An Aromantic In Love

My new relationship has made me question my identity.

I spent a lot of years figuring out my identity. I didn’t have much of one in high school, and it took a while to build one and figure myself out. It was a journey of self discovery that ended in my identification as aromantic and asexual. And even after I determined that was me, it still took a while after that to embrace what those meant and what I was admitting to.

This much time later, I find myself in love with someone I look forward to having sex with… and that’s caused me some emotional distress.

I was in love once, a long time ago, with a cis hetero woman that didn’t love me back. She was the only person I’ve been able to say that I was in love with… and even now there’s a lingering ache when I think about her. After that I was jaded. I dated, and I told people I loved them, but I was never IN love with anyone.

My six year stint of single life was fine. I enjoyed it. I was happy with it. My failed attempts at finding a significant other, or a sex partner, just proved to reinforce my aromantic and asexual nature. I grew to cherish that identity. I grew to love myself and who I was, even though it was a hard thing to try and explain to anyone.

And then I met Chris.

I don’t know that WE are in love, but I am in love with him… which is admittedly terrifying and weird. I think about him all the time. I’m excited to see. I’m excited when he texts me. My heart jumps when I’m around him. I treasure every moment spent holding his hand while he gazes into my eyes. I love when we get together and do something. I love when we get together and do nothing. Whether having outrageously fun sex or watching Gravity Falls, I’m just excited to be with him. I’m intentionally overlooking things I previously said would be total deal breakers. He’s financially shot, living with his parents, has two kids, and is still married… but I’m not in it for financial stability, and I love Addison, can’t wait to meet his older daughter, and I don’t really care if he’s married, so long as they’re very separated. And that… that just proves my point.

I’m in love.

I’m not saying I want to get a house together next month and plan a marriage… cuz I don’t want that. I don’t have room in my life for that kind of thing. I love him and his daughter, but my home life isn’t ready for someone to be here all the time. I never want to get married. I want a future, but I’m not planning a future.

It’s weird to be in love. It’s foreign to me, and it scares me terribly. Still, it’s so addicting. I just want him around. I wanna plan fun days for me and his daughter to bond over and shit. It’s a weird new feeling…. b

But at the end of the day… I’m still aromantic and I’m still asexual. I’m in love with Chris and I wanna fuck Chris… but I still don’t wanna fuck anyone else and I still don’t want my life to be a Nicholas Sparks novel. This relationship doesn’t invalidate my identity. It just means right now he’s my exception. I’m on the far end of the spectrums, but it doesn’t mean I’m devoid. It just means they have to be really special.

I’m sure the day will come when this falls apart and I’ll regret all these feelings… but for now I’m just so happy. And I hope that even if this all falls apart I can always hold on to how happy I am right now.


Life & The Year Of Content

I made a hard decision, and I ghosted D2.

It’s not an easy thing to decide to cut someone out of your life, but I couldn’t deal with our one-sided friendship. Things were always about him. We were always at his house. We hung out with his friends if we did go out. We talked about HIS illness, HIS treatment, HIS problems. I guess I thought that eventually the newness of his diagnosis would wear off and we could just be people who were friends. It just never happened. His newest relapse and hospital stay proved this. He’s not where I am and he’s not going to be there any time soon. So, for my own mental health, I cut him out.

I feel like this is the part where I’m supposed to say that I miss him, or that things have been harder without him, or something… but just the opposite is true. I’ve been happier, and I’ve even been doing things with other people. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and maybe it has.

I’d mentioned learning to play D&D last entry, and I’m still working on that. It only took me a year to do it… if you ca believe I’ve been thinking of learning since last year. Cat had me, her friend Haley, and my friend Bren over to play my little game. It was only supposed to last a couple of hours, but apparently I overdid my little game, and it went on for six hours and we still aren’t done. I still don’t have all the nuances of the rules down, and I think I’m not making the characters do things exactly right, but we’re having fun. If there’s a question of if someone can do a thing, and I don’t know the technical rule, I just make them roll against me for it. I hope to get better at actual rules later… but I might switch to Pathfinder rules… D&D has really technical rules… maybe Pathfinder is a little easier? (I don’t know… tell me if you know.)

