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Every time my boyfriend's little sister is hanging around I feel my juices flow and I get tingles. She is the total package. The way she moves, talks, gestures, and dresses or shows that hottest bod. Such a sweet and pretty face, hair, eyes. I just want to eat her pussy and I have never ever even thought about another girl. Why her and why now? I cannot tell anyone. Everyday I masturbate thinking about having sex with her. I don't even think of my bf that way. HELP!
I often steal or sneak a peek on my lover’s phone when he’s in the shower. I do this all the time now. Before it locks, I am there. One day I found some emails in his archives. It involved a female friend of his that secretly had an abortion with her lover of many years.
I believe that child was his but only know when manic they both often had sex together when he visited her. He says he can’t have kids but I wonder. Am I jealous or just curious as most of us are? I wonder. Turns me on of all the second secrecy but I feel for him as he likely wouldn’t know much as he’s mainly a great friend and lover.
I recently sent an anonymous email to the guy she said knocked her upgrade ago. Maybe this will bring the truth out. She lies about so much as he’s good me anyways that I thought it anonymously pry my way in here on this ancient issue.
I guess I like to start trouble as my lover has no idea I use his phone to do this. If it were to somehow come back to him, he would be baffled and I would lose the best sex I’ve ever had. However, I find this exciting like when I cheat on my husband with him. Maybe we’re all bad but I know I’m as horrible as his female friend was years ago.
#diabolical #spying #sex #trouble #friend #lover #secrets #abortion
I was caught by the police while I was dancing around a bonfire naked at night in the woods.
According to the protocol I asked them to dance with me because I would take the queen's child the next day.
After that I changed my antidepressants. Thank god the police gave me back all of the photos they took and I now live in another city.
You can trust me: Don't mix meds with alcohol!
#rumpelstilzchen #police #bonfire #dancing #naked #antidepressants #meds #alcohol
I don't like the way my wifes talks to me. She treats me like I don't know anything and like I couldn't do anything without her telling me. I now started to give her sweets everytime she talkes nicely and politely with me and it's starting to work. She is re-thinking her behaviour and even corrects herself if she said something harsh.
This method is called "classical conditioning" by Pavlov. He invented this, using his dog.
#dog #pavlov #wife #sweets #conditioning #classical #confession
I sleep with 3 of my cousins but they don't know about each other. Should I tell them that i sleep with the three of them before it's to late or just keep my mouth shut.
I get turned on by golden showers and over stimulation a lot. At first, I thought that it was not normal. But as time passed, I embraced it. I am a 16 year old female. Now when I masturbate (which I do a lot), I wear panties of thin material and stand straight with my legs wide or I sit on the toilet. I then use my fingers or a pencil to rotate about my clitoris. Believe me, its amazing. I then cum in the panties and then pee while wearing them. I pull them tight so the pee falls in the toilet. While peeing, I play around with my nipples and finger myself.
I have some really demanding parents. They want everything to be perfect. I understand that, they want the best for me. But the thing that they are never satisfied. Never... They just want me to do their requests. I obey and respect them. But recently they have been shouting me for no reason and they have disrespected me a lot. I want to have peace with them, but it simply cannot be done. I wanted to release my anger, but I have never reached that boundary. I just want to have peace. I'm only 16 goddammit. God help me please.
So this confession isn't exactly a confession. But I want to write anonymously about how I've been hurt and how I've had nightmares over this for almost 7 years. And the minor PTSD I have learned to live with. Some may relate or you might think this isn't so bad and some have had it worst. But here it goes. I was 15 years old. I was still just a girl and at JHS where there was this boy who had just become a man. Someone who had changed my entire aspect of life and I wouldn't even realize it yet. This guy, we will call him Mason, was the first guy I tried to be serious with. Now at 15, and as a girl, you think that relationships are supposed to be like fairy tales and rainbows, but this was far from it. The beginning was magical. I was only allowed to go outside my house once a month, because my parents said that is only how many times girls should be allowed out. With Mason, I decided to sneak out and go out more than once a month. I sneaked out quite often at the time, actually. When I thought everything was going great, Mason gave me a cool looking ring. This Gothic-rustic looking ring that he told me his great-great grandmother once worn and it was sweet. And I wore it, of course. It wasn't till a month after sweet-nothings, late road trips around the town, and holding hand-in-hand together that something was the worst thing. He cheated on me with my best friend.
Now I say this was the worst thing, but being 15 and having nothing harm you or hurt you, being completely over protected from the world, this did seem like the worst thing. But what you are about to read isn't something I recommend for you to read