You know that super cliche and lame saying “there’s a little bit of truth behind every just kidding”? How much truth?

I’m curious.

My man, who’s not my man, tends to make ‘jokes’ and then when I think he’s being serious, and either shut down or get obviously upset, he claims he’s joking. But he’ll continue to make the same joke.

Now, I don’t want to shit on him as a person. Because honestly he’s pretty fucking rad, and he’s definitely treated me better than anyone else I’ve ever been with (although from some of my posts I’m sure that’s not hard to believe). He treats me wonderfully, and I love his sense of humour.

So, am I being an over-emotional lil’ bitch (my words) or is he secretly trying to tell me something, but pussies out when I get sad?

I’m conflicted, and the more I think about it, the more I panic. And I really don’t want to panic. He always makes jokes. About everything. Not just things that make me sad, but lots of topics.

So, readers, if anyone is out there, give me advice. What can I say that says “hey, if that how you feel, then that’s okay, but if it’s not how you feel, then like … stop with the jokes”

I mean I could probably just say it that way, but where’s the fun in that?

I’m fucked.

If you knew me 7 years ago, you wouldn’t believe that I’m the same person.
If you knew me even two years ago you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person.
I’ve been through shit.
And like I say, probably too often, I’m not always proud of shit I’ve done.
The guy I lost my virginity to was the one who smacked me. That obviously set a pretty low standard for “love” for me. I put it in quotations because back then I thought that’s what love was. A few months later I went to a party. I drank too much. I went to bed alone. I woke up in a terrible condition and was told by the girl who was supposed to be my best friend in high school that some guy came into my tent and had sex with me. She didn’t stop it. No one else there stopped it. I was so incoherent. I was also told I called him the wrong name. Clearly, had no clue what was going on.
In university I started dating this guy, and he was so ashamed of me and made me feel like complete trash, but manipulated me into thinking I needed him. I was the “college” girlfriend while he had a girlfriend back home the entire time.
Shortly after, I reached out to a friend to talk about how to get over a breakup, as he was going through one too. We became close, we dated, I was hesitant, he told me he loved me, I believed it. He cheated on me and got another girl pregnant and moved to BC literal days after I found out and ended it with him.
I spiralled.
I wanted to disconnect feelings from sex. I wanted to hurt guys the way they always tended to hurt me.
I spiralled.
I had causal hook ups. Repeats. Rarely a one night stand, but I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for these guys, and that I’d drop them on a dime if I found someone better.
I lied to myself saying it was fun. Or cool. Or whatever to make myself sleep and feel like a godess when in reality I was the epitome of trash.
And then I met my most recent ex. And he was different. And everyone said he was different. And the good different. And I wasn’t sure. So I waited. We hung out, basically dating but without the title for 9 months before we made it official. The whole time he was still hooking up with his ex. Because he accidentally sent me a text he meant to send her (with her name in it). And he also accidentally called me her name one day. And I told myself I couldn’t be mad because we weren’t official. But I was hurt. But he was different, according to everyone else. We dated for 5 years. And I’d be lying if I said the last three I was happy. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want out after 2. And that I didn’t try. But I stayed. Because that’s what you do. You work it out. But we didn’t argue. So there wasn’t really working out to do. It was our personalities that were incompatible.
It wasn’t until we broke up that everyone started telling me we weren’t right for eachother. The same people who encouraged it. The same people who “wished they had what we have”.
Shortly after I made a friend from talking about pokemon. I told him I didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t either. He told me he loved me after 6 weeks, I told him it wasn’t like that, I remember the timing because he said “it’s been 6 weeks. I thought we were there”. He threatened to kill himself if I didn’t give him a chance.
I didn’t. He didn’t.
I relapsed into my ex. Because maybe he was good. Maybe he was different. Maybe I was being irrational.
He was sleeping with another girl the entire time of our relapse. And then re-ended it with me a day before going “Facebook official” with the other girl (fact, also his ex before me. If that’s not foreshadowing idk what is).
I’ve been hurt, and betrayed, and broken, and beat down in possibly every sense. But I still believe in loving another human being. And wanting to find that one.
I’m definitely fucked up from it. I’ll never say I’m not mentally, emotionally or even physically traumatized from this. It’s always going to weigh on me. I’m always going to have gut feelings of “this has happened before and it lead to _____” fill in the blank. But I also know that there are good people. And that there are people who don’t want to intentionally fuck you up.


I’ve been away for a while – not in a real sense, but in the writing sense. And as I was going through my posts, I found that I talked a lot about a lot of people who barely made a blip on my life. And those are not the people who I want to engrave on a blog. Okay, maybe engrave is the wrong word because its like … fucking digital, but you know what I mean.

So, last year was about figuring me out and writing when I needed an escape. This year, is the revamp, refresh, and the beautiful story on where my life is now.