Un Pas a La Fois

Un Pas a La Fois

Rant Time :D

Okay, so when Caleb and I first met he was in a relationship. I was also in a relationship. A bit after my then-boyfriend and I broke up, Caleb and I started talking. He had told me that he and his girlfriend had also broken up. So we got really close and started dating and it was great. Until five months later I found out that he and his girlfriend had never broken up. So I was obviously extremely angry when I found out. I was rude about it, too, I’m not going to lie. The first thing I did was tell his other girlfriend. Ever since then she has hated me. As it was somehow my fault, and I’m the one who hurt her.They broke up (as did we), but Caleb and I remained such good friends that we inevitably slipped back into our relationship. After the hell I put him through when I found out about it, I decided I’d forgive him, and slowly allowed him to gain my trust back (though, obviously, never fully).

And so when he died, I thought that I would be nice and even though I was screaming at the world and crying on the couch all day, I decided that I would tell her what had happened, because while they were no longer together and no longer talking, she did mean something to him at one point. At both the viewing and funeral I was very cordial and kind. After he died, though, I would post my memories (I’m a writer so I was doing a cool little memory tribute thing) . I would also post pictures of us and she ALWAYS felt the need to insert herself into my grief. Little comments like “oh he did that when we were together, too” and “I remember when we….” And so a month or two ago she basically told me “get over it, stop talking about him, stop posting your memories, move on and grieve in silence.” Which is extremely disrespectful, and I have not talked to her (nor liked her) since that day. 

So she unfollows me on instagram, but I keep following her because I like to keep tabs on the people who do me wrong (yes I know it’s unhealthy, whatevs). Today she posted screenshots of an essay she wrote about him for one of her classes. And I’m honestly so angry. Like alright I’m a bad person for talking about him but when you do it’s fine and no big deal? Okay?

She also wrote in the essay that his mom texted him he was dead. And I’m sure she did. But I was the first one to text her, and are you kidding me. Like I fucking told you my boyfriend died in the middle of a fit of sadness and anger because I’m a good person, and you’re saying it was someone else because you hate me that much? okay. wow. 

no wonder he didn’t want to date you. to quote his mom “towards the end he just wasn’t feeling it anymore. she wasn’t very deep. I always knew you were the one for him, not her” 

UGH. You are now on the list of now 2 people that I hate. 

la félicité

la félicité

English is such a hard language to learn!

Americans who think their language being difficult somehow means they’re more intelligent.

In reality, English is a VERY easy language for anyone who speaks a language which uses the same alphabet. But okay, man, you’re a special little snowflake because you were brought up speaking a “difficult” language that you can hardly even use properly when it comes to academia.

flukenluke:

I personally hate seeing all this Sam Pepper shit all over my dash. I think he likes the attention he’s getting, and we should just drop it all together because there isn’t much we can do, other than what we already have. We can’t force him to say sorry, (even though he should) we can’t force him to get off YouTube, we can’t make him do anything. 

Because when women are sexually assaulted and raped, we should just drop it, because then obviously the problem will go away on its own. Obviously.

Hier soir j’ai eu un cauchemar qui semblait être bien trop réel. Je me suis réveillée en pleurant et tremblant.  

As you may not be aware (or maybe you are), the boy I had been dating for a year died in March in a car accident. Because I’m a writer, I decided to try out writing a memory book as a way to comfort myself in his death. As this boy was very important to me (basically single-handedly saved me from EDNOS and self harm within tthe year we were together). Before tonight, I hadn’t touched the file (or physical book in which I am transcribing the memories) in about a month. This set of memories has been floating around in my mind a lot recently as I’ve had a tough time resisting relapse. I decided I needed to get them written down. 
The reason I’m sharing this one on tumblr when I haven’t shared the others is because I think that the way he handled my scars and my depression was very admirable. I wish more people could strive to be like this. Obviously random people shouldn’t kiss your scars, but in a figurative way, everyone should be comforting and caring and concerned
TL;DR: when someone has scars, embrace them and respect them. Everyone deserve to know that they are loved, whether it’s by kissing the scars, or just telling someone you love them. 
As you may not be aware (or maybe you are), the boy I had been dating for a year died in March in a car accident. Because I’m a writer, I decided to try out writing a memory book as a way to comfort myself in his death. As this boy was very important to me (basically single-handedly saved me from EDNOS and self harm within tthe year we were together). Before tonight, I hadn’t touched the file (or physical book in which I am transcribing the memories) in about a month. This set of memories has been floating around in my mind a lot recently as I’ve had a tough time resisting relapse. I decided I needed to get them written down. 
The reason I’m sharing this one on tumblr when I haven’t shared the others is because I think that the way he handled my scars and my depression was very admirable. I wish more people could strive to be like this. Obviously random people shouldn’t kiss your scars, but in a figurative way, everyone should be comforting and caring and concerned
TL;DR: when someone has scars, embrace them and respect them. Everyone deserve to know that they are loved, whether it’s by kissing the scars, or just telling someone you love them. 

