To bi or not to bi, that's the question

I really need to figure this shit out. I'll try to go back to my childhood and look at my first crush and then move on and see what sort of pattern might reveal itself. Am I really into men or not? Let's find out... You like that title? I hope it's not too sublte.

1. First crush ever
The first crush I can remember that I ever had, I was not very young. I was 8, and this was a bunch of months but less than a year before the abuse. It was a teacher, I think around 22 years old. A woman. All the boys in the class had a crush on her. She was truly super sweet, invited the whole class to her home one day, and everyone liked her. She had half her face paralysed but no one gave her any shit about it, everyone thought she was beautiful (she truly was) and went out of their ways to defend her if needed. I didn't feel weird about crushing on her because everyone with even the slightest inclination towards girls did! However I was too scared to tell anyone about it cause I was pretty sure I was the only girl to have a crush on her. I wasn't thinking about sex back then at all. I just got warm, fluffy feelings around her, and some tingles in my pussy that I didn't know what to make of really. But for a childish crush, I think it was genuine. Or at least I can't see why not. The woman was absolutely amazing, at least from that I remember everyone loved her, the other teachers too. It wasn't a very strong crush and definitely not obsessive. I just really liked her and felt warm and tingly in her company. I didn't over-think about her at the time. But I also didn't really understand that I had a crush on her, cause like... I was "meant" to like boys... and then that I felt that for a girl, it confused me.

2. Second crush
At around the same time I felt kind of a slight crush towards one of my bullies, a guy of my age. I really don't think that was a real crush, but my fear of him that made my mind try to make him "nice" by creating positive feelings towards him. I was scared of him, always tense around him and I hated him. I didn't actually want to be in a relationship, or kiss him or even give him a hug. It was just those abstract feelings fluttering about.

3. Crushes soon after the childhood sexual assault
I got several obsessive crushes on boy classmates during ages 10-12. Even one of them I got extremely obsessive over when he got a girlfriend, who was also a classmate of mine. I wanted to kill her for "taking him" and fantasised about stabbing her to death, when I was 12 and really suicidal and messed up from that trauma at age 9. My entire mind was rampantly out of control, I dissociated a lot, self-harmed, constantly wanted to die, was at my first "war" with Anna whom I had just realised was going to stick around forever. Just to remind you of how my psyche was doing at that point in my life: not very well. The male classmate I was obsessed with had no interest in me but I simply didn't care. I felt like I would force him to be with me if I could. But I was also really despondent, shy and just too fucking depressed to even try anything like that. It was a storm in my head but it never leaked out. I felt no sexual feelings towards him. This was probably the most fucked up of my "crushes" and no I don't think I was actually into him. Just very, very damaged, lonely and hurting.

4. Another teacher
From age 11 to 15 I had a long-lasting crush in a male science teacher, who was 27 when I was 11. My best friend was into him as well and we were both being silly teen girls about it. It was only his looks I liked and his sexy voice, but I don't think I ever had sexual fantasies about him, not even later into my teens when I had definitely gotten interested in thinking about sex. I had obsessive romantic fantasies about him, and a lot of "taboo fantasies" about dating him, as his student. I think it was the "forbiddeness" that got me drawn to him, sharing that interest with my best friend and that it was a little extra exciting that he was quite a lot older than me. But did I truly want him? I don't think so.

5. Early teens and with a more active sexual mind
At age 13 I had just started karate and instantly "fell" for a guy there. He was from another village nearby and 2 years older. That was also obsessive and ultimately really shallow. I was not interested in actually getting to know him as a person, but I did have sexual fantasies, and lots of sexual nightly dreams, about him. In my diaries at the time I wrote about him constantly. I filled up entire books just rambling about how I felt for him and all my fantasies, and all the details about how we had accidentally touched each other or gotten eye contact at karate practice. Then about 2 years later when I was 15 and still doing karate, he got his long hair cut off and I was no longer interested in him. That attraction died with his hair. Was I truly into him? I don't think so. I was obsessed with an idea of him, but wasn't into the actual person that he was. We did have maybe just two actual conversations during those 2 years I pined for him, and I didn't like his personality those two times I saw it. Yet I kept obsessing and imagining he was different. That is actually a very common pattern with all of my "love obsessions" that I was just pining in silence but didn't want to actually get to know the person I was obsessed about, or I wanted to get to know them but then I didn't like them and "fell out of love" however messed up that may seem.

(Pause for reflection)
I felt very lonely in my teens and childhood. I was obsessed with the dream of finding a "prince charming" or "the right one" or "my one true love" but no one wanted me cause I was an unpopular, bullied and awkward aspie girl with weird hair and clothes and a bad posture. I've always known I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but I know I'm definitely some people's favourite whiskey. But in my teens and childhood I felt very lonely and unwanted. I wanted romances and kisses just like most teen girls, but I didn't get that and it made me very frustrated and feel even more unwanted and just hopeless. I think that, in combination with the trauma at age 9, and also that I was dreamy and quite detached from reality already to begin with (I was stuck believing in childhood fairytales much longer than what's "normal" for kids), made me obsessed by my ideas of people instead of actually interested in them. I was incredibly unrealistic and overly dreamy so to the point it became unhealthy.

(Back to the story telling)
6. Realising interest in girls/women
Then at age 14, I went to a local church for confirmation. I chose that myself, out of curiosity, and my parents hated it and said that the church was brainwashing me... yeah, my parents are kinda hardcore atheists, although my mother is slightly agnostic. Slightly. However at that church group, which was really quite small, I got crushes on not just one but TWO girls. One of them I just liked looking at, really. She was very pregnant, quite a bit older than me and I knew I could only have her as eye-candy so I kept my distance and it was never brought up or noticed. The other girl, however... she's the one who made me realise I'm really into girls. I pined for her and really wanted to get to know her, but I was so painfully shy and also worried the church would have an issue with it if they noticed gay flirting there. I didn't know if that particular church was gay-friendly or not. It was never brought up one way or the other. Her name is Elena and at that time she lived in another village nearby and at church was the only times I could meet her, cause we didn't go to the same school. That was a dilemma. My fantasies about her were wild. Both romantically and sexually. I wasn't too aware of oral sex even being a thing back then, so those fantasies mostly only consisted of kissing, boob-touching and masturbating each other to orgasm. Likely also some pussy on pussy rubbing, aka tribbing. I'd say that counts as gay enough for my uneducated 14 year old mind.

This one gets two paragraphs cause apparently I've a lot to say about her! Continues: At the day of confirmation she helped me put on a necklace that I was having a fight with, just out of the blue she asked if I needed help. It made me so weak in the knees I nearly lost my balance, and then I couldn't think of anything else for the rest of that day, week, year. When I didn't see her anymore after the confirmation had ended, I kept pining for a few more months, but then eventually let go of her. I saw her once more, 2-3 years later, at the bus stop in the village I lived in. She walked into a bus when I walked out of another, and didn't get the opportunity to even say hi. Then never saw her again. Was I really into her? I think so. It was a groundbreaking crush for me, to realise I like girls. It had a huge impact. Although my focus on her was very sexual, I also didn't actually know her so it makes sense I focused on the physical aspect then, but also felt warm and weak around her, and more shy than otherwise. I don't think I was actually obsessed with her, also because when I knew she was out of reach, I could move on from her. Not right away but within a reasonable time. I always remember her in a kind of special way though, mostly with a sort of gentle nostalgia, for the self-discovery that my crush on her led to.

7. My first sexuality confusions
That following autumn (2004) I found an article about gay and bi girls in a glossy teen magazine and it dawned upon me. I thought I must be bisexual. Briefly that winter, I wondered if I might be a lesbian, cause when I thought of girls vs boys, I felt like I'd rather be with a girl and like my attraction to boys wasn't quire right. But then I thought I was crazy for thinking that, I had lots of crushes on boys and only 2-3 on girls! If anything that must mean I'm more straight-leaning bisexual, right? Well that was my thinking back then. Sometime during spring 2005 I came out as bisexual, to my mother and best friend. I didn't tell the school cause it was the very last term ever (9th glade) there and I thought it would be better and best to just wait that out and not care about that stupid school. They had no business knowing. But yes, I did come out as bisexual all that time ago! When I was 15 or just turned 16, I don't remember the exact time but I think it was sunny weather outside when I told my mother while we were in a car and she drove me somewhere. And she told me that's "the ideal sexuality".

8. First gay date
Sometime that spring I met a girl from Qruiser, for a date. I think she's actually a lesbian, but possible she was bisexual instead, I dunno my memory of her looks and vibes just screams GAY but yeah whatever... She was a couple of years older than me, Asian, punk-sport butch who couldn't speak Swedish and barely English so we didn't understand each other well. She was cute as hell but we didn't connect at all and the date was a flop. But I mean it was my first date with another girl, at just age 15! Considering all of my issues... I'm proud of myself for that.

9. Barely a crush, but maybe noteworthy
For the last few months of my 9th grade we got a new girl as a classmate. She was totally my type and I got curious about her. But I also noticed that she was too shy and I probably wouldn't get along much with her due to that, so I acknowledged that and just liked her as eye-candy. Also I wasn't out as bi or anything at that school, so that also held me back from flirting with girls. But what I felt for her, I think it was a healthy thing. Was a pretty weak but still noticable "I like this girl" feeling.

