I love him, I love him not

I’m sure that I am not an easy one to live with. I’ve been told. My mom was eager to get me out, even before I was 18. I graduated High School at 18, with an apartment.

Since then I’ve been independant. My whole like I had people making choices for me and now I could do it for myself. I didn’t like the change at first. I missed sleeping with my mom. I missed the smell of her house. I missed my mommy. But once I got settled, I got set in my ways. Hey if I want the table here. Here is were it will go. If I need the couch and chair to line up – fine – Its mine!

But then I met him… he lived with him mom and pops, never had what I had. He was childish, outgoing, and fun. Something I desired. Something I was not but not by choice. Remember I never knew why I was the way I was. Always happy with myself I saw I was different and I saw that I was the same. Nobody could ever see that. Nobody could see this side of me because it hid inside and masked itself in a quirky artistic way. So I hung out with you and we had a really great time. You were my best friend. What you don’t know my name? You asked me hey aren’t you that girl at my school. So maybe it was just me having a good time watching you have a good time. I was posted on the wall like the fly. It was the best time of my life.

Well when I met him , he made me feel like that but he remembered my name. I may have been a fly on the wall but he noticed me and played with me. He kept the conversation going. When he was loud it was goofy stuff and it made me laugh. I never laughed before unless it was me being the “funny” one with my bbf (my true friend that saw past the shell) or my bub that was stranger than I. He could be somewhat obnoxious and it was awesome to have that taken from me and be able to find humor in it.

But then somewhere things changed. Me saying shit thats down right mean because I thought thats they way to but the way I felt into human words. And the lack of shutdown time. I needed recharged and I didn’t and still do not know how to get this out (well I think I do but nobody listens- so I guess its not quite right) .

I want a family. I have a family. But I feel like I’m doing in alone with him watching. I’m the watcher and if I’m not watching get your ass up here with me. I’m tired of not being heard. Hes tired of me not talkin or “bitching.” I see it as I’m right and honestly I’m not willing to change much. I’m me. I’m who I have always been. He is the one that changed. The only change is he has not grown up any. Except hes mean now and it rare that hes funny. Its not cute being a kid when you have kids.

gwigfwgf gfuegfi nothing got out. Not only can I not talk but I can’t seem to get it out anywhere other than my head -Which BTW fully understands. Since he has came back – I’m not so happy. He yells a lot. He scares me – no startles me. He touches me. He asked me what I’m doing and makes me want to stop doing anything. (I don’t know why) He makes me feel down. I’m not a down person although I appear to others as a sad depressed person. (But I am not!) He says stuff he don’t mean and then he don’t follow through. If you say you want to leave and move out this weekend – of course come Monday I wonder WTF you are doing here. Wait what monday? Fuck. This shit confuses me. We certainly did not make up. I went to sleep I woke up. Nothing changed. I don’t understand this crap. He says to tell him when I need help. I was raised that a “real” man would do it when he was it was needed. But I compromised and started asking him. He ignores me or complains or acts like a hooker that would only do whatever if I gave him something. Huh. Now we have two problems you were a lazy fucking loser who was not man enough to do the “dirty” work and you ignored me. Then you are made when I do it myself and other guys asked what the fuck is wrong with my so called man. Then you get mad when they help me do what you should have done. And he call him my boyfriend or start stuff with them. Or wait you didn’t want it done at all. I’m confused. Man up or get over it.

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Adult: Sexual or nonsexual

“Sex is beautiful and natural and everyone wants to have sex so it’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

And I agree, sex is nothing to be ashamed of. But there’s one little detail there: not everyone wants sex or gets pleasure from it. They’re roughly 1% of the population. And with 7 billion people on the planet, 1% equals 70,000,000. Seventy million people is a lot of experiences to erase.

So, roughly 70,000,000 people on this planet don’t want sex. Or they want sex in certain contexts. Or they kind of sometimes want sex but not often. Or they have sex to satisfy a partner, but don’t get much out of it for themselves. Or they have a sex drive, just… not towards other people. Or they can’t stand the thought of sex.

And that’s okay too.

Sex positivity for me is accepting that whether you have sex a lot, or you never have sex, whether you have a million kinks or you can’t stand sex outside the missionary position, whether you are gay, straight, bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, sapiosexual, autosexual, objectumsexual, or asexual, the way you look at sex and attraction is valid and normal, as long as it’s not hurting anyone.

via I am. I am. I am.

People = Unhappy Drama (why I say no thanks)

It just seems as nobody can keep me happy with them. I attract assholes and rejects. I’m surrounded by them. Not a soul around me understands me. All of them seem like they are around me for their own selfish reasons. They all seem to be a bunch of button mashers and I’m tired of having my triggers going off because others want to place their own unhappiness on me. I don’t make you unhappy. You make you unhappy. If I make you so damn unhappy…. walk away. Remember I’m fine alone. I like it like that. I rarely piss myself off but others are a different story…

I do not feel good and I’m not in the mood to play a game of charades with you. And yelling at me or talking too loud,aggressively, toward me – is a sure one way ride…. right out the front door.

Most people irritate me and I like to spend most of my time alone because of it.

An Older Aspie Mum

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Tania A. Marshall, M.Sc.

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