and effort on people who will not reciprocate, but somehow I stay, because I'm stuck on their potential, kindness and niceness... but those are not indicative of relational reciprocity. It truly is a waste of time/energy that I'm unwilling to acknowledge.

It really does not matter how much I try to reframe this on "setting the standards" and "treating others how I want to be treated", I am treating people who, over and over, have showed me where they stand, what they're capable of and how much they're willing to invest in me.

Their investment is nonexistent, or it's on a convenience's basis, either way, the amount I offer and the amount I receive is very, very mismatched.

I guess, because my bar/standards/investment are real high, I naturally choose to make compromises.

I try to be understanding, flexible, accommodating, and so on. Because I can afford it, because I have the emotional maturity, availability and capacity for that.

But that's probably, ultimately, a trap I fall onto every single time.

My "high" standards are nearly impossible for people to reach. I'm well aware of that, and I make sacrifices in order to connect, and to remain connected. Always the issue of having to meet others in the middle, and them not being able to come to me instead. Or sometimes they do, but it's inconsistent, and unreliable.

I value myself, I value the work I put on myself, I value the time and effort I spend trying to connect even (and especially) when I'm feeling so burnt out and exhausted by disconnection...

It's good to recognize that I'm not being valued in my relationships.

I don't think I'm even considered.

I'm an afterthought albeit someone they know and care about. I'm also so very beloved, but not enough to be valued, or considered enough for the reciprocity to exist.

Relational reciprocity, the bare minimum.

I'm not being valued in my relationships.

Connections where I pour and pour and pour and pour, and I end up starving.

Ah, but maybe the problem is me being too "self-reliant" and "hyper-independent" that I don't let people in, or that teaches them I don't need help.

I'm not asking people to come in, or to help me though.

I expect them to reciprocate.

You see the effort I'm putting here? This is how much I value you, and this is how much I value our connection.

I'm not being valued in my relationships.

Isaiah is, currently, one of my favorite authors and I finally got around to read some of his works (they have been shared earlier here). He speaks from a place that feels so personal to me - things I have experienced and could have written myself and I'd like to share some thoughts about one of his articles: 'I Lowered My Tolerance for "Low-Maintenance Friendships," and My Relationships Got Better'.

People enjoy the benefits of friendships, and having friends, without really putting on much effort to maintain these connections. For many, friendships are merely placeholders, and/or connection of convenience.

And then there’s a phrase people use when it comes to friendship: “I prefer low-maintenance friendships.” On the surface, it sounds healthy. No pressure. No expectations. Go with the flow. Just vibes. But over time, I started to notice something. A lot of “low-maintenance” friendships weren’t actually low-maintenance. They were one-sided. And they required one person to consistently compensate for someone else’s convenience. We say things like: “We just grew apart.”, “We all have busy lives.”, “I can’t be on my phone 24/7.” And while those things may be true… They’re often used by people who want to be excused from responsibility. Because the people who are making the effort, They’re busy too. They have jobs. Families. Stress. Responsibilities. They just choose to make room.

And then he continues speaking exactly about the unsaid hierarchy that exists, where platonic relationships are put below romantic and familial ones, like a past time or something merely temporary, and the people who engage in this "low-maintenance" truly make the relationships about themselves: their convenience, their needs, their time, their busyness, etc.

When it's time for them to do their part... then it's the friend that's too needy, too high-maintenance, "well, I'm very busy" so the connection revolves around them. It feels one-sided because it is one-sided.

We don’t always treat friendship like a relationship (...) And when someone asks for more? They’re labeled as needy. Or misunderstood. Or “doing too much.” (...) a lot of what people call “low-maintenance” is actually this: “I want you to meet my needs… without me taking responsibility for yours.” And let’s be honest. A person who desires low-maintenance connections is often very high-maintenance (...) they don’t take the same risks. They don’t make the same effort. They don’t show the same consideration. (...) There’s something emotionally dysregulating about someone who is consistently inconsistent. They pop in. You respond. You hold space. And then they disappear.