(Long sidenote about my type)
When I say "my type" in terms of girls/women.... it's very definitely a clear type. Most girls I've crushed on looked pretty much the same. Shoulder long blonde straight hair, very light skin, that soft pastel feminine style, either healthy weight and more or less curvy or really thin with a small frame like that "petite" kind of women that are so small even I look huge in comparison! They look very fair, bright and kinda angelic with platinum blonde hair and snow white skin. I think I like that type cause it's my feminine opposite: meaning my style has always been dark, with heavy makeup, lots of black and dark rich accent colours like wine red, petrol and deep purple, but also bright pink details. So they're like the "angelic" opposite to my "demonic" thing going on, in a symbolic kinda sense. Or that's how I've always seen it. Like a yin to my yang kinda thing but two feminine women, one light and the other dark. I think that's why I prefer blondes and the sweetly softly bright feminine, to contrast my (usually) black hair and sharply dark femininity. Lilith wants to date virgin Mary? No I'm kidding. I don't actually put any sort of personality or value into that type. It's just a look. I do like other types of women, but this in particular feels like truly "my type" as a trademark kinda thing! Cause it happened unintentionally, really a lot. That first teacher, the church girl Elena and that briefly new classmate all fit that "type" to a tee. They seriously looked like they could have been mother and sisters!

This just hit me: I've ALWAYs had a clear type for women/girls, even when I've broadened my taste over the years and just noticing more styles and looks are really pretty and hot... but I have literally never had ANY type for men/guys at all. Not even in the slightest. There have been more masculine guys most likely because feminine guys are quite rare, especially straight/bi fem guys. And I mostly just fell for whichever guy was closest to me! But I think I had at least 3 fem guy crushes, who were all into women, although 2 of them were trans guys, but then 1 of them was a straight cis guy. He wore makeup and had long nails, wore very colourful, kinda "ragdoll" style clothes and I loved his style so hard. But I was a trans guy at the time and he wasn't into me and whatever. I remember he just looked really fucking cute, but yeah he was also just another obsession with no real depth to it.

Actually that was my worst obsession ever. I online stalked him and thought he was my only reason to live, until he got a girlfriend, then I had no reason to live anymore so I tried to kill myself. 5 times. Although he unknowingly gave me an orgasm once... whoops! My neck is very sensitive... and probably just as orgasmic as my pussy is. So when he gave me a neck massage that was like him literally masturbating me. I came. One of my most awkward orgasms ever. But I digress. I have always liked both feminine and masculine styles on men, but I don't think I ever truly cared which of what they were. None of my guy crushes look the other one alike.

R had no style at all, was kinda boring looking and just wore sporty sweatpants and hoodies, you know that really bland and boring kind, and his hair was just that regular short guy style, not dyed. He was quite overweight, but no one really knew how much he weighed cause the scale only went up to 115 kg and he weighed more than that, but I don't think it was much more, and he looked more like he weighed around 90-100 kg, at 185 cm tall. Come to think of it, he wasn't very masculine physically. Like completely hairless, quite high voice, no facial hair. Perhaps that's a little odd at age 17-18. I've never thought of that before. Also he had gynecomastia so he likely had some hormonal issues. Then my next bofriend M was super thin at barely 50 kg and same height, he was actually severely underweight. He had a bit of a punk/skinhead style but also liked some goth stuff. I remember he got a brocade vest tailored cause clothes didn't exist in his very tall, narrow size, but also he was really broke and couldn't afford much nice clothes.

My point in there has never been any sort of pattern to what type of looks the men I've had something with, whether experiences or just obsessions. They've all looked very different, and randomly so. So that's why I say I don't have a type or preference when it comes to men. It seems that with women I feel drawn to them in a much more specific way, like my heart just knows what it wants and looks for similar traits for a next crush, etc... but with men, it was always just completely random and I rarely got sexually into handsome men, only the not so attractive ones, with just a few exceptions, but in those cases I was instead obsessed with their looks and didn't like their minds. With women I think I... have strangely been both more picky and more realistic. Like a hell of a lot more realistic and never actually obsessed, except with just one girl, but that was a celebrity, and not someone I met in reality. I'm getting onto something here... and I'm sure I'll get more into that eventually as I proceed here, but just thought I'd bring it up as it hit me, so you can see how my mind reflects on this and uncover it bit by bit, while I'm going through my past.

(Back to the story telling)
10. Celebrity crush gone haywire
Okay, moving forward. I think if there's any celebrity crushes I should mention here, it's Berny Pålsson. Might sound like a guy's name but it's a nickname for Bernadette. I discovered her autobiographical book sometime that year (2005, to remind you) and I noticed that she looked exactly like me, with the half black-half white dyed hair, and a skimpy, hyper feminine punk-metal style that her journalists referred to as "punk princess". It was like looking into a mirror when I saw pictures of her. And reading her autobiography felt like I was reading my own diary. Well, she was a million times more extreme than me, but I recognised myself in almost all of it to a lesser degree. She was also bisexual, she was also cutting herself, she was also struggling with various mental health issues (including anxiety, depression, borderline... but then she's schizophrenic and a heavy drug addict as well as alcoholic which luckily I'm not) and also had issues with sex addiction although at that time I was still a virgin but addicted to masturbation. My birth name was the same as one of her middle names. She wrote the book at age 17-19 and was at age 22 when I was 15, so a bit older but not a huge difference, and she lived like a teen anyhow.

I did crush on her... obsessively. Very obsessively. I was into her sexually too. Except from when she looked like a totally drugged, drunken and bleeding from self-harm wounds everywhere... she was hot. Like damn, I've never before or after seen such a deliciously softly super curvy fucking perfect hourglass-shape body with such an incredibly beautiful yet adorably cute face... ever before in my life! Fuck, she was extremely gorgeous, and especially enticing to look at when she stuffed her probably DD-cups into push-up bras and that round, big butt in flared mini skirts so short you could see her panties... that made me drool really a lot. She wasn't at all super thin. I'd say she was upper range of healthy weight for some time and then a little overweight. If there's anything I'd call a perfect body, she totally had it. And I'm saying that now as no longer even remotely obsessed with her. She just had the greatest looking body I have ever seen, all time. She doesn't look as good anymore though. Time and lots of drugs and mental illness tends to not have the most kind effects on your body. She's 36 now but looks like half-dead 50 year old.

I obsessively read her book, over and over, brought it with me everywhere. It was my bible. Literally. I lived by its words, which wasn't good considering the content! Yeah, her book did inspire me to cut myself more, overdose on my medications more, attempt suicide more, and made me think I had schizophrenia. It wasn't a good influence. I could write more about her, but let's not make it too long. I'm way over her now, and this is just reflecting over my past. Actually, my best friend told me that Berny had a daughter that she named Laura and that's why my best friend had bad vibes to my new name. She thought I knew about that and had deliberately named myself after the kid. I didn't know a damn thing about it. I guess we just have the same taste in names, or something. But I googled it and even read through Berny's blog all the way back to 2014 to try to find something about that but there was nothing.

The closest I could find was that she was pregnant for some time back in 2014 but had a miscarriage, and then there was nothing about her being pregnant again or having a kid, as far as I could find. I don't know if I've lost enough connection to my "best friend" to think she might have lied to me or if my research skills just weren't good enough. It could be so that my former extreme obsession Berny has a daughter with the same name as me, but, it was a pure coincidence if that's so. A lot of that has gone on with me and Berny, that we just have unbelievably much in common in really random ways. It's possible we're some kind of distant soulmates or whatever. It's strange, but ultimately I don't really care anymore. So what? Let's move on.

11. Getting actual experiences, mid teens
The first 2-ish years of gymnasium (ages 16-17) I had very many short-lived, obsessive crushes on guys. I met Max who was a classmate of mine, 19 year old nerdy ginger guy. He was cute and good-looking but I didn't feel attracted to him. I did however get my first few sexual experiences with him. His was the first dick I sucked, he was the first person to touch my boobs and pussy. It was consensual but I knew already back then I wasn't into him. I was just happy that finally someone wanted me, and he was kind and sweet. So I mostly just went along with it, cause I had a chance. The sexual stuff did turn me on though, like really a lot, I soaked my panties every single time, but I was scared to let him inside me. That felt like a step I just couldn't take with him.

12. First girl on girl experience
And then I had that flop of a threesome with him and another girl. I wanted to fuck her. I would have liked her inside me... I was totally all over her and really into her, it felt so amazing! Like I was sooo eager and turned on by her, and touching her felt so good and just... I dunno it just gave me a very special, firey feeling... but she was only interested in him and when I noticed that I had completely not gotten the chance at girl sex which I had been promised, I got sad and uninterested in the whole thing. Immediately stopped touching her. I felt gross and rapey. And I felt terrible when I just sat by the bed and watched him fucking her, wasn't even turned on anymore. I think I was sad that he got to fuck her while I was rejected. Of course he still wanted me, and asked me again if I wanted to, but I wanted her! He knew I was bisexual and he was bi as well. But I doubt that she was. She might have been bicurious though, but yeah whatever I knew absolutely nothing about her at all so I can't know if she was not really into girls or just not into me. We had not seen each other before that day, so it's very likely she was just not into me.

13. The rape
I then met my rapist online whom I only wanted a friendship with. I had no romantic or sexual feelings for him at all, prior to the rape. And obviously not after it either, cause that didn't turn me on! Yeah... that was a joke. I don't think my fantasies about him as of late have ever been any kind of sign of me actually being into him. Honestly I can't even remember what he looked like anymore. Time erased my memory of his face, as I only saw him for a few hours on that one day. Also, perhaps more relevant now: he was a homophobe. I don't think he knew about my same sex attraction, because he never talked about that and I thought it was best not to mention it. But he did rant about how very scared he was that gay men would "jump" him and... ironically enough, rape him. I don't think he'd deserve that, actually. I don't think anyone would. Makes me really wonder how huge issues he had, though. Maybe mine were minor in comparison...

