THE LAST TIME I UPDATED THIS BLOG WAS IN 2015. GOD DAMN.
I AM SO DIFFERENT NOW HOLY FUDGE.
Whooooooooooo where do I even start. Man. Yikes. Been a minute.
Let's see. I've lost a few pounds. I have pectoral muscles and biceps worth a damn and getting better by the day. I have an actual haircut now that I go to a barber and I wear cologne.
I'm still kind of a virgin but that ends tomorrow. Yes! I'm getting laid on Valentine's Day. Pretty exciting, not gonna lie. And in fact, the lucky lady is the subject of a LOT of the changes in my life.
So, where we last left off, I was a very, VERY lonely atheist, stuck at a Christian college with basically no friends except a very accommodating roommate who didn't know I was an atheist at the time.
Since then, I've gotten in with and fallen out of a group of atheists at the Christian college I was attending which then led me to quit said college. I'm sitting at like three hours short of an associate's degree. Let's try to avoid talking about school it's kind of a self-conscious thing. I'll explain why I'm struggling with that later.
BUT I met these atheists on Yik Yak. And that's also where I met the most amazing person ever, even if she was a goddamn wreck when I met her. God. Here's a fun love story for you.
I met this girl on Yik Yak. She was trolling for validation, basically. Convinced she was a lesbian and a Christian and wanted to kill herself out of sheer self-hatred.
I'm bisexual, ok? I've been in a Christian environment. I realize looking back there were TONS of signs that I was bi dating back to my earliest experiences with sexual feelings. I know what it's like to be “an other” among Christians. My heart was broken. I couldn't stand to see someone so abused by a religion.
So I left some message details. She messaged me. We talked a bit. I met her in the student center once when one of the other atheists on campus (a black pansexual libertarian who was in ROTC—he's a character unto himself) hugged her for a bit.
She told me later that his decision to hug her is why she ended up not attempting suicide that night.
But there were more attempts. Lots and lots of failed suicide attempts. The last attempt was attempted suicide by cop. She had tried to find rope to hang herself and didn't know where to look for it. I did a highly illegal thing which I will not specify that day. It was supposed to make her suicide easier.
She told me later that my decision to just be present and do what I did is the real reason she didn't look for rope. Her suicide by cop attempt failed on purpose. She didn't know how else to get help.
I don't know the names of the Greenville County Sheriff's deputies who found her that night. All I know about them, from what she told me, is that they had taken optional courses on dealing with mentally ill and suicidal subjects and were trained on how to coax them down. I don't know their names. But if I find out, when I'm crazy rich, I swear to god I will pay for their kids to go to college. They deserve it. Bless them.
I thought she had killed herself, though. She went dark on social media and messaging apps for nine agonizing days. I cried more than once. I didn't know how to cope.
Then, just as quickly as she vanished, she reappeared and told me what happened. She was admitted to the psych ward against her parents' demands. Thank god South Carolina has laws allowing police to do that. Thank god she was already over 18.
The doctors prescribed her Prozac and she was officially diagnosed with depression. Like, wow, what a shock, mirite? A suicidal person happens to be depressed.
But man, she was totally different. There were still bad days. But they became fewer and fewer. She met a guy, thought she might marry him, but they abruptly broke up. She tried to get with a guy who was a fervent Christian while her Christianity by this point was very much wavering. I recognized the signs of a domestic abuser and warned her away from him. She took my advice.
So, at this point, we're getting into November of 2016. This is when things get REALLY interesting.
Back in June I had decided to go on a trip with my sister to Indonesia where my parents still live and do whatever the hell it is they're doing anymore. We were going in December for the hols. I'd been hyping it up to, fudge it, we'll call her by her name, Audrey, for months. Her parents lived in Puerto Rico for years as did she (her mom is apparently part of some big gospel singing family in PR, or something. So yeah, my first time will be with a girl who's half-Latina, who decided to make all my dreams come true?) so of course she was jealous as hell. We hung out a couple more times, we're both a bit awkward in person though. For now, at least.
I went on the trip. She was still struggling for closure with her ex and I just stayed there supporting her and telling her she's fine, she's a good person, you know. Being a friend. But by the end of the trip, the tenor changed.
I sent her an Instagram post. It was innocuous. Just some picture with text with something about how you're going to make a great mom or whatever. It was cute and I thought it totally applied to her so I sent it and said I'm jealous of whoever you end up marrying because he's lucky as hell.