Last week D1 was in town! I saw him for an evening at Heidi’s place. It’s good to see him. He looks great. He’s happy. He’s all around doing good shit with his life and enjoying it. We heard a little more about the Rabbi, which was neat, and I really enjoyed seeing him. Also, Heidi invited me over every Thursday to watch Supernatural. So… unexpected win.

I’ve known Heidi since high school. We were never really FRIENDS, but we were never really NOT FRIENDS either. We just kind of knew each other and never hung out without other people around for social lubricant. That’s weird, because Heidi and I have always been kind of similar. We’re both introverted nerds who like people but often hole up and don’t see anyone because we’re hermity. Being invited over for the new season of Supernatural is really cool, and I like Heidi, so I’m excited to have a weekly thing. Also, it’s not on a Friday or Saturday, so that still leaves weekends open! She also lent me a book, so I gave her one back. I dunno how long this will last, but I’m excited to do a thing with someone.

I also went to my first book club meeting on Monday. My friend Evan has been badgering me to come to his book club, because he is a rather hermity, socially awkward human being, and he goes to socialize and read books he otherwise would not. I don’t really like reading books I otherwise wouldn’t, but they read a book that was already on my reading list, so I read it and showed up. I nearly had a panic attack walking in the door, but I honestly had a good time. I’m gonna read the next book and go again, I think. Would I like it more if all the books were scifi and horror? Yes, but this is a start, and maybe I can find another book club later, or even start one of my own. In general, I’m proud to have done a thing.

This weekend, I’m to hang with Bird, try to finish my costume for Halloween, and be a person. I’m feeling pretty good about myself, and I’m pretty happy. I hate to say that this is because I dropped D2, but it might be. I don’t have someone reminding me I’m crazy, that at any second I could spin out into a manic episode, or spiral into a depression. I’m just a person, living and doing stuff. It’s a nice feeling.

I turn 29 in a couple of weeks. I don’t like my birthday, but it’s how I gauge a year. Nothing happened this year. I started by having a breakdown about how at 28 I wasn’t married, had no kids, and no prospects for starting a family. I’ve done that for three years in a row. I don’t wanna do it this year. I started this year in that state of mind and everything went so horrendously anyways, between the election, and mothership getting pneumonia, and just… it was a bad year for me.

This year, I’m dubbing the YEAR OF CONTENT. It’s a term I’m blatantly stealing from one of my favorite YouTubers, Caitlyn Doughty of Ask a Mortician. She dedicated herself to a certain number of videos a week this year, and she’s kept to it. My year of content will be similar, in that I was to do at least two social things a week. It’s going to be hard… I’m not social… but I think it will be good for me, and maybe I’ll meet some people. I might join a gym. That’s a pretty easy social activity, but I hate the gym and it makes me wanna die… so maybe not. I’d like to be more healthy, but more than that I would just like to be happier. If the gym doesn’t make me happy, it probably isn’t my best choice.

Anyways… I’ll be starting that next week, although I should be able to hit my goal this week, too, since I went to book club Monday and I’m to see Heidi Thursday, and even Bird this weekend… So much social.

For accountability reasons, I’ll also be posting at least once a week to check in on if I did my two social activities… ^_^

And… yeah.

Totally Not My Business

So I’ve mentioned previously that I am friends with what I would call “An Inordinate Number of Poly People.”
Is it REALLY an inordinate number? I have no idea, but I know a lot of them.

Anyways, one of the primary couples are splitting up.

Of course, that’s none of my business, so I was excited to hear about it.

I don’t even understand how poly relationships really work, anyways, because even though I’m aromantic and asexual I am also a crazy possessive, jealous psycho. So the idea of sharing just doesn’t work with me. But, just because I don’t like relationships myself doesn’t mean I don’t like watching one deteriorate.

I never understood this couple, even if you remove the poly element. The guy is quiet, reserved, doesn’t like people to touch him, and doesn’t care for parties. He doesn’t say much in a crowd, and I have no idea how he’d manage to score multiple women, just because he’s so quiet. The girl is the opposite of that. She’s loud, outgoing, and tends to be too touchy-feely for my taste. I know that relationships aren’t for me to pick apart, but I never got this one.