As you may not be aware (or maybe you are), the boy I had been dating for a year died in March in a car accident. Because I’m a writer, I decided to try out writing a memory book as a way to comfort myself in his death. As this boy was very important to me (basically single-handedly saved me from EDNOS and self harm within tthe year we were together). Before tonight, I hadn’t touched the file (or physical book in which I am transcribing the memories) in about a month. This set of memories has been floating around in my mind a lot recently as I’ve had a tough time resisting relapse. I decided I needed to get them written down. 

The reason I’m sharing this one on tumblr when I haven’t shared the others is because I think that the way he handled my scars and my depression was very admirable. I wish more people could strive to be like this. Obviously random people shouldn’t kiss your scars, but in a figurative way, everyone should be comforting and caring and concerned

TL;DR: when someone has scars, embrace them and respect them. Everyone deserve to know that they are loved, whether it’s by kissing the scars, or just telling someone you love them. 

Before You Tell Me I'm Lying

anonsurvior111:

Something that was dumb that I did (I’ve never been in this situation before, I was not prepared) was to not provide more proof. These are serious accusations. If I expect anyone to believe me then, yes, there should be proof.

So:

  1. Sam and I exchanged texts before meeting. They were flirty. I…

I was sexually assaulted by Sam Pepper.

shirleyhatessam:

Thank you so much for sharing! I’ve started the hashtag #SaveYouTube to protect YouTube and its users, be they viewers or content creators, from people like Sam Pepper. Please use it on Twitter and your other social media accounts, thank you. Shirl xx

My name is Shirley, I’m 18 and I’ve created…

definitely by no definition can this be considered rape like the second paragraph suggests, BUT in case you’re unaware of the trash that is Sam Pepper, basically he posts youtube videos of him harassing women and in real life he preys on underage (by US standards) girls, many of whom have shared stories of him sexually assaulting them, just like this story. This is sickening. It happens every day, but that’s the beauty of this story; it has garnered so much attention because of him being so “high-profile” that good things can happen in society because of it. These women being so forward is inspiring, and they are very strong putting themselves out there to be harassed and abused for speaking the truth. Hopefully something good can come from this now that light has been shed on the issue

Tmi so unless you care about my sex life scroll past

Alright so my ex was a pretty decent guy and he always made a really good effort during sex. Like he always tried so hard to get me to orgasm but he never could. He always ended up lasting maybe a minute on a good day. And I didn’t want to tell him he wasn’t very good because it always felt good I just didn’t get anything out of it and I thought it was just me, so I ended up getting really good at faking orgasms. So then we break up and I fall back into my depression and my ex’s best friend is nice to me and I’m like fuck it and have sex with him partly to get back at my ex. And it was horrible I was not attracted to him at all so it really ducking hurt and I had to make him leave before he even finished because I felt so dirty and gross. And then Caleb comes along and wow. Okay so both my ex and Caleb were virgins when I slept with them, but Caleb was significantly better at everything. Caleb didn’t even have to try. The only time I ever orgasmed with my ex was when he was doing stuff with his fingers and I actually got involved and did all the work. So I resigned myself to the fact that only external stimulation would do anything. And then there’s Caleb who has his dick in me for five minutes (he actually always lasted at least 15 minutes of actual sex) and he did more for me than my ex did in our entire five month relationship.

And Caleb was awesome for other reasons, too. He would kiss me from head to toe. He never rushed into the sex because he genuinely enjoyed the closeness that foreplay brought. One time he kissed all of my scars one by one. And so now here I am, refusing to sleep with a rando because it was so horrid the first time. It’s been six months and one week since I had sex and I can’t handle it.

The worst part is that every time I try to get it done myself my thoughts always drift to Caleb and I start bawling because 1) he’s dead, and 2) how fucking wrong is it to think about my dead boyfriend fucking me??? (Granted he wasn’t dead when he fucked me but still it makes me feel dirty) And I keep having these graphic sex dreams about him and I cannot deal with it.