He does play a very big part in all of this, although he was clearly never a crush, boyfriend or hookup of mine. He's the odd one out, on my list of people I've had sex with. I feel a lot like I have a strange kind of severed connection to him. I do not like him, but I've been obsessed with him too. I've fantasised about sex and even romance, with him, several years after he raped me. I've tried to track him down and find him in real life, just a year or so ago, but to no avail. Although I still have the phone number he gave me all those years ago, written in a diary, but I don't dare to call it. Perhaps some day I'll gather enough courage to. Perhaps I need to heal a little bit more first, just in case he still uses that number and might pick up the phone.

(Another pause)
Let's take a pause and reflect a little. The thought has hit me... I've read/heard about that sometimes when straight people get raped/sexually assaulted by someone of the same sex, they start thinking they might be gay, and I think this is a pretty common reaction. At least my brief research tells me so. Perhaps especially men who get raped by other men starting to think they're actually into men as in thinking maybe they wanted it on some level: self blame gets intertwined with confusion about sexual orientation. That makes a lot of sense. And when I thought of that... cause I was sexually abused at such a young age and by the opposite sex (yes there was a girl in on it too, but she was not the one holding me down and looking at my bits up close, he did most of it, she was just laughing around in the background, and I've now gotten over most of my internalised lesbophobia), and then raped by the opposite sex (also by Anna but that was different and affected me differently, that gave me trust issues and fear towards myself, not to other women)... it's possible I was always a lesbian but I thought I was bisexual cause of those traumas.

The same way that some straight people think they might be gay from having been abused by the same sex... maybe I thought I was bisexual cause I've been abused by the opposite sex. But that maybe it had a more... ingrained (?) or long-lasting, effect on me because heterosexuality is the norm, and I didn't ever think of questioning my feelings for men/guys cause I was expected to be into the opposite sex, as is everyone. I feel like this might actually be what happened. The weight in my heart tells me that's how it is, but can I trust it? It feels like a heavy thing to realise, and quite dizzying.

Also considering how very much my traumas have fucked up my sexuality on other levels, with the getting attracted to close relatives, attracted to kids, all the obsessive rape fantasies, sex addiction, and so fucking on... it actually wouldn't surprise me a lot if I was also always a lesbian but got that messed up with my rapey and obsessive, basically intrusive fantasies about men that made me think I was into them and that I wanted sex and romance with them.

I've always, always struggled to figure out my sexuality, ever since I learned that there are different labels for if you're attracted to men or women, both or neither. I've switched from thinking I'm bi to lesbian, to bi, to pansexual, to gay male, to asexual, to bi again, back to gay male, then to straight female, back to bisexual female and here I'm for the first time ever truly looking at the label lesbian. Literally the only one that never felt like it fit me is straight male, but for the same reason as lesbian. I've dithered between sexual orientations for 14 fucking years, I've had enough, and I demand an answer!!! I don't care which fucking one anymore... I don't care... just please I need to know so that I can put this shit behind me for once in my life...

That's why this is so important to me, cause as soon as I felt this shift, all I could think was "Noooooo not again!!!" cause I don't know how many times I've come out but eventually I just stopped coming out cause it had gotten ridiculous and no one cared anymore who or what I was into. I know, I fucking know, that it's because of my traumas that I simply can't for the life of me figure out my sexual orientation. I just want it sorted out, once and for all. The answer doesn't matter, as long as I get the right answer.

My sexuality is absolutely shredded by my traumas, and I can't make sense of the pieces, bits, slices and strings that's left of it. I can't put the mess together cause I don't know what it's supposed to be like. All I can say about it is just "I think it's broken" and sigh.

So it wouldn't surprise me, it wouldn't... cause I think it's true. But I feel sad about it. That would explain also why my long term relationships with men never worked out. Really the only love or crush that I'm actually unsure about is R... maybe I really did love him? I don't know. I'll get to that very soon, so let's hold that thought.

(Back to the story telling)
14. First romantic experiences
Then I met J a couple months after the rape, on the same online chat site. He was quite a bit older than me. I had just turned 18 and he turned 27 a few days after that. I felt I had a few really cosy romantic moments with him and did feel some butterflies, but I wasn't really into him as a person. He was boring, and we didn't really have anything in common. Except he was a smoker and I finally got my chance to try my first cigarette, which I had longed for for years prior but never gotten the chance. I had sex with him once, at his place, but it was physically painful and incredibly disappointing. I had shaved my pussy for him, but he was very distant, gave me no foreplay what so ever and it was just... literally just in and out until he came in me. It was the worst consensual sex I've ever had, only because he was so distant and unaffectionate with me.

We had been dating for about 2 weeks at that point, and he broke up with me the next day when he was walking me to the bus station. I took a detour back into the city to buy emergency birth control pills before I went back home again. About a week later he came back crawling to me saying he wanted me back, but I felt absolutely nothing for him and thought he was an idiot, so I said no and moved on. Never heard from him again, until I met him at a psychiatric ward where he worked as a staff member, early in my FtM transition 4 years later. He recognised me when I said hi, and he looked absolutely livid, seeing me there. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get so pale so fast... He switched wards the next day, to very obviously avoid me. Then I never saw or heard from him again. Was I ever into him? No, I don't think so. But I also didn't know him long enough to truly know if I could have been into him. I really liked his kisses though. He was an incredible kisser, with an unnaturally long tongue. That tickled my fancy!

15. First love?
Then I met R. Was I in love with him then? Well, because he was very overly obsessed with me, if I was obsessed with him too, it would have looked like a healthy love in comparison. That was the only time I had an even worse obsession to compare my love-like feelings to. I don't know, but I think that's an important thing to bring up. I remember I wanted breaks from him all the time after just a few weeks, and that I didn't ever miss him after it had been a few days. Like I never really wanted to hang out with him, but when I did I usually liked it, before it got abusive between us. When I was with him, I liked him and felt like I was into him... but when I was alone between meetups I didn't feel like I was into him much at all. It's hard to figure out what to really make of that. But I think maybe it was something else going on than love there. I mean, I really did care about him a lot, but I also felt a certain distance, like I wasn't fully there with my feelings for him. I think maybe I told myself I was more into him than I really was. And him hurting me made me feel like it was a heartbreak when I broke up with him but really I was just hurt by all the damn abuse. I... don't think I actually loved him, or was into him even... and realising that... not even him... it's heavy.

Sex with him was absolutely amazing... when he didn't sexually assault me, but I was still always distant from him during sex, and I wasn't into his body at all. He just had amazing techniques at pleasing me and I did dream away into my fantasy world a lot. Romance was great with him... but it also felt phony and awkward, like I wasn't quite "there" with that either. Everything was so very intensely black and white and confusing and conflicting with him. I think maybe possibly I just wanted for it to work out with him, more so than I loved him or wanted him. I was not attracted to his looks at all and the more I got to know him the less I liked him and the less I was into him. Also, this is a VERY important factor to take into consideration as well: he was the first person ever to love me romantically. Of course I "fell" for him then... I just wanted to be loved. I remember that thought... I've thought it before, that it's possible I was only into him because he loved me, and well suddenly that makes a lot of sense.

The rest is sum up, conclusion and last few reflecting thoughts:

Well, this is starting to look like a pattern, don't you think? Cause I see a consistent pattern of a "nope not into, not attracted to, not really in love with, just obsessive, etc" about the guys. While girls are much more varied and depending on the intensity of what I felt, does seem to have been genuine and also a hell of a lot healthier. I always used to think I "lost" attraction to girls I was crushing on cause of a fading attraction to women altogether... but it wasn't. It was really just me knowing when to stop pining for women I had to chance with, cause I was not actually obsessed with them. I actually genuinely liked them and saw them as potentials: not must have's.

Oh wow, fuck. I think I might have solved the puzzle... or damn nearly at least! And... just damn... I don't even know what to say to myself? I'm at a loss for words. I really wasn't into ANY of the guys I thought I was?! And it's been soooo many guys... if I also count all of the crushes... they're uncountable... and ALL just illusions and tricks!? And all the ones I pined for, dated, fucked... Oh fuck, that makes me feel so sick... what have I done to myself!? I've traumatised myself even further by fucking people of a sex I'm not actually into! And several hundred times... far beyond what I can count... with 19 different men!

It's hella dizzying... No wonder my subconscious eventually just snapped at me and made me instantly grossed out by men and dick. I know not all lesbians are grossed out like that strong reaction, but I think in my case that reaction kiiiinda makes sense. And many traumatised/sexually abused lesbians are really grossed out by men/dick, that's totally a thing. This is shaking me up quite a lot. At the same time as my mind is struggling to truly comprehend that I'm actually gay... Like it's just staring at the almost entirely solved puzzle and just goes "wut?" so I guess I'm a little shocked! I see it that way, like I've almost solved this puzzle now and although there are a few more pieces to add... I can see the picture. I only feel slight hesitation still because of the few missing pieces. But I don't think the final result will be any different to what I already see... I think it will be the same, only clearer.

I am freaked out, and scared... cause I believed all my life this was the one sexuality I could not possibly have... and I'm scared of having to start over with sex and dating, as a beginner again. Although I look forward to it really a lot, and dream about it... it would definitely be a dream to find the right woman and marrying her, all of that! But even just finding a first girlfriend and gently exploring her and she exploring me and be cutesy romantic and bicker about some pet peeves and just... ah it fills me with such warm feelings and giggly excitement! But it makes me nervous and kinda scared too... cause I can't choose to be with men anymore, like I can't lean back on that if it gets difficult with women... oh dear, it feels like I'm gonna have to dive without any safety gear on...

