u/Dapper-Hippo-5436

Okay, this is probably going to be long, so grab some popcorn because I apparently cannot tell a story without writing an entire academic paper first.

I've had a crush on this guy for about two years.

When I transferred to my school, I enrolled pretty late, so I was basically the new person while everyone else already knew each other. I'm pretty much an ambivert, so I went around introducing myself and trying to make friends.

Then I met him.

I'm VERY into smart/nerdy people. Like, stereotypical nerds, techy people, people who can talk about random things for hours. He seemed like that type, so I approached him and started asking him things like his hobbies, whether he played games, watched anime, etc.

And we clicked. Like, REALLY clicked.

At first, I didn't actually have a crush on him. I just really liked his personality.

Eventually, we both became the "smart people" that classmates went to for different things. He's really good academically, while I'm pretty decent at math, public speaking, philosophy, etc. So we'd help each other with schoolwork.

Except our conversations somehow always turned into debates.

Not actual arguments. More like:

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, but logically..."

"No, because—"

"Okay, but consider this..."

And then we'd both start laughing.

Our classmates noticed and started teasing us whenever we debated.

"Are you guys arguing again?"

"Why do you sound like a married couple?"

And that's basically where I started developing feelings.

He's responsible, intelligent, funny, and honestly just my type.

There were also two girls who had been close friends with him for years, so my friends told me to figure out whether there was something going on between them before I did anything.

Person A didn't seem interested in guys, and Person B already had a boyfriend, so I eventually stopped worrying about that.

Then one day he invited me to a movie with some friends because we both wanted to see the same movie. I invited one of my friends because I was nervous, and he brought some of his friends too.

After the movie, my friend had to leave, so I ended up hanging around with him and his friends. We explored the mall, looked at figurines, talked about random stuff, and honestly had a really fun time.

We got closer after that.

Then came the competitions and stuff.

One of my popular friends started liking him too.

Girl code kicked in, so I backed away.

I told myself I didn't like him that much anyway. I convinced myself that I only admired him because he was smart.

I also had another guy I was close to, so let's call him Penguin.

Penguin and my crush actually had similar vibes. Both nerdy, into anime, etc. Penguin was also into Korean stuff, which I liked, and we were on the debate team together, so we spent a lot of time around each other.

Eventually, everyone started shipping me and Penguin so hard that I felt pressured to do something.

So during Christmas break, I confessed to Penguin.

I gave him a letter and some chocolates. Basically, I told him that I really admired him, liked his personality, and hoped we'd stay friends regardless of what happened.

He accepted it, and nothing really changed between us.

But here's where things get interesting.

Before I confessed to Penguin, I actually asked my original crush for advice.

I told him I wanted to confess to someone and asked what I should do.

And he started questioning me.

"Are you sure you're not suppressing your feelings?"

"Are you sure you actually like this person?"

"You've never confessed to the other person, so how do you know what you would've felt?"

I kept insisting that my original crush would reject me anyway.

I literally said something along the lines of:

"No. He wouldn't like me. He rejected that other girl, so there's no way."

And my crush was like:

"Are you sure? You never asked him."

Then, when I was talking about this mysterious person I liked, he jokingly asked:

"Are you sure it's not me?"

And I PANICKED.

I immediately said no and promised it wasn't him.

Except... it kind of was.

After that, we kept getting closer anyway.

We worked on a musical theater project together. We went to academic competitions together. We talked a lot. We debated constantly.

At one point, we were talking about relationships, and he said something like he wasn't interested in dating unless it was something serious, basically "I'm not dating just to date. If I'm with someone, I want it to actually go somewhere."

I agreed because honestly, same.

We also talked about our futures because we're both interested in medical-related careers.

Then we had to choose our specialization for the next school year.

I was considering Pharmacy, Caregiving, and MedTech. He was considering the same general options.

I didn't want to choose something just because my friends were choosing it, because this specialization would affect what I wanted to do later.

Eventually, I chose Pharmacy.

He initially chose Caregiving because most of our classmates were pressuring him to choose it. But apparently he wasn't actually sure about it.

He ended up asking the teachers if he could switch to Pharmacy.

And guess who was already in the Pharmacy section?

Me.

Our Pharmacy/Dentistry section was tiny, so it had to be combined. There were only a few people he already knew, including me and some of our friends.

When he found out he'd be in the same section as me, he seemed pretty happy about it.

And now we're here.

We're in the same section again.

We're still close.

We still debate about absolutely everything.

We still make each other laugh.

And unfortunately, I think I still like him.

The problem is that we're graduating soon.

I'm planning to study abroad afterward, so realistically, if I confess and he actually likes me back, we'd probably have to deal with long-distance eventually.

And if he doesn't like me back, I'd obviously have to deal with the awkwardness until graduation.

Part of me thinks:

"Just confess. You'll regret it if you never know."

But another part of me thinks:

"Why potentially complicate a friendship that already means a lot to you?"