The next part is when it hits me - and it took me a few reads to get this through my head: I don't have "low-maintenance" relationships. These "connections" only exist because I'm the one keeping them alive. Undervaluing myself, underselling and watering myself down to try to keep a relationship alive - a relationship that only exists in my head.

When I looked at what I was willing to give… and compared it to what I was receiving… The imbalance was clear. So I made a shift (...) I stopped chasing. I stopped overcompensating. I stopped teaching people that they had no responsibility in their relationship with me. And something interesting happened. My relationships didn’t disappear. They got better. More intentional. More reciprocal. More aligned. I realized something simple: Every adult relationship in my life is a choice. Not a chase. If two people are truly “low-maintenance”… The relationship doesn’t exist. Because someone always has to maintain it. And for it to be healthy… It requires two people who are actively choosing each other. Sometimes we don’t lose relationships. We just realized there was no real investment to begin with. (...) The bare minimum isn’t a burden. If I’m good enough to take from … I’m good enough to give to. Everything changed. Some connections grew, and others were outgrown or just dissolved. Friendship is a relationship. Friendship is a choice. And like anything else in life… It reflects what we’re willing to give… and what we’re willing to accept.

I've yet to see my relationships shifting, moving to, or becoming "better" in that way but just the realization that a lot of those connections were merely fabricated one-sidedly and having the discernment (and courage) to walk away from them is a huge win. I'm still working on it, and probably always will.

A lot of the people I call "friends" are actually acquaintances or "buddies", I'm not sure which word is good, or which label, but I do know that, although many will be supportive in times of struggle and will cheer me on, the connections I have in my life, in person, fall into that "consistently inconsistent" bracket of relationships. They are people that are in my life and around my orbit, but they're not here with me and I'm not with them, either.

They are people that I have to constantly remind them I exist, constantly remind them I'd love to connect more often/deeply and be invited to things, and constantly try to stay around, because I know they will not do the same for me.

If I don't have them, I have nothing. But I probably, truly, have "nothing" to start with, since I'm still the one keeping these connections on life support myself.

This is something very hard to come to terms with...

A very uncomfortable space where I'm trying to connect but remain at the margins despite my best efforts, looking for people who will finally replenish me, see me, care for me, consistently. Where I'm not seen as a placeholder or convenience, but as a actual part of their lives.

#resources #inanis post

What over-giving taught me about what real love actually requires

I was present. I wasn’t considered.

small-bambi

Harrison Wood Hsiang

metamorphesque

i'm all the people i've ever loved

loseness lines over time by olivia de recat, @i-wrotethisforme, Kaveh Akbar, Olivie Blake

It's been a rough week, but I've also been keeping as busy as I can. Between a friend passing away and being forcibly outed, and getting huge achievements I've been working hard towards, I would say it could be worse, it could be better too, I guess.

All in all, it showed me how "resilient" I am. I don't stay too sad or too happy for long, and my emotions feel mostly "flat". I'm not sure if it's a sign of growth and maturity, or just mental illnesses.

I feel disillusioned though.

"Putting on the effort" feels pretty meaningless. I catch myself trying too hard to be my "authentic" self, so much that it's hard to put my needs first. It ends up with me showing up quite passively in my connections, because I feel I'm constantly being shut down. It's subtle, but I notice. When I voice my opinion, needs, views, whatever it may be, it's not exactly taken into consideration - and, again, this is probably happening because of the way I'm approaching connecting X the way others do it - and even when it is taken, well maybe the other person just has a "better" idea, so lets all go with that, shall we?

I think I didn't want to admit but I feel a lot of shame in being the "floater" friend.

Yes, it's obvious I don't really "belong" and yes, I am trying very hard to be a part of your life, and yes, I'll cheer you on and be a source of support but I won't really voice my needs because you are showing me, in real time, that you cannot meet them. There's a line I can't really cross here.