Come to think of it, I've never been able to cum with a guy unless I've distracted myself away from him, with a fantasy or just by closing my eyes and focusing on the feeling itself. That's... dissociating. It was just that feeling of being filled up that I liked about dicks... and thinking they look kinda cool. I don't regret that I tried sex with men, although I wish I had maybe tried it a bit less and not so unhealthily. But I very likely would have enjoyed penetration a lot more with women and dildos/strap-on's instead. I'm sure I would love being on the giving end of that too... I did cum from fantasising about that, once, a week or so ago, and I'm taking that as a sign I might be into it in reality too.

Although I seem to mostly be into being on the receptive end of dildos and straps... I'm versatile about fingering, pussy licking and basically everything else. That about dildos maaay just be me being slightly stuck in heteronormative thinking patterns, but I'm sure I'll come around about it if that's what up with that. I feel I'll be a lot less restricted with women and just wanna try and explore everything! Like it's just all so exciting and sexy! And then if I try something I'm not into it, so what, at least I wanted to try it and did! That, only time will tell. I wonder if cumming with another woman will mean... I might actually get off from focusing on her? I can't know, of course but... I can only imagine that would be an absolutely amazing feeling that would make me cry happy tears for weeks. There's a lot such details that I don't know and can't know with the lack of experience I currently have with women, which does make this a little trickier to really figure out, but I try to use what little information I've got about myself on that, and just work with it.

I suddenly feel really grossed out by all my past experiences with men, like I'm tainted. I know I didn't mean to hurt myself by fucking them, and I know I really thought I was into them... but yikes, just yikes... How do I wash the memories of all those 19 dicks off of me? It makes me shudder at just the thought of it. The thought of dick, and men, touching and feeling me, makes me shudder. I suddenly feel traumatised by all of it, even the good ones. This feels like really the cherry on top of the cake that is all of my traumas, another cruel fate to discover... how is it possible to have this much bad luck in life?

The more I peel this onion that is my traumatised mind... it's absolutely shocking how much there is beyond each layer... I can't fathom it. I just can't. I'm just staring at the mess and what's revealing from underneath it with my mouth open, mind blank and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is the sound "öööööhhh" which is Swedish for "eeeeehhh" of all the things you probably didn't know were actually translatable. But back on topic. It does sadden me... I never got to explore my lesbianism, cause I was too fucking busy repeating my traumas with and obsessing over men/guys that I wasn't actually into. Not only do I have to start over as a woman at 30... I also have to start over as a lesbian at 30... Fuck my life?

Some do realise it later in life, and maybe I should look more into that. If maybe I could feel comforted by hearing others' stories of not having realised being gay until you're definitely an adult and "should have" figured it out long before. Lesbians who've even been married to men and didn't know they weren't into them, for example. I know I blame myself for it, like "how could I not have known?" but I also know I'm not the only one to have had that kind of struggle.

I struggle to move on and tell more of my later crushes, relationships and sexual experiences. It makes me feel sick. And also because I know that the closer I get to present time in my sexual timeline... the more sickening it gets. Perhaps I'll take up on it later on from where I left off this time.

I don't think I've ever been into men. That's what my thoughts and feelings and analysis so far are telling me, and it's kinda heavy. I think I really am a lesbian, and always was, but I struggle with it cause it feels like my whole dating and sex life was built on a lie, already from the start. Cause... that too. My life as a trans guy was a lie, and now my interest in men was too. Knowing that creates a knot in my heart. It's painful. How many lies have I lived through, thinking they were true? How many more? Do I even want to know? Just how tragic can my life be? I want a hug so bad right now. Just a friendly hug, but I wouldn't mind it if it's tight and lasts for a long time. For someone to just squeeze away some of my tensions, fears, worries and panicky feels for a little moment...

I'm gonna need to work through this with fucking heaps of therapy and self-care. This also feels like a betrayal towards myself. I might come out as a lesbian after Christmas if that might help me feel better and accept myself more, but I want to bring this up with my therapist first as well, and I see her next time on January 10th. So gotta hold on until then. She's been warned that that's what I wanna talk about. Don't know if I'll tell my parents anything about it on Christmas when I'm visiting them. If the topic just comes up, I might, but not otherwise. I really don't think they'd have any issues with it. Maybe my mother would be happy/relieved to hear it means I'm suddenly highly unlikely to get pregnant. Really the only way I possibly could would be if I'd be raped by a guy again, or if I'd plan on getting pregnant and look into ways to get inseminated or something. Homosexuality is a great and super effective birth control method! I highly approve of it ;)

Cause of having been so obsessed with men for so very long... I've lost out on women really a lot. And all the denial I fought for so many years... it REALLY was internalised lesbophobia, huh? I went in the entirely wrong direction, just completely... and it feels like a loss. A loss for words, if not else! Jeez, what does one even say to this?! It's probably gonna shock a few friends by the time I come out... Cause I can't think anyone will have expected this... although I did already change my facebook profile where it says what/which gender/-s I'm interested in from both men and women to only women. I don't think most of anyone took notice of that though.

But I do want to write a long and heartfelt post about it when I do decide to come out, when the time is right for that. Might be sooner than I first thought, although I don't think I should rush this. I might come out sooner on places like tumblr or Qruiser though, where I only have one or two friends and not literally everyone I know. Baby steps. I really do look forward to that though, actually. The more I just sit with this feeling and realisation and think and feel about it, the more I'm embracing it. Although it's also scary. Cause, I think this time I actually got it right, and then I think coming out will feel like relief. It never has before. Except from my detransing coming out, but never with sexuality... I think that says a lot, if I'll also feel relieved coming out as a lesbian!

So, let's end on that positive note. I can't, however, promise that this won't keep being upsetting for a while. It's both upsetting and relieving. It's great to be a lesbian, I'm sure, but again... why at this fucking price? Okay that didn't end happily, but just re-read the previous paragraph or something! I've gotta end this painfully long entry now before I fall asleep or something.

It's not your fault

You're shattered on the surface
bleeding and aching to gain control
but you forget what really matters
that there's more to life than this

All these years by your side
it was never about me
cause all we have been through
was on your behalf

You drink and you take pills
to dull my endless rantings in your mind
I hold you and I taunt you
but it doesn't matter what you think of me

You say that I'm not real
thanks a lot but how can you know
maybe it's you who's not real
maybe nothing is what it seems

I'm not that cruel just trying to get by
after all I have nowhere else to go
I know what you have sacrificed
to make the life of ours easier

All the lies and all the declines
through heartbreak and insanity
we were never just one person
never just a human being

I can tell you all you want to know
all that you blocked out or tried to forget
but I can't let you suffer on my behalf
cause I only exist so that you can survive



(Anna's poem that she wrote to me, July 2013.)

Not even in dreams

K, even in my lucid dreams I'm a fool who knows you can't be mine. I dreamed that I had injured my foot somehow and was occasionally in a wheelchair. I had so much fun with it that I pretended my foot was still bad when it no longer was. I was at a huge party, like a family gathering or something and you were there. I was constantly around you, as I had control in that dream, but I was so careful. I told you that I thought of causing myself another injury so that they wouldn't take my wheelchair away. Then just before I woke up, the party was over and we were the only ones left, we were collecting some chairs and put them away and I asked you "best friends?" and you said "forever".

It was a heartbreaking dream, but I loved being around you at that party and fooling around with that wheelchair. It was like an "all good things has an end" -kind of dream and I knew that I was chanceless, but hoped that we could be best friends at least. It was so real, too real. I miss my reality escaping dreams with you. The ones where we used to go on crazy adventures and we were either not sure what the other felt or completely in love with each other. Those were of course even more heartbreaking to wake up from, especially since I found out the truth. But in the very least, they were good while they lasted.

Twice in a few days I have now been lucid dreaming without even trying too. I'm glad that my fucked up brain actually included you this time. For a crazy love fool, I sure dream about you rather little. Not at all every night like some claim to do. We have no power over our subconscious minds, and according to my belief, the random dreams we get when asleep are all the work of our subconscious.

You are on my conscious mind almost 24/7, simultaneously as my eating disorder thoughts are. It's because I have several layers of thought processes and sometimes they switch places but they always co-exist. Two and a half years have passed, I shouldn't be on those pink clouds anymore and in a way I don't think I am. My love for you is so obviously a part of me now and I don't think that will ever change, no matter what happens. No matter how many times my heart breaks because of it.

Yes, you can indeed break an already broken heart. Cause what is broken can always break more. That goes for hearts too. But somehow I think it's worth it, having my heart broken because of my love for you. Cause I've never felt a love so pure, so complete and unconditional before. It is like the purest of essence, love in its purest form. Is it silly that I believe that? Or that I think the whole world would freeze in a matter of seconds before I'll stop loving you?

It's so simple really, so crude, yet so incredibly hard to explain. It has always been this strong, although sometimes it's felt like it's been getting stronger. Like I somehow manage to feel even more. I know even locking away my emotions could never take my thoughts off of you. I know dying won't make me stop loving you either. I just wish things were different. If maybe we lived closer to each other, if maybe we had had more time. I don't know. It feels like you could maybe have loved me too if the timing had been right.

But it wasn't, and I fell for you when you already loved someone else. I mourn what we never had, what I never got. And it makes me feel so empty, as if I've been hollowed out. I was so close to suicide today, but I knew I had to hold on, for you, because I don't want to hurt you. I wish I could make sure somehow, that you're safe and happy, but it never quite works that way. Now that I know I can't have you, in a way I'm letting you go. Be with whoever you want, I just want you to be happy, or at least as content as you can be.

Becoming darkness

If only I had you, this wouldn't be so hard. Living, just living without you is so fucking hard. I don't know how to form simple friendships without them falling for me and without me lying and deceiving. My darkness and chaos tie tightly together and I can't help but blaming this on my demonic nature.