Now, I should insert at this point that a) it's 4:30 so I might be a bit incoherent, and b) I've now read Models and I swear by Mark Manson's philosophy of honesty in relationships. None of the shizzle I've said up to this point to her was in any way manipulative. I've just flown by the seat of my pants and said whatever was on my mind. Up to this point, I never, I swear to god NEVER had any intention of sleeping with her or even kissing her. In fact, I was kind of relishing the fact that I had this friend who I could talk about sexual stuff with who was hot and that we wouldn't get more entangled than that.
Well, if you couldn't already tell from how this was all prefaced, THAT CHANGED.
Her response was chock full of crying emojis and basically she said that she was almost in love with me and that I was the best thing that had ever happened in her life (which I can totally believe not that it says much about me unfortunately). We agreed that we were going to eventually sleep together but she said she wanted to be able to be more emotionally detached from sex. Like not feel like she needed to marry every guy she ever touched. I agreed, because I recognized long before this point that neither of us is really cut out for full-blown monogamy. We'll have our favorites in the long term, but there will always be little side flings no matter who we stay with as the person you'd introduce as your “significant other.” We're too sexual for anything more constrained than that.
But basically, at this point, I knew the clock was ticking. We were going to have sex. It was a matter of when and where and under what circumstances. So, being me, I just accepted it. After all, at this point, the only roadblock was all in my head. And it would, as it turned out, melt away pretty quickly.
All this was happening literally as I was on the way to the airport to fly out of Indonesia. So it was pretty crazy. But my life is pretty crazy, like damn bro I'm used to this.
So after I got back we hung out again. Audrey was scared that her parents might kick her out and she needed help learning how to live on her own. So we sat down over some NOO YAHK pizza and I taught her some basics. How to pay bills. How to take care of her car. You know, basic adult shizzle her parents weren't going to teach because as an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist, she was expected to remain dependent on her parents until she got married and then she would be dependent on her husband. Fudge logic.
All the while, her mental state was improving. After some early forgetfulness I got her into the habit of taking her Prozac and her contraception on time based on the prescriptions. And finally, about five days ago, we got into a conversation.
It started when I was complaining about being a virgin. It was kinda selfish, I guess. She was offering ideas but in fairness none were really workable. And then she said something I didn't expect.
“Well, why not me?”
It was like
Yup, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.
I knew of only one way to respond.
I was all in.
We set it up for a day off we had in common. That day happened to be Valentine's Day. We didn't even realize it until Saturday.
We've been constantly sending each other sexy texts and getting each other revved up for this. We've also had very mature, adult conversations about what's ok and what's not and what we're going to do and how we're going to do it. And yes, I bought condoms. No, I'm not going to double wrap. I'm a virgin, not a moron.
She was telling me the other night about how she feels like a [insert word meaning “woman of loose morals” here] but that she has needs. I understand. I know. I know because I've been here this entire time, watching her struggle to find guys who can satisfy her or guys who don't treat her like crap. She's not very good at picking them out yet. But I'm helping her learn.
But over the course of our conversations the last couple of days, I'm starting to wonder if I've really been the one steering us in this direction. It was a lot of shizzle testing and other silliness, but suffice it to say I now have pretty solid evidence to suggest that in spite of the fact that she's screwing around with a lot of other guys, she's had her eye on me as her bae for a long time. And now she just wants to take that first step toward making it official.
Here is my problem. My mom is a social media FBI surveillance van. And Audrey has put her religion down as Satanist on her profile. So being open about any relationship (which I know at this point, will be inevitable) is going to invite a lot of unwanted questions. Bear in mind, two and a half years later, I'm STILL in the closet with my parents.
The only reason we're not basically planning to change our relationship status the day after is really just practicality. She needs a place to live and I can't fully provide that right now. She's going to move in with this guy. She's trying to use her relationship (such as it is) with him to test me and see if I'll be a piece of shizzle or not. But I already know I'll pass, because I'm not like her exes. I'm different. But she has to find that out first.
I strongly hinted at the outcome. I've had a knack for calling things in advance. I think it's just because she's a bit predictable and I have the experience which I've gained through observing others in so many similar situations.
I know where this road takes us. We're going to be way more than fudgebuddies in a pretty short span. Today, she says she doesn't like labels. But that's going to change.
The guy she's basically using to test me, she mentions me to him. But where she tells me he has creepy desires and tells me other embarrassing things about him, she says of me that she “doesn't talk about anything embarrassing. Just that you need some help with picking up chicks.”
Which…she's not wrong. Haha. But in the context of why she said that, it answered the real question I was subcommunicating. I was asking if I was more important to her or if he was.
I got my answer. She gave it to me loud and clear over the next fifteen minutes.
I'm more important.
Man, relationships are weird.