I want to believe that my future partner, as well as my closest friends, will be in my life and it won't feel like I'm pulling teeth, it won't feel like I have to put on a performance, and it won't feel like I have to beg for them to care about me, because they will just... care. I won't have to remind them I exist, because they are putting on the effort to be a part of my life, and make me a part of theirs.

And the only way to get there is to continuously try to connect with people, and try to deepen existing bonds. I'm already doing it all.

Being older makes it harder, I won't lie. It does suck to see people my age who already have their social circles well-established and secure, while I have many peers, but none are close enough. It's also harder because of my unwillingness to tolerate dysfunction: I know what I want, I know the kind of people I want in my life and most of them are not it.

This is so true that I, now, get to watch myself get crushes on people and, as I get to know them better, it irks me, instead of me holding onto their "potential" (just how I used to do).

So here I am.

Still the friend who cares, who feeds my friends, who cheer up on people, who shows interest and who shows up even when it's inconvenient. The friend who spends money, time and energy and I don't really "expect" anything back - I observe and act accordingly: my energy and care is appreciated, but not enough for me to receive it back, so I move on.

"But how are people supposed to care for you if you won't let them!?" I do let them. I will sometimes show exactly what I need, exactly how I need it. My "needs" are either brushed aside or they feel like "too much". Which is ironic when you think about it: I show up to others exactly how I want others to show up for me. I take pride in being a friend who listens and who cares, who is genuinely interested and asks questions, who is willing to go above and beyond to make someone feel included.

The bar is very high, and I set it up there. That's the point.

"There's a reason you are single and don't have close friends in real life." And the reason is I don't entertain surface-level interactions for too long. I don't have the energy or drive to invest in something that, although low stakes, feels pointless. Even more when there's little to no reciprocity. Another reason is I am setting the standards and I'm not willing to compromise. It doesn't make sense to "downgrade" my life after the amount of years and money I spent on therapy, growth and self-improvement. I seek a certain quality of relationships and anything less isn't going to be good long term.

I've yet to find a time where I meet others half way and don't end up very resentful. This resentment is coming exactly from tossing my standards aside and adapting to the other. If I can be flexible, understanding and accommodating, so can others.

nuttybarzz

Let me know all of you

There were some local, queer speed dating events I was looking into but as I read more, and research more, I start getting overwhelmed since this doesn't look as different than using dating apps in my eyes. It also defeats the purpose of finding a partner organically, through my friends.

It's all a game I'd likely not be thinking about if I were busier.

A shame my hobbies do very little to ward off the connection "urges" and I have more moments where I need to sit with my brain, than not.

My brain is starved for connection. It's in such desperate state that it feels like I'm running out of time even when I know I'm not.

Paradoxically, I'm also still in a state of social and emotional burnout.

If only I were still struggling in my life, but no, I actually feel more stabilized. My life is alright now and even all the issues don't give me that sense of urgency and survival that I used to struggle with... and struggling in general is not something I'd say is happening now. I still struggle but I push through things, calm and steady.

My main struggle and concern is my social life.

I want love, and companionship, and intimacy and partnership, I want to have ease in my life, where I can share joys and, especially, struggles knowing that it will make everything much better. I already know how to do life alone, because it's all I've ever done, and it's hard, it sucks. I can't self-love my way into paying bills, rent and having to cook and care for myself 24/7, all on my own. And, please, don't tell me I just need to "rely on the community/chosen family" when these people are not reliable in the slightest - people that have families and communities of their own, who they will prioritize, obviously.

It's tough having to hold the weight of carrying on with life alone as someone who desires partnership. This isn't even something that can be "fixed" or fulfilled with "community" and "chosen family". My desire for a partner doesn't erase the importance of a community and of friends, those are completely different things, that fulfill completely different roles.

Sitting with grief is hard.

I still catch myself crying here and there, and I've been doing it for years at this point. Looking back, and even looking at my current life, realizing the amount of effort I put on connecting, how much I pour into my relationships, how I try to show up authentically and be optimistic, but it just didn't happen.

I grieve everyday, and I try to keep my head up any way.

I live for love and put love out there but it simply doesn't return, huh?