A while back I was in a Facebook group for asexuality, because sometimes it’s nice to have that sense of community. I have since left, because communities are full of idiots, but before that the guy in this couple joined. He expressed surprise that I’m asexual and we chatted about it. He’s just coming around to the idea he probably is too, and he wanted to get together and talk about it sometime. I was not opposed, but we just never scheduled a time for it.

So when I saw that the girl was looking for a place to live, I had to ask why. The response was one of those big blocks of text you get when someone upset is telling you something. It breaks down to this:

  • Stuff’s been bad for a while
    • I already knew there was poly drama
  • He’s been trying to sabotage the relationship
    • Touches on that he’s autistic and depressed, but how that’s no excuse for his behavior
  • He wants to cuddle, but nothing sexual
    • She relates this to him just wanting a friend and not a relationship
  • He suggested them being “just friends” and how painful that was for her

Okay, so she’s equating love to sex. That bugs me, but I guess that’s how she sees it. Some people do. My mother doesn’t understand a romantic relationship devoid of sex, either. It’s a common kind of perspective. I can’t fault her for having a common and accepted perspective of love, even if my view differs greatly.

What I’m wondering… is whether she knows he’s venturing into identifying as asexual. I mean, that’s a weird, confusing thing for people to deal with. I just did that last year, and thank fuck I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time.

That kind of revelation… That moment when you realize that your feelings that you’ve been dealing with and suppressing aren’t necessarily strange and even if they are you’re not alone in feeling them… That’s a big fucking moment. You’re relieved, but you wonder if this is even a real thing. You like the sense of community and belonging, but wonder what this means for the future if you accept the label. You inevitably get depressed trying to think of a person you know that would be okay with a sexless relationship and coming up with NO ONE.

I don’t know what it’s like to accept that you’re homosexual or bisexual or trans. I would never try to explain that feeling and all the emotions that come with it. When you’re homosexual, though, even if everyone you personally know is some kind of terrible bigoted, hatefully religious, probably republican fear monger, we’ve reached a time in first world countries where you are aware that there’s a big, raging, beautiful LGBT community out there that will help you pick up the pieces of your shattered world and push you to just be overwhelmingly yourself. While they can’t put your life back together and they can’t fix the people in your life that might be shitheads about it, at least they are there and it’s relatively common knowledge that they are there. It doesn’t make everything better, but I would imagine it makes you feel just a little less alien during a time in your life when you think the world might end.

Being asexual is not like that at all. First, most asexuals just assume they’re probably hetero, and that sex is just over-hyped bullshit. Somewhere during puberty asexuals will feel out of place because all your friends talk about is which of the rest of your friends they wanna bump uglies with. (Puberty is revolting.) You justify it by thinking you’re a late bloomer, or maybe you sit down and seriously think if you might not be hetero and that’s why you don’t have those thoughts, or maybe you react like I did and jump on anything with a pulse because overcompensating totally works (it does not, but I thought it did). We had an LGBT Alliance at my school. All my friends from freshman year turned out to be gay (spoiler alert: not all of them are still gay… but that’s an entry for another day), so I was in that club. We talked a lot about lesbians, gay men, homophobia, hate crimes… not once did we talk about asexuality. We also didn’t cover that in health class, and I didn’t hear about the word till I was 26 and playing around on Tumblr.

Not experiencing sexual attraction just wasn’t a thing when I was growing up; so, my lack of feelings obviously indicated I was broken.

Not to go too deep into it, but high school was one big banner of me realizing I was broken in a myriad of ways. So, I just racked this up to, “more shit you need to learn to fake.” Also on that list was emotional stability, confidence, non-violent thoughts, and happiness.

This guy is older than me. So it’s been longer for him than it was for me to find out that there are other people in the world that have been faking sexuality. On top of that, he IS autistic and depressed. That wasn’t just hateful shit that comes flying out of a hurt person during a breakup, that’s actually his reality. So, while I feel for the girl, because I’m sure being broken up with hurts (I’ve never been broken up with in a really real relationship… because I’m the one that freaks out and leaves when shit gets weird), I have to look at this from all sides.

Not that it’s really any of my business.

Train Wrecks

So I’m a train wreck.