Is my fate just a gnostic chaos, am I turning into a monster? Untrustworthy, liar, deceiver, manipulator, evil, darkness, darkness, darkness... It's taking over me and I feel helpless beneath it. It all started so very long ago, I was 9 or 10 and did the most awful thing I've ever done in my entire life, I still haven't been able to tell a soul. Who it was or what it was. Then, I mostly kept to theft at school and that was it, when I was still a child. Then years passed and I wasn't really doing anything bad.

Then I think I was 20-22 or something fucking late like that when I did the second most awful thing in my entire life and I was really scared by my darkness by then. Of what was becoming of me. My own mind is the scariest fucking place I've ever seen. I regret it, I do, and for long I wanted to believe that that regret made me not evil, that it almost even made me believe I was truly a good person at heart, despite of what I've done.

And then, my love, I started lying to protect my own skin as my memories started coming back to me. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, I know I can't. My lies turned to trickery and deceit, even took it as far as to manipulation. And sometime around there I started realising my demon identity, or what to call it, that I'm otherkin, and then started to be able to name the darkness within me.

But not all demons are evil, and I've been desperately stressing that, desperately wanting to believe I was one of the good demons. But I'm doubting. I'm seriously doubting and I'm becoming all the more scared of the monster I'm becoming. I just broke another heart because of such an incredibly stupid and thoughtless thing I can't even... fathom it. What the hell am I doing? For the second time?

The thing is, my love, that I'm so so scared of one day breaking your heart. If you ever let me in that close, I would do absolutely everything I can and more to make sure that never happens, but what if, baby what if...? I cannot breathe just the thought of it. I seriously forget to breathe and I might choke myself on cigarette smoke and pure pain cause I can't handle having that thought in my head.

Yes, I am saying that I fear of becoming evil. I'm falling down a very dark and twisted road and I can't help myself off it. I have no one to tell these things, no one I trust enough to be able to say exactly what I've done and where I think I'm heading without this incredibly strong fear that I might lose them for saying that.

I'm losing touch with humanity, and right now K, you're the only one keeping me in touch with it. You're the only one not a victim of my lies and deceit, the only one I've never purposely hurt or drawn myself away from. But I'm losing touch with you too and not because of that, oh god I hope not that, but for other reasons. And I believe my loneliness and extreme longing for you (I have only myself to blame for that) is the cause of my erratic behaviour lately.

As I try to keep a distance between myself and the whole world, I still cling onto it so desperately, like wanting to just let go but I can't. What I'm trying to say in more specific words is that I'm constantly forming new relationships and connecting to people, but do it all wrong and weird and only end up hurting people to left and right like never before.

I'm not helping damaged people anymore, I'm the fucking damage that I'm causing them. I don't know who I am anymore someone please help me. I don't want to be like this. The comfort and care that I need and crave, I'm not worthy of it anymore. It hurts to say that sometimes, damaged people do turn to become the damage themselves. I used to think, not that very long ago, maybe five years or so, that nope it doesn't have to be that way. But what if it has...?

You're too good for me and I don't deserve you. I can only hope that I will never hurt you on a significant level. Yes, I'm still selfish, no matter how much I fear hurting you, I simply cannot stay away from you. I don't think you even want me to, not yet at least.

This last event just tore up a hole inside of me and I don't think it can ever heal or be filled. It's a tear in reality now, an empty void. Someone please save my soul.

Stay with me

I can't stop staring at his pictures, and my heart won't stop aching. The pain is almost physical, somewhere on the border. I still haven't heard as much as one word from K, I think he's avoiding me and I can't for the life of me figure out what I could have done wrong. I'm always so careful. Always trying my best to not be clingy but it's been three weeks since we last spoke and it's getting too damn painful. It feels like I'm losing him, but he's not mine to lose.

I tried to talk to him once on the 22nd February and a few times on tumblr since then. I don't know if I should stop, I don't want him thinking I'm abandoning or giving up on him. I just need for him to know that I miss him, like him and I'll wait more if that's what it takes. But I don't know what to do. The coldness he left behind is so powerful, so strong, so forceful. This dull aching, cuts but never bleeds, cries but no tears break out.

I'm in a vacuum, holding my breath until he speaks to me again. Cause I can't live without him. I don't know how to. I forgot it the second I fell in love with him, and that was almost 2 years ago. But time doesn't matter, it's both an eternity and just a split second at once. It's getting harder, turning down anyone that isn't him. I seem to once again just follow along everyone that give me the least bit of attention.

I'm so very, very lonely. But I can't love anyone else than K, I just can't. I gave him my heart and I'm not taking it back. I messed up bad again, but this time it's harder to let go, harder to say no and back away. When I'm just longing for any pair of arms to hold me, anyone's lips pressed against mine, anyone's love. I believe they are a good person, that's not the problem: I am. I'm the one with a black heart who takes and takes, unable to give anything back.

So I let the demon in me form a relationship that I don't truly want. I just want to be with K so bad... just to look into his eyes, feel his arms around me in a friendly hug, just to talk and possibly more, but I don't demand more, I only wish and hope for that. I get greedy, I got greedy when things seemed to go so well during the summer and a little bit into the autumn. But now... I don't know what happened and for christ sake why can't I stop crying.
Cause I can still cry, it's just that I can't shed tears. I cannot make them run for my own sake, only if it involves someone else or something else. I do not know why. But I'm breaking apart. I just want to lie down and not ever get up again. You can pick me up if you want to, but honestly I don't care. He's my only reason to live, and he's slipping away from me. Do you even understand just how dangerous that can become for me? Yeah, I think you do. Cause if he does abandon me, if he completely stops interacting with me... I can't stay.

It hurts when you're gone

I'm losing it, I'm desperately losing it. For I've been waiting for K for almost two years and I don't know what has suddenly happened, for he isn't talking to me anymore. I feel ignored, tossed away, meaningless, stupid for ever thinking I might have a chance with him.

I hold my breath for what can never be. I'd move to Stockholm for him, I'd move anywhere for him. I really wish I could deny every other pleasure in the whole world just to wait for him. I wish celibacy was easy. I wish I was stronger than I really am.

He abandoned me. It feels like he has abandoned me. All I've been trying to do is to be supportive, helpful, a shoulder to lean on, open and inviting for him. I haven't tried to "jump" him or anything. Just one thing I ever asked from him which was his support on Valentine's Day and he didn't do that, but I hold no grudges. I'm sure he had good reasons and even if he didn't, I still forgive him. All I want is to talk to him. That's all I ever want from him. What more, or what less, can I want?

I'm so very appreciative of the smallest thing he can give me. But I'm not. At the same time I'm not and I'm withering away. I break apart inside and don't know what to do. During the autumn, sometime. I think it was in October or August, I actually told him that I like him more than as a friend, and you know what? He told me that he likes me more than just as a friend too. I didn't want to announce it, because it felt way too early, but now... he barely even wants to talk to me, and I know, that he's talking to a lot of other people instead.

I think he's avoiding me, and I don't know what I possibly could have done wrong. Should I just tell him that he's my single one reason to stay alive, to go on living, because dying would hurt him? Should I tell him that I don't just like him more than just as a friend, that I am deeply in love with him and have been for almost two years? Is there any point...?

I'm losing hope, I'm losing my will to live. I try to tell myself that if I die I would hurt him tremendously and I really don't want that. But my only reason to live doesn't even want to talk to me anymore.

Under my skin, and closer

I'm standing on the border between living my life and giving it all up completely. I live my life, but only partially. I try to hope for a better future that would include K at least in some way or another. I try not to give up on that. But some things I have given up on.

Everything feels shallow, hollow and empty. Meaningless, colourless, tasteless, muted and dimmed. Everything except K, who is like a splash of vibrant colours, black and white. He's my saviour, the only reason that I still haven't given up completely, he's what keeps that small spark in me alive. Snuff it out, and I'll be dead.

I'm hanging by a thread, and it breaks a little more the more time passes and the less that happens. As he shies away from me, and I try to move in closer but get ignored or rejected. As he's getting worse and sicker and closer to his own death, I'm getting closer to mine. I'm synced with him, as I fall down when he does, but sometimes I also do that on my own. It feels as if I'm suffering for two people.

I carry his burden, whether I want to or not, and whether he wants me to or not. It's just the way it is. It's heavy, that burden. So many unsolved issues and issues that most likely can never be solved. Though some can, and all I can do is to pray that he will one day accept help for them, so that he can get better. First of all I just want for him to not suffer, secondly I wish I didn't have to suffer for him and thirdly, I wish I didn't have to suffer at all.

Because both our miseries are linked, as I tear apart whenever he does, probably even when none of us are aware of it. And I want to believe, that whatever I'm feeling all on my own, affects him too somehow. Cause I know that he cares, he's just not that good of showing it at all times. But I know that he does. Cause we talk about me too, and not just about him. I think that at least some part of him wants to be there for me as well, although it is hard for him.

And I respect that and I understand it too, even though we aren't that alike in that area. I'm too shying away when I feel down, but not always, and never from him. He does, he shies away from everyone when he's feeling down, even me. And I hate that, cause for once I just wish he needed me as much as I need him. That we could somehow comfort each other, or anything.

It drives me mad, when he goes into solitude, because all I want to do is to hold him and comfort him. But I want what's best for him, I try to be accepting and do as he wants me to: to stay away. He's hard to love. I always feel so very inadequate and maybe that's because I am, because anyone and everyone is. And I know that no matter how much I truly do love him, it is not in my power to heal him. No matter how fucking much I want to.

