u/Aqau_Kuria

I have known this girl ever since I started college. We were good friends, always hanging out and talking. But she always made it clear to me she was not looking for a relationship nor did she have any feelings for me.

That, for me, wasn't a problem at all. But the closer we got the more she started to touch me.

She'd make a lot of sexual comments, touch me in very inappropriate ways and would cling to me all the time. I was confused but she just told me this is normal between close friends.

I was only 19 at the time and she was 20. I was a virgin and had no idea about any of this sexual stuff. But I played along because she told me it makes her happy.

I'd never touch her back though, no matter what she did. I was uncomfortable and touching her made me feel like I was degrading her.

But she never gave up, kept pushing me. I just followed, I didn't want to lose my best friend. Made me touch her breasts, made me reach in between her legs. Well I was just happy she was happy.

And through all this she said she didn't love. After that I never laid a finger on her again. I stopped, I felt so disgusting. Like I was some dirty pervert touching people for my own greedy satisfaction.

One day while we were hanging out she shouted at me. Asked me why I didn't touch her anymore, why I didn't just have sex with her. I was scared. I told her the honest truth, I just didn't want to use you. It felt wrong, as if I only wanted her for her body. I just wanted my friend.

Then she started crying, I was confused. Did I say something wrong? I was just being honest. She told me I didn't want to do it with her because she was ugly. I was shocked, that wasn't my intention at all.

After that she stopped talking to me, and got back with her ex. I was sad to be honest, I thought we were supposed to be best friends forever. Even if things were messy.

What did I do wrong? Was I accidentally leading her on maybe? I'm sorry if I did. I just don't know what to make of this whole situation

Edit: I'm male

I'm scared of the dark.

I thought that as I grew older, the monsters lurking within it would disappear. That I would grow brave enough to laugh at them.

Instead, the monsters grew with me.

My regrets became demons. My sorrows learned my name. They wait for me every night, hiding in the corners of my room, making the darkness feel deeper than it is.

Yet I never complain.

Because if I acknowledge them, they'll know I can see them.

Midnight.

I'm still awake.

The shadows stretch too far. The walls seem too close.

Everything feels wrong.

I raise my hand in front of my face.

Nothing.

I can't see it.

Where are my hands?

My heart pounds against my ribs.

Mother, please help me.

I'm scared.

The monsters are coming.

Love is like two people blindfolded, dancing together.

At first, you might enjoy it. You enjoy the silly mistakes, learning each other’s different rhythms, and simply having a partner who makes you happy.

But the longer you dance, the more tiring it becomes. What once felt funny and harmless starts to feel irritating instead. You realize your partner’s style doesn’t match your own free, chaotic movement. Them stepping on your feet begins to annoy you more and more.

You may choose to leave, tired of it. Maybe wanting a better partner, or simply believing the two of you could never make a good duo.

Dancing blind is hard. It was never meant to be easy. Some are more experienced dancers than others; some are shy and inexperienced. Some dance just for fun, others dance searching for a lifelong partner. Sometimes, those ideals clash.

But some choose to stay. The blindness makes them put more and more trust in their partner. And maybe, their partner does the same. Together, they endure the trials, hoping to create something beautiful.

Slowly, you begin to develop your own shared rhythm. You learn each other’s patterns. What movements they enjoy, and what they struggle with.

You still stumble sometimes, but now it’s something you’ve grown used to. Instead of getting annoyed, you help each other improve.

The perfect dance. A long, difficult dance, but a beautiful one.

Love is like two people blindfolded, dancing together.

At first, you might enjoy it. You enjoy the silly mistakes, learning each other’s different rhythms, and simply having a partner who makes you happy.

But the longer you dance, the more tiring it becomes. What once felt funny and harmless starts to feel irritating instead. You realize your partner’s style doesn’t match your own free, chaotic movement. Them stepping on your feet begins to annoy you more and more.

You may choose to leave, tired of it. Maybe wanting a better partner, or simply believing the two of you could never make a good duo.

Dancing blind is hard. It was never meant to be easy. Some are more experienced dancers than others; some are shy and inexperienced. Some dance just for fun, others dance searching for a lifelong partner. Sometimes, those ideals clash.

But some choose to stay. The blindness makes them put more and more trust in their partner. And maybe, their partner does the same. Together, they endure the trials, hoping to create something beautiful.

Slowly, you begin to develop your own shared rhythm. You learn each other’s patterns. What movements they enjoy, and what they struggle with.

You still stumble sometimes, but now it’s something you’ve grown used to. Instead of getting annoyed, you help each other improve.

The perfect dance. A long, difficult dance, but a beautiful one.

How do you dance? Are you in a dance with someone right now? If so, how's it going? What do you hope to find in your dance better, or do you not want one?

This has always been my view of love. But my own dance is a little bit more twisted sadly

I personally have NEVER seen a guy who self harms, much less on they're thighs.

I'm not saying that boys don't self harm, I'm a man and I cut my wrists. Yeah I'm considering cutting my thighs but I've associated cutting thighs with something girls do so now I unconsciously feel that doing that is gay.

I mean no offence to anyone who is LGBTQ+ or any male that self harms. Just a thought that popped into my head. To any males who are reading this where do you cut?

This all happened when I was 16 years old. I had just gotten my first ever girlfriend! I was happy to finally have one (because any teenager going through puberty would love a girlfriend)

But two months down the line I started to see a ghost in my room. You see I suffer from psychosis so seeing things that don't actually exist is normal for me. Instead of being scared and freaking out like my usual reaction to this stuff, I fell in love with the ghost. Yes you heard me right, I fell in love with a ghost I made up in my head.

I loved her religiously and even the thought of her made my teenage heart race. Her name was Mary (well she never actually told me but that's the name I thought a beautiful ghost like her would have).

She'd tell me to do all kinds of weird and dark things. This is all happening while I'm in a relationship with my girlfriend by the way.

A month later, Mary told me to break up with my girlfriend because me being in a relationship with her broke Mary's heart. So of course I did! I told my girlfriend that "You deserve better" and broke up and blocked her out of the blue.

Eventually the ghost stopped appearing in my head once I started taking medication. Now I realize how stupid this all was. To be honest I do miss Mary, even though she caused me to do a lot of things such as self harm and almost killing my mother.

Probably will delete this because I'm embarrassed to tell this story🥀