This isn’t news. You read a couple of my entries, and you know it to be true.
BUT… did you know that I also attract OTHER train wrecks?
It’s true. I’ve had a variety of them.

  • The white trash lil misogynist boy that broke up with me when I told him that at 13 years old, I was unsure if I wanted kids.
  • The suicidal one that I actually previously had thrown in a psych ward.
  • The meth addicted one that ended up homeless and arrested.
  • The severe alcoholic white trash with a caste complex, who was married.
  • The introverted gamer with no life aspirations, who resigned himself to taking care of his bipolar mother and brother.
  • The recently released from rehab stoner with no life motivation other than to get more drugs.

This mostly isn’t shit I found out LATER, either. In most of these cases I went in knowing these people were uber fucked up. I call it my “I can fix them” phase. I have since decided that I don’t care to fix anyone, even if I could do it. The train wrecks have NOT gotten that memo yet, though.

So, you may recall my entries about the guy that I literally scared the fuck out of. Well, he texted me last night while I was watching Doctor Who.

To recap:

  • I met him at a poly party, and we were the only 2 non-poly people.
  • I took him home in spite of better judgement, because he winked at me a lot… and I dig that.
  • He had a car and a job, but was living in his car.
  • After a lovely weekend, he didn’t want to pursue anything potentially romantic because I talk about killing people a lot and that creeped him out.

So I haven’t heard from him in a while, and I’m sitting at home watching Doctor Who when I get a text. I’m a polite kind of person, so I answer and inquire as to his welfare, and he tells me about how he’s doing awful… because he got a DUI and lost his job.

I’m just like… kay…

We chat a little bit, mostly about his potential jail time, and then he asks if “when [he] gets his shit together we could go to a movie or something.”

I’m not going to lie to you guys… In my head I immediately went, “I don’t need your shit, so no…” Instead I brought up the fact I creeped him out, and he said, verbatim, “My recent line of thinking is that if I get to know you better, I may not be so unnerved by some of your quirker quirks.

So you’re telling me… That you got picked up for a DUI, and while you were in the drunk tank you thought real hard about this and think that getting to know me better would make me less creepy. You did this while sleeping off your DUI…

Okay, maybe it didn’t go down exactly like that, but he was already barely skating by when I met him. Job, car, and an address are my bare minimums, and he didn’t have an address… I don’t have the time or energy to deal with an unemployed, homeless guy. Ain’t no one taking up residence in my house, and ain’t no one getting none of this without a job. My standards are admittedly low, but they’re not THAT low…

This is so predictable, though. I always attract men that totally fuck their lives over the moon, and then try to fix their lives and want to update me on it all the time. Like they’re going to woo me with how well they can piece their lives back together. I’m always just like, “Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked up in the first place, bruh.”

The meth addict, especially, used to do this. He did it for years after we broke up. Every so often, I’d get a text or a FB message about him and how he was. He updated me on jobs and relationships, everything. He was so excited to tell me when he got married and about his kids, and he wanted me to go meet them. Eventually I had to explain to him that I don’t even go out of my way to meet the kids of friends that live in my own city… I was not about to drive 45 minutes away to meet the wife and kids of an ex boyfriend… We weren’t friends. So… I blocked him on FB… Lol.

But seriously… train wrecks. They errywurr, and they attracted to me.

It’s Not You… It’s That You’re Creepy AF.

Me: “Did I do something wrong?

Him: “Honestly, some of the things you say make me really uncomfortable.”

So it turns out that I am the psychopath.

I couldn’t take it. It was bugging me that everything was going so well and then just… Radio silence. So last night, when I was packing up my kitchen to get new cabinets today, I sucked it up and texted him like a sane adult to see what I did wrong. The not knowing was eating me alive inside! Know what I did wrong? Do ya? Nothing, I was just too overwhelmingly myself, and I creeped him the fuck out.

Let me clarify. I don’t say racists things, or offensive things, or think immigrants should go back to China, or anything like that. What he is referring to is that I say weird shit, all the time, and people never really know if it’s true or not because it’s things that make you wonder.
Example: I will knife you in your sleep. I don’t want to dispose of another body; it’s so time consuming. There is absolutely no one hidden in my crawl space. I wanted to tied you up and keep you in the basement, but I didn’t plan for it.
I say a lot of weird shit. No one ever seems to know if I’m kidding. I tell them I’m kidding…. but I guess the frequency with which I say these things makes people wonder. That, or the crazy. Being Bipolar and a high functioning sociopath doesn’t really help make the crazy shit I say seem less…. serious and worrisome.