And it scares me. It scares me to the brink of falling to pieces every day and night. I hold on for him, I have to. I'll stand by his side forever and ever, and I just want him to know that I care with all of my broken heart and homesick soul, that he's my top priority, the love of my fucking life and most certainly worth fighting for. It's worth the chaos, the confusion, all the time in the world and strength that I don't even know how to summon. But I can't, I just can't let him in on that.

Afraid to scare him away with my otherworldly feelings. Afraid he'll take off and leave me. Afraid he wouldn't even believe me. Afraid he'd somehow take it negatively. That all along I had an agenda, to snare him or something. I don't know what exactly it is that I'm so afraid of. That he'd be scared of me and what I feel for him.

All I know, is that I have to tell him before it's too late, but not too early. It's been almost 2 years of crazy affections, and almost 1 year since I sort of got him on the hook, or what to say. Slowly and carefully I've been trying to show him my world and invite him in. Trying to make him let me into his. I've been aching, longing, wanting, dreaming and hoping for so long now it's like I've forgotten what it was like to not be in love with him.

I want to experience everything I do, think and feel with him. I want to live under the same roof as him, share my whole life with him. I want for him to be a part of everything I am and do. And I also want to be a part of everything he is and does. I want him under my skin, and to be under his skin. That close, as close and intimate as you can possibly be with another person. Physically, yes, but mostly emotionally and mentally.

That is the kind of life that I want to live. That is what I think is worth fighting for, or anything between now and that perfect state. Anything, even the smallest something is worth to go on breathing for. To be just one tiny step closer to him, even for just a minute, or a split second. It could be anything. Simply chatting about ordinary/the usual stuff, or holding his hand, seeing him IRL again and hug him, talking on the phone with him, kissing him, knowing he read a poem that I wrote about/for him, watching a movie together, drinking together, anything really.

It's all worth living, and surviving for. It's all worth fighting for. But sometimes I think I'm fighting a bit too much. It's not a game and I'm not supposed to force him into anything. I should rather ask and accept no for an answer. I just crave it so desperately and want it before we die: closeness with him, any form of intimacy, to let him know how much I love him; even if he wouldn't believe me, even if he would freak out or just not know what to say or do in response. I need for him to know, partially because I want to get it off my chest and also partially, because I want him to know that he's not forgotten, rejected or unlovable.

I really do think he might need to hear it, to know it, even if he won't believe it. Because maybe someday he will then. But all I can give him is time. I try not to overwhelm him. I try to keep it calm and light and worth both of our time. I try to draw it out, letting it out little by little in small gestures that he might or might not pick up on.

I move in closer, then back away to not overwhelm him and to give him space. I try to take a bit of a distance, but it's the hardest thing to do when you're dying to get closer than you've ever been.

Love of my life

I met this guy on tumblr, and he seems to like me a lot. Also seems to be ftm as far as I can tell, but I haven't actually asked anything about it. He just wrote me a poem and I don't know what to do quite with myself.

How come really nice strangers come to me like flies to sugar sometimes but I can't get the ONE guy I actually want? I'm doing everything right. Or am I? Cause sometimes I doubt that I'm doing everything right with K. I try not to lie, to not keep important information from him. He's always the first to know when something new is up in my life. I try to be there all the time for him but the thing is: he's never there for me.

And it hurts, cause I need him so fucking much and he's basically never there. I know he's not well, and I want to be the strong one between us two, I want to take care of him at the best of my ability, but don't I too get to get taken cared of sometimes? I'm not well either. Now I'm not asking for an extra shrink, all I want is his shoulder to simply lean on when it's extra rough for me.

We've been close friends for at least 6 months now and good friends for much longer than that. I know, I just know that things are going in the right direction although slowly and I really hate to complain, but my aching need for him is kinda turning into a searing pain that I simply don't know how to handle.

Of course it's Valentine's Day coming up closer and closer, slowly choking me from where I am. And I just need him so much that day it's like I don't know if I can hold solid without him that particular day. The time draws near and I don't know what to say to him. I wish he would come to me, ask me to come over to the main country just to see him. I would be over there in a heartbeat, and he would (hopefully) know that he can count on me. Whatever it is about.

Have I ever judged him? Have I ever laughed at him, thought something mean about him, ever done anything wrong? Yes, well I have done something wrong, but I would literally do anything I can to make up for it, if at all possible. I would do it even if it's not possible. He doesn't yet know about that mistake, but my heart tells me that it would be the right thing to tell him one day. And you should know I kick myself bloody almost every day for that horrible mistake that I seem to have done not once, not twice, but fucking three times. I suck so bad and I honestly feel like I don't deserve him.

Cause I honestly believe that I'm a bad person compared to him. Yeah, I already get mad at him sometimes, but it's all forgiven. Anyone can be annoying, even the love of my life. That's what I mean: I know that he's not perfect, yet I love him endlessly and all his faults too. I could literally live with all his faults for more than a lifetime and be the happiest person on Earth.

I know that it's real. When I've in fever dreams imagined telling him that I will always stay with him, that he can always count on me and I'll always be there for him in every single way I can and I wake up and know that is still true. I'd rather die alone than stop waiting for him. In May, 2 years will have passed and I still somehow love him more for every single day that passes.

And he's not even with me to know or experience it. In my aching heart, I can't help but wonder: will he ever know the true love that I feel for him, before everything is too late? I'm so scared, day and night, that everything will one day completely fall apart. I will deny every request I'll ever get from other people to be with me. Sexually, romantically or both. I want no one's hands on me but his, and my heart belongs to no one else than him. No matter how fucking shattered it is, every single piece of it belongs to him. Every. Single. Piece.

I refuse to choose

I don't want to live forever. It feels like I already have, and forever is a very long time. I know that I thought I was gonna live forever in Dala, that feeling was pretty strong and could apparently pierce through dimensions. When you live for that long, you eventually take everything for granted. Literally everything. In this life I certainly don't, not the truly important things. It doesn't mean I hold on to them extra hard, but that I always keep in the back of my mind that it won't last forever. Cause here, nothing does.

Not even in Dala, apparently. I was there for a very long time, until nothing there was special anymore. Towards the end it had lost its magic, but then I came here and realised that now, I've lost all the things that once meant everything to me. The thing is though, while you can never stop crying over what you've lost, you can always gain something else that you can learn to love equally much. Yes, even here in this awful hell dimension, in this prison of a life.

It took a while for me to understand that, leaving everything I held so dear behind me. For good, or for just this once, I don't know. And it still tears me apart, cause whatever I have to hold on to in this life... it's not enough. It's not enough for miles and it never will be. I can hold on, wait for my dream to come true cause I have nothing else to hope for, wait and wait and just hope that things will turn around. But that's the thing about dreams... they're not real.

I wanted to end there, I really did, but I just can't do that to whomever reads this. I might be chasing my perfect dream like a dog is chasing its tail, but it's not all that hopeless, cause don't I somehow live while that chase is going on? I don't know why I'm still alive and right now it doesn't matter. I don't care. I'm tired of living but I'm not ready to die yet.

If someone would give me that one pill to just end it all, completely pain free and without devastating consequences, I would say no. I don't know why, but somehow I'm still curious about life. I want to see my friends grow older, see what happens to them, I want to see if me and K could ever... and I know that I have to give it time, as much time as any of us have.

Cause I'm running on a low flame and he's not well. It's all I can say about him, if even that. I'm worried sick day and night but he's still the light of my life, he's what keeps that low flame burning at all within me. And I can't give up, for his sake if anything. I still breathe because of him. I think ironically, suicide is out of my hands, and sadly, it depends on him, and us. I don't even know if I should confess such a thing, but seeing as you still don't know who he is, no harm no foul, right?

I'm still trying to figure it out. Why I will kill myself one day and why I haven't yet already. But the answer, I believe, is on the other side. I've given up hope on ever being able to love, or even just like, life.

Life hates me and I hate it back. I'm just waiting for my last gasp of air without actually trying to kill myself. I don't want to live, and I don't want to die. I can't choose. I'm stuck between two options and I refuse to choose. I believe that's why I leave it up to K. It's horrible of me, I know, but that's how I live right now. That's why I'm not suicidal, that's why I at the same time don't care what happens to me. It's the only explanation that I have.

Waiting

I see him everywhere. In pictures, and in real life. I know it isn't him, but my mind somehow interprets it that way. It's not like I think he looks like everyone or that everyone look like him. Cause that's really not the case. It's more like I just want it to be him. That it would be him walking past me on the street in Hemse, that he would somehow be here, close to me. If only to just say hi or even just a quick wave.

I need him so damn much, but he doesn't need me. I crave, long, ache for him. I'm trying to find substitutes but nothing works. Like holding ice can be a substitute for self harm but it doesn't quite cut it, you know what I mean? Yes, pun intended.

I'm so terribly lonely and sad. Wishing I could shift back to the light me again, but I'm coping better this way. And like this I don't have to "fear" shifting again. Cause it's better to shift from dark to light than the other way around, for some reason. I wouldn't say either is more positive or negative, but I like the lighter half better. It's because the dark half is triggered, the light isn't. I shift back when I'm ready or something and then shift to dark again when triggered by something bad. Apparently either state lasts about a few days.

My distractions aren't working today. And writing like this is hardly a distraction at all, rather the opposite. I play a lot of WoW, but I don't really want to. It doesn't help or anything. Just passing time cause I can't think of anything better to do. Putting cloth heirlooms on a balance druid. Well, intellect is good and I level faster. Who cares that I might come off as the noob I am? I don't have leather heirlooms yet.