Especially because he's already rejected someone before because he wanted to focus on his studies, and I don't want to put him in an uncomfortable position.

So, Reddit, what do you think?

Should I finally tell him after TWO YEARS, knowing that we're probably going separate ways after graduation?

Or should I just keep this as one of those feelings I never act on?

I genuinely can't tell anymore. Genuinely help me guys please lmao cause were almost graduating 😭😭😭✌️

Before I begin, I would like to clarify that I am now in a safe environment and have completely distanced myself from that person.

I already knew that my parents didn't get along long before I was born. My mother became pregnant at a very young age, and after having me, she left me at my grandparents' house when I was only three days old. My father was also a teenager at the time. He eventually became an alcoholic and a workaholic. At first, he would come home drunk, but later he stopped coming home altogether. He found another girlfriend, though it was obvious she was only interested in his money.

My father hated my mother so much that whenever she came to visit or tried to take me, he would make me repeat inappropriate names to call her. She would get angry and argue back, and I ended up becoming the messenger between two people who deeply hated each other.

I was raised by my grandparents from infancy until I was around seven years old. We later had to move to the province for work and safety reasons, but after about a year, my mother demanded that I be returned to her or she would file a lawsuit against my grandparents. Eventually, they gave me back to my mother.

I was around three years old when I found out I had a younger sister. I had already met my stepfather, and he seemed kind. When I moved in with my mother, I discovered that we lived in my stepfather's childhood home. I was quiet and scared because I didn't know anyone there except my mother.

The house had three, later four, floors. My stepfather's grandmother lived on the first floor, his siblings occupied the second, and my family stayed on the third and fourth floors. It was difficult fitting in, especially because all the neighbours knew the family and were surprised that a new child had suddenly joined them, one who wasn't even blood-related.

Having a sister was fun, but things slowly changed. The rules in that house were completely different from what I was used to. At my grandparents' house, I could play outside until around 3:00 PM, nap around 4:00 or 5:00 PM, then eat dinner around 6:00 PM. At my mother's house, I was forced to sleep between 1:00 and 3:00 PM and wasn't allowed to play outside at all.

One afternoon, I couldn't fall asleep. My mother and stepfather left the house for about one or two hours, and only after they left did I finally fall asleep. I woke up startled when they returned.

They gave my sister snacks and candy but gave me nothing.

When I asked why, my mother said it was because I hadn't slept.

I told her that I actually had, but she called me a liar and said I was acting just like my father. That was the beginning of being constantly compared to him. From then on, whenever she remembered something my father had done, she would take her anger out on me.

Another incident happened when my cousin's computer was damaged after it got wet. Everyone blamed me because they said I had been the last person near it. The television was beside the computer, and I had simply been watching cartoons. My older female cousin claimed she saw me placing the cup back beside the computer.

My parents were furious. They had to compensate my aunt because her work was affected and pay for the repairs. I kept insisting that I hadn't done it. I told them I had only found the cup already fallen over and empty, and that I simply stood it back up.

They refused to let me attend school for an entire week. Every night they beat me until I couldn't sit properly, and my stomach became covered in bruises.

My mother hated both me and my father's side of the family so much that she blamed them for "turning me into this."

Sometimes she became angry simply from looking at me. She would pull my hair, tear my clothes, punch me, or slam me against the wall. Whenever someone asked about my injuries, I was too frightened to tell the truth, so I made up excuses.

She even told me she wished my older male cousin had been her child instead of me.

I couldn't ask anyone for help because I didn't know anyone there. She made me help raise my younger step-siblings, and although I love them and don't blame them, it hurt that they were often spared from being scolded because their grandparents lived downstairs.

While attending school, I was expected to care for three young children, do the grocery shopping, and help take care of three large dogs and two small dogs. If I made even a small mistake, she would grab my shirt and beat me. Eventually, I stopped defending myself because I realised there was no point.

The one question I always wanted answered was why she hated my father's family so much, especially my grandparents, because she constantly spoke badly about them.

I'll admit that I wasn't always innocent. Sometimes, after being beaten or scolded, I would steal a few pesos from her or someone else and buy myself candy. Most of the time, however, my conscience couldn't handle it. I would hide the money somewhere obvious so it could be found again or give it to someone else.

When she eventually caught me, she said she had had enough and sent me to live with her own mother.

Then something happened that shocked me.

My older female cousin, the same one who had accused me of breaking the computer, laughed and admitted that she had later realised she was actually the one who had damaged it. My mother heard her... and simply laughed too.

When I eventually returned to live with my mother again, she was still the same, though the abuse happened less often.

She had also started attending church.

I have nothing against religion, but what she testified about and taught others was completely different from how she treated me at home.

I finally reached my limit when she tore my school uniform and forced me to miss an entire school quarter. She claimed I needed to "reflect on my actions," but it was really because she wanted me to stay home and take care of her youngest child.