It probably also didn’t help that before he left I played him one of my favorite songs….Chloroform Girl by Polkadot Cadaver. Rated number five on the most disturbing songs list by Billboard like two years ago, it’s about keeping a girl tied up in a basement for three years. Good song. I love Todd Smith bands.

So I get it. I’m creeptacular.

I, literally, creeped the fuck out of him.
He liked me.
He wanted to fuck me.
He liked fucking me.
I creeped him out and he no longer wants to fuck me.

It’s really very relieving, though… I thought I’d done something actually wrong.
I thought he was mad. No, he’s scared. I get that. I’ve met me. I understand the hesitation.

It’s just so fucking hilarious. I was excited, then sad, then mad, then sad again, and now I’m just like… good. I’m good. I’m totally good with all of it. I can comprehend me creeping people out. I’m a creepy human being.

This should be in a god damn sitcom.

Briefly: All The Drama

It’s been a hectic time, recently.
Let’s see if I can pull some quick recaps.

Chris the Boomerang stood me up on that Friday. He said he fell asleep when I finally heard from him, but I’d been waiting for like… 2 hours… maybe a little more. I wasn’t going to wait that long, but I was excited and I loved where we were going. It’s the only time in my whole life that I’ve been stood up. It wasn’t a good feeling. I called the bestie in Cali and cried at him on the way to go meet up with my friends. He’s oddly reliable for someone that’s completely out of state and detached from the whole state. I’m very lucky to have him in my life. I didn’t tell Chris to fuck off… instead I told him that I wasn’t mad, but that if he ever stood me up again I’d find him and that it wouldn’t be pretty. He said that was a creepy thing to say. I told him I was creepy, and I haven’t heard from him, since. I like that ending, because I’d rather be crazy than hurt.

Following up on Cali Bestie, the epic guy that moved away and went to law school and was wallowing in sadness over not being able to find a job, he’s got a job! He’s still not quite happy, because he can’t move out of the house he’s in, where he has two roommates and a boyfriend… but things are looking up. I think he’ll feel better just having a job to think about. Money will come. He lives his whole life wanting to be his other best friend, and I live mine wanting to be him. We’re such a pair.

Speaking of money…
Okay, so in 2002 my grandfather died. He had a wife, and she and her kids kinda picked the carcass clean, as far as things that were his that should be given to his blood-related family. It was a big mess, and Mom stopped talking to them, and it’s been a big horrible thing as the family slowly deteriorated and fell apart like a sweater eaten by moths. But, a few month back, the wife died. I liked her well enough. She was never bad to me, or anything, so it was a little sad, but now we’re getting down to the will. My aunt’s inheritance is larger than my mother’s, which is last jab at my mom for detaching from the family when her father died, which is a low fucking blow. My aunt’s inheritance can’t be touched. When she turns 60 it’ll be paid out over the course of 10 years. So, essentially, they’re just hoping that she’ll die before gets to use it. That’s shit. My uncle’s inheritance SHOULD go to his kids, because he died a while back… but whether they will get that, we aren’t sure. My inheritance is minimal. I guess I’m getting a couple rings, which don’t really mean anything to me, since they weren’t my grandfather’s, and 1/200th of the estate. I don’t much care about the estate, or inheritance. But the whole thing with the blood relative kids of my grandfather is bullshit… and it’s been hard.

Last Friday I went to a 90% show alone. Strangely, I ran into someone I knew. I went to Girl Scouts all throughout high school with this girl. Nice girl. She was wasted. I was sad. So then I was a little wasted. She hooked up with some guy, and I dangerously drove myself home. That has to stop. We have mad crazy DUI laws here, and driving any kind of impaired can ruin your life. I gotta stop drinking my feelings when I’m out… or learn to take a cab.

And I guess that’s about it.

I’m sad today because I can’t afford to live how I want… but I’m doing ok. Working on getting out of debt and back into college. Slow-going. But that’s life.