I write so much and can't decide what I want to share or not. Most of it I don't want to share. A lot of rantings about K mostly. My worries and fears. I'm gonna try to go to sleep soon. Enough waiting for today. Yeah, I'm waiting every day now, for him. I'm restless and upset, something is ripping and tearing inside me. Not so fun going to sleep like this, but it's 3:47 and I can't stay up waiting for something that won't happen.

With my heart on the edge

I still miss him, but I don't know what to say here. If I start writing about him and what's been up, he'll definitely know it's him if he reads this. If he doesn't already know, that is. But yeah, I'd say things are going in the right direction now.

I don't even know why I'm so scared of him possibly finding out that it's him, but I think it's because I want him to know for sure first, that I tell him face to face. And not for him to read this and think "oh shit, it's me" and then possibly never talk to me again.

It's become complicated for me to figure how just how much I wanna share with the world. But I don't want to leave it out entirely. Does that make any sort of sense? That I'll just give you vague hints that something new is up but I don't want to say what it is. Sorry for that.

Well, I want you to know but at the same time I don't. I'm not making any sense, I'm tipsy and a bit ecstatic. For the first time ever, I notice something has changed for the positive in all this. It gets my hopes up.

I'm so curious about him, it's like I wanna know everything. Usually I'm all about talking about myself, but now it's more like I wanna talk about him, with him, instead. Make him the centre of attention instead of myself. He's such an inspiration to me. Like I take tips and advice from him, wanna look like him, do what he does and so on. Trying not to get triggered by the not so good things he does and feels. But I'm easily triggered by anything these days.

All of this is a bit weird for me. This new kind of way I feel love for him. That I've never loved anyone else like this before. He's so fucking awesome, I don't know what kind of magic he uses on me! Seriously, this is insane, what I'm feeling. So incredibly strong, so crude and almost unnatural. Unnatural, because how is it even possible that I love him so much?

I wish I could fall in love the way normal people do. How is that exactly? I don't know. Maybe I just want it to be mutual. I want what you see in movies; where you meet and hit off, then one thing leads to another and you slowly develop stronger feelings for one another until you one day say "I love you". I want that. I crave it so much it hurts sometimes.

Sometimes I wish I could fall out of love with K so that I could start over. Get to know him, see if there's any interest back and then fall in love again if there is a spark. Does that sound weird? Cause I don't want to be with or love anyone else. No matter how likeable another person I come across may be. No matter if a wonderful person suddenly would come into my life and be interested in me.

I've made my choice, but alas, I can't control my crazy heart. No matter how much I'd like to. I want to tell it that it cannot ever love anyone else, tell it that this is enough, enough heartbreaks and enough pain.

Hell is living without you

This joyride cannot last if I can't find a way to hold on to it. It's been two months and all I do is sit on my ass cause I'm afraid I'll break down again if I got up. And I don't know what I want to do. I'm afraid that I might not want anything at all. There's the war in my heart as well, that as long as my only wish is to be with K it's not gonna be easy to find something else to aim for, if you know what I mean.

I've been in this situation before, when all I see is that one person and they are my whole world. Blinded, so totally blinded by love for someone who is or might as well be unobtainable. If only I lived closer, then it would be easier. Even if he isn't interested, it would be easier still. Easier to meet, to talk and to know where things are going.

This is more like an internet crush, just that "crush" isn't exactly the right word for how I feel. But living so far away, it's not like I'm in love with someone I can just meet to hang out with on a Wednesday afternoon for a chat and a coffee or whatever. We can't even meet up as friends, class mates or colleagues, go partying together or just pass each other by on a street on our separate ways to somewhere.

I'm locked inside my computer. Cause no matter where he is, I know he always comes back online and there is where I am. And there I always am, staring at his pictures, waiting, hoping, dreaming, longing. I can never be further, I can never be closer.

So how much of a chance could I really have? My dream would be a long distance relationship, or that I could move in with him or he moves in with me. Probably that I would move in with him, since I don't really have any connections here on Gotland, but then he would have to take care of me cause I'm in need of LSS and that crap which I won't be likely to get in Stockholm over night. I've always wanted to live in Stockholm, by the way. The big city where everything happens. Where he is.

Yes, I've thought about that too. But my dream is killing me. I don't like dreaming, I hate dreaming, cause the dreams never come true. They are just painful, haunting me like a cruel joke. It's a curse, dreaming. I learned that from early on, that dreams can only be shattered, but I can't stop. I love him so damn much it's just not true, how can it be? I don't even know him that well. I don't understand my complicated heart, it just does whatever it wants and it always gets me into trouble. But I would do anything to be with him, anything.

I would leave this wonderful apartment that I can almost call my home in a heartbeat, I would stop being a Satanist, I would spend all the money I have, I would move to another country or I would even quit smoking for good. I'm not just throwing around those words, I know what they mean, I know what I mean. How much he means to me. He is my world.

I just remembered, that when I started to fall for him last spring, and knew I couldn't resist anymore. The thoughts of him steadily increased and after several tries of not falling in love with him I asked myself: wouldn't life be a little better if I was in love?

That worry

Oh my god, I'm so worried right now. He seems to have someone on his mind, someone that he likes, but I don't know who it could possibly be. Please don't fall in love with someone else, please don't enter a new relationship that I'm not a part of, please don't leave me like this...

I don't even know if I have a chance anymore. Maybe I never did. But why? Why do I keep falling for unobtainable people? I cannot fall for the few who have fallen for me (I can count to two, maybe three in my whole life, I'm really not very loveable) and I end up miserable I always do in the end.

Why is this always happening? Can it ever be us? If I just hold on a little longer, just a little longer. Or act now, right fucking now in a desperate attempt to make him realise what he might lose if he goes to someone else. Oh god, I can't do that to him. I don't want to give him guilt because I can't handle my fucking feelings for him.

I'm just ranting, it's like I can't breathe right but I do. I can't think straight. Could it be me, could it even? Is it even remotely possible? I live so far away and we've only really met once. I'm an internet friend and that's probably all he knows. He probably doesn't know that I'm constantly blogging about him, that he's constantly on my mind and I can't live without him.

What would he think if he knew? Cause what if he does. What if he does and the only reason he hasn't come forward is to not hurt my feelings cause he doesn't feel the same way? I've thought about that before, but I still can't wrap my head around it.

I'm so scared of losing him, even though I know that he's not mine to lose. I can't imagine the pain if he someday soon shows up to be in a relationship with someone knew, before we meet again. What would I say when we meet then? Would it just be a total disaster or won't I even be able to tell him? Would I even be able to tell him?

Why can't I frigging plan around it, prepare myself for the worst. I've never been very good at that, cause somehow the worst I can imagine still isn't as bad as the outcome. I sense that I lack some imagination in that area. So what will I do then? Calm down, one thing at a time, but I can't stop thinking about it.

Fucking shit, I have another sleepless night ahead of me. Not again! I'm tired of that crap too and all I want to do is to sleep my pain away and wake up rested and peaceful. But I never do. Not after nights like this.

Please, can someone tell me what to do? I can't really stand this much longer. I can't ask him who it is. If he had wanted me or anyone else to know he wouldn't be so secretive about it. It's killing me but I have to respect that. I just have to.

Somehow I need to put this to rest, or at least try to take it as it comes. I can't keep thinking about it, worrying about it. It will only tear me to pieces. Unrecognisable pieces and I don't think I'll ever be able to repair myself again. That much is my happiness worth right now. It's very fragile and something like this would shatter it in a heartbeat and forever break my heart.

And I'll keep trying

Oh, noodles! It's been over 40 hours since I last ate something and damn one appreciates food like never before after fasting. Even I do. Though with all the cream I add in it there's quite much calories, so I can't eat anything else today. I'm trying to stay under 500 kcal a day. It is very little, but trust me, I know my body too damn well, and as I'm trying to lose weight I have to eat very little.

I don't want to give up on piercings. Just saying I want to try to get some again. I've wanted septum for some time (maybe a few years) but since I'm blowing my nose constantly I doubt it's gonna work cause it would be nearly impossible to keep it clean for it to heal. Giving up on my eyebrow though. It's a superficial piercing and my body hated it from the time I got it in 2010 up until I took it out for the surgery in March. No, can't get it back in again, I tried.

So I'm thinking about getting a new centre labret again. Second time. Take better care of it this time. I might do it when I get to the main country, since there are no good piercing studios here on Gotland. And I need to go behind my mother's back again... But I want to have something in my nose as well, so that I can wear a chain going from my ear. They look so cool, and I've always wanted that too.

Just got back from the gym. I'm still not used to going there, I'm a bit edgy and nervous. Especially when passing through the men's locker room. No doubt about it, that's where I belong, but my insecurity shines like the sun. So anyway, I had been on the bike for 20 minutes (burned 97 calories) and really needed some water. I didn't bring my own bottle so I thought I'd just use the tap in the locker room. But then there was this big guy just standing there and I was like "eeek just gonna have some water oki bye bye". I didn't say that of course, but I must have looked absolutely frightened.

My mind started wandering again and again I can't stop thinking about K. I tried though, thought I must write about something else, finish this blog entry without mentioning K, but who am I trying to fool? Of course I had to mention him again. I'm really spell bound by him right now. Like, what's he doing to me? No I know that it's not actually him doing something to make me feel that way, or at least I don't think so. If it is, then I won't complain at all!

Loving you since June

I'm afraid K might fall in love with someone else. If he does, I don't know what I'll do. I don't want to know what I would do if that happens. Too painful just to think about. I'm so scared of it, scared I will come clean about my feelings for him too late. Afraid he's gonna say that I could have had a chance but not anymore. I could even be years too late... what do I know.

That would be even worse than total rejection. But it could also mean that I could keep on waiting for him, cause he could fall out of love again and reconsider me. At least that could be possible, right?