Eventually, I told my father that my mother wasn't allowing me to continue high school anymore. My father's current family didn't know much about me, so he suggested that I live with my aunt instead.

Before I left, my mother finally explained why she hated my father's family.

She claimed that she met my father in a smoking area, that he courted her, they slept together, and I was conceived. She admitted that my father was a narcissist, and I believe that part is true. She said he was selfish and didn't care for her during her pregnancy.

She also claimed that when she told my grandparents she was in labour, they didn't believe her, and that if it hadn't been for her own mother, both of us would have died.

However, that story changed when I asked my aunt about it.

She said,

"We actually took good care of her. Mama even cooked all of her pregnancy cravings. Your father really was an asshole, but he showed he cared in his own way. He would comb her hair, help with things she needed during pregnancy, and he was even late to your birth because he was working as a call boy so he could earn money for your diapers."

When I told my aunt that my mother blamed my grandmother, she became angry.

"That's a lie. I was there when Papa carried her to the hospital. If it weren't for Mama noticing that her water had already broken, you would have died. We checked on her every day, but she kept insisting she wasn't in labour and kept trying to hide her pregnancy."

Then my uncle, my father's brother, added,

"Yeah. She had been crying in pain for months. We kept asking if she needed help, but she refused. Mama was worried because she kept asking for strange medicines, and she refused to give birth in the labour room. That's why you were born green and with sepsis. She kept trying to hold you in."

Hearing that broke me.

I still don't know which version of the story is completely true. I wasn't there, and everyone remembers painful events differently.

But a part of me wonders if that explains why my mother always seemed to hate and resent me from the very beginning.

I genuinely need to rant because I feel like I’m going insane.

For context, I live with my aunt, and she has a VERY meticulous way of doing things. If she smells something she hates, she will nag about it repeatedly and sometimes turn the entire house upside down looking for the source. If something is dirty, she’ll complain about it. I understand wanting a clean house, but it feels like I can never do anything right.

On Sunday, she scolded me because there was “too much hair” in the bathroom. She immediately said it was mine because my hair is thicker and black, while hers is supposedly dark brown.

Except... her hair IS brown. You can literally put it under light and see that. 😭

Then we ordered McDonald’s. I ordered an à la carte meal with double rice because I actually prefer eating rice and gravy by itself with the chicken separate. She offered me her chicken and I politely said I didn’t want it.

She literally dumped the chicken onto my plate anyway.

Then she told me I was “making myself look pitiful” and that I was being disrespectful.

I genuinely don't understand how politely saying “no thank you, I don't want it” became disrespectful.

Later, it was raining while we were carrying groceries. She kept telling me to hold the umbrella properly. I was genuinely trying, but she was walking quickly, so I had to keep catching up while carrying groceries. When we got home, she started yelling at me again about how I “don't even help her” with things.

Then today, I tried to actually help.

I asked her what she wanted for breakfast, and she said she liked eggs with bell pepper, so I made that. I only cooked one egg because that's what I understood she wanted. She got angry because apparently she wanted more.

So I said, “Okay, I can make you another one.”

She said, “Forget it.”

Fine.

Later, I cleaned the kitchen. While I was in the middle of an online class, she asked me to get her a croissant and heat some water.

I still did it.

And when I brought it to her, she complained that I hadn't opened the milk properly.

Then she complained about the broom being in the wrong place.

I explained that I hadn't finished cleaning the kitchen yet and that I was going to put it away after she finished making her coffee.

That somehow turned into her screaming at me about how I stress her out and how I don't consider her.

Then she took my phone.

And deleted YEARS worth of progress from games I had spent so much time grinding. i barely even play honestly cause i dont have free time these days

That part honestly hurt more than I expected.

She also blamed me for her not being able to review properly because even though I go into the kitchen to study, I disturb he

But here's what I don't understand.

She has free time at night too. She watches vlogs and AI stories and does her own stuff. But somehow my existence in the house is what apparently prevents her from studying.

And I'm so tired of being held responsible for everything.

I clean, but then she'll leave her clothes wherever instead of putting them back properly.

I help her when she asks.

I try to make food for her.

I try to clean.

I try to follow the way she wants things done.

And somehow every single situation becomes evidence that I'm disrespectful, inconsiderate, lazy, or difficult.

She even told me that I should go to an asylum because of my behavior. saying i have split personality what so ever

And then she asks why I'm not close to her like I am with my other aunt.

How am I supposed to be close to someone when whenever I try to tell her something, I either get dismissed or receive a giant lecture?

Even the way I dress and the things I like get criticized.

I'm just exhausted.

I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm sure there are things I do wrong. I can admit that.

But I don't think I should have to constantly feel like I'm walking on eggshells because literally anything can become another reason I'm being yelled at.

At this point I don't even know what she wants from me.

I just want to exist in the house without feeling like every little thing I do is going to become the next problem.

I'm so tired of taking the blame for everything.