I've known him but not really known him since about 2010, I think. Could have been before then. I honestly don't remember exactly when and how we came across each other online, but I have an idea. That still bugs me, cause I want to be able to tell that "there and then was when we met" you know. Now it's like he's always been in my life.

No, I will never let go of him. Even if I would have to wait a whole lifetime through until we are old and grey, and I think I'll keep loving him even after I die, whenever that will be. I've never felt like this for another person ever before. Is that sad? That my love for him runs so deep that I'm prepared to wait for him forever if it would come to that. I think that even if he rejects me I still wouldn't let go. I'll never stop loving him. Will I waste my life loving someone unobtainable? Is he even unobtainable? There's so much I don't know.

But isn't it kinda sweet too? That he can always rely on me that I'll love him no matter what. Unconditionally. Cause he really can, trust me with that, I just don't know if he knows that. I'll tell him though, when we meet in person, and I'll try not so sound like a total creep cause I'm so obsessed with him. Blinded by love. Is that creepy? Yeah, I've made my decision. I'm gonna tell him.

And I listen to David Bowie's song "As the world falls down" and think of K. "As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone, wasn't too much fun at all. But I'll be there for you, as the world falls down..."

Bargain

A part of me now believes that I sold my soul to the devil for a nice body and luck in love. The down side would be that I will only live for a few more years, and then I will inevitably kill myself. I accepted that (though it took some time), but it wasn't until recently that I added one plus one, so to say.

Things have gone remarkably well lately, and always when I pray to Satan he fulfils my wishes. But to what price? That's why I didn't understand it before. When I signed that contract in my own blood, things started to change.

Have I not watched Ghost Rider?! Yes, I have and a gazillion other movies that depicts just how much of a bad idea it is to sign contracts with your own blood. Stupid fuck!

I don't know what will happen after I die because of this, but I think I only sold a part of my soul, not the entire kit. I don't even carry around all of my soul. Some of it is somewhere else, and incommunicado, you know.

I couldn't just let myself get ravaged by misery until I break and kill myself because my whole life just became a horrible mistake. I'd rather be satisfied for just two years and then kill myself because I know that my time is up. Leave this world feeling that at least I had something in the end. It's worth it, damn it's worth it.

I realise that for the bargain to work I still have to pray and work my ass off to achieve what I want for the rest of my life. Then what's the point? You might ask. The point is that I will be able to reach my goals without failing. It won't be and it isn't a fairytale magic thing. Satan can't make my scars after the surgery to heal miraculously over night, for example, but what he can do is to make sure that it heals well and without complications. (If that doesn't happen we're gonna have a little chat)

The bargain is about changing two major parts of my life for the better. The trans related stuff, and mostly my dysphoria. My body, in simplicity. Then it's also about my love, K, and my feelings for him. And that's why I still get depressions, nightmares, phobias, sleep- and eating problems and such. Cause that isn't a part of the bargain.

It is much, since my life literally depends on those two things. I can get by with bad habits (especially since I'm not gonna live so much longer) and most of my problems can be helped or fixed with medication and psychotherapy. But my dysphoria, and my fucked up heart... that I really needed some help with.

But of course this could all also be a delusion. It's not normal to believe that you sold your soul to the devil...

Losing you

It's like I've lost a part of myself, when I lose myself completely and can't find my way back without guidance. Maybe not even with, cause maybe there is no way back. I look at him and I wonder. For the first time, a thought slipped into my head: why can't I stop loving you? I've never wanted that, I didn't think that I did. Perhaps the pain is finally exceeding what is wonderful about it.

And now as I see clear, or clearer at least, I think new insights are possible. That I'm not so blinded anymore. The risk of becoming "safe" with emotions is that they may fade. I don't want them to fade, it would be like losing you. Though I never had you to begin with, and with no intention of owning you, it still feels like I'm losing you somehow. When in fact, I'm only losing some of those feelings. I hope not, I want to cling to them, I need to whether I'd like to or not.

I have to because they are my life force now and they always were. That thing that I wrote earlier about them being essential for my survival. And even though I'm much stronger now, I can't take the risk. I may fear the weirdest things, but I think I have good reasons to. Past experiences, for instance.

Though I didn't die last time, it was a hell to get through and I know I did everything wrong, but I did what I could at the time being. I might as well have died, you know. Cause something inside me did. It was like a part of my soul was brutally ripped out at the same time as my heart was broken. When suicide was the only option. Five times I tried, but I don't know, it was like I gave up after that. Like I just understood that it was out of my power, that I couldn't control destiny or what happened to me. In the past or the future. The destiny that I never wanted to believe in, cause it was so cruel.

That little relapse into the suicidal drama I had last summer really had nothing to do with love. It was only fear, and I tried to escape a horrible future. I was in love already, as I clinged to his picture and hesitated to mention him in my suicide letter. Thinking I didn't want him to know if I died, that it would put a terrible burden and sorrow on his part. I'm considerate that way.

No, it's like love is my drug to survival, ironically. Cause it's also my ticket to death, but it's two sides of a coin, you know. I think a lot of things work that way, that you can always turn them up-side-down and they become their opposite. The cure becomes a poison so easily. Love is so fragile that way, I've come to realise. And dreams are too.

So what can I do, but to hope that my love for him won't become my poison? I still have so much to learn, and I want to know about the good sides of love. I crave it so intensively, but all I've ever had are impossible dreams and chanceless hopes. Hence why I almost always tag these kind of entries with both "hope" and "hopelessness" cause it's always a sting of both.

Yeah, I feel as though I will never experience that. True love. Cause no matter who I fall in love with it's always the wrong person, cause either they have the wrong sexual orientation or they're already seeing someone or they live 100 miles away. Or heck, why not all three for a change?

No, I will never fall in love again. If that means cutting myself off from humanity all together, then so be it. I've had enough of unrequited love for a lifetime or maybe even two. I don't even know for sure if this is unrequited, I leave that option open for just a little longer. Cause you never know until you know. And I don't know, not for sure. The problem is though that I don't want to know. It is not an option that I want to cross over on my pending list of eternal doom, you know what I'm saying?

Perhaps I'm not so clear in all my scribbles sometimes, I can get a little fast with the keyboard sometimes, now when I write as fast in English as in Swedish it can get kinda wild. What I meant is that if he was to tell me it's never gonna happen, I'm sure that I will fall and I won't be coming back. Ever. That last fall which of course will be both figuratively and literally meant and I will make sure I won't survive it. Jump high enough and there will be nothing left but meat loaf. But enough about my wild fantasies, which I shouldn't share that often, it's creepy.

So yeah... I'm planning my own death but at the same time I don't want to do it. It's just that I know that it has to be done. That there is no ther way. And I hope that I won't need to in a very long time, but I don't think it will be in such a long time. I've been keeping that part from my shrinks, but only because I don't want to be marked off as another hopeless case. I know I need whatever help they can give me in the form of pills and meetings. And I've been meaning to take up that dealing with past traumas kinda shit, but I just can't muster it. It's tearing me apart just thinking about it, so how the hell can I bring it up? And no, I can't tell my mother to tell them, cause I can't muster that either. One day... one day I might.

I got off track, sorry. I just can't find a way to finish this entry, cause there is no finish, there is no punch line. It just goes on and on and sometimes on hold and sometimes stronger, but it never ends. Maybe all I can say is that love will tear me apart, one day or another.

A part of me

I don't write so much about him in my blog anymore, cause maybe it makes me nervous now that I know that he reads it. But I'm still in love, and very much so, I just don't know how to appropriately display that. Cause maybe I should just keep it to myself? I'm not really modest, quite the opposite in fact, I just don't know what to do with these feelings that basically still are allover the place. Maybe love is always like that, allover the place and kinda intangible.

Getting a little nostalgic over when I first fell in love with him, cause even though it was painful and I resisted it so much, it was still kinda sweet. Caressing. I don't exactly know what I'm actually nostalgic over, cause it's better now that I've contained most of those sprawling emotions and kept them safe. Cause now that my love for him has reached in so deeply and become essential for my survival, it's like I've become safe with them. Like they became a part of me somehow.

Cause they are, you know, essential for my survival. I think that the only way I can survive is to keep those feelings alive and well inside me. That if my dream would shatter then so would I. I try not to think about it that way, cause I know somehow that it will happen, sooner or later. Sort of when I will come to my senses, cause however much I deny and deny and deny it some more there's not such a high chance that we will end up together.

It feels weird writing about this like that, too look at it a bit from the outside, to get a glimpse of what it really is, this obsession. Just how it changes me, cause it still does. And I wonder, a little bit, is it more about the feeling than it is about him? No, it isn't. Cause my feelings may be stronger than mountains, but nothing is more important than him. It's the person that I adore, not the love that I feel.

It might appear that way because of how I write, but it's basically just to protect him you know, protect him from being on display on my very public blog. No one else can know about him, who he is and what I know. It stays between us, or maybe just in my head. And I do that because I care so much, not because it's an obligation of loyalty or whatever. (Loyalty should never be an obligation, but to some people it is.) So I simply write about what I can share, which is my stupid feelings, which means that they get more focus, obviously.

So you see, there's still much that I have to say. But it tends to become repetitive, and I can't upload however much shit on my blog if it's all gonna be just the same old rantings. Meaningless or meaningful rantings are also better left in my own head. Cause I don't need to share everything, you know, even though I am like an open book.

But I do want to share a lot, get it out of my system, and to let him know. That I'm still here, and he's not forgotten or anything. And somehow it feels better when I've written and published, as if a part of my burden has been lifted. Well, I could go on with this forever, but that would be too much to edit so I'll just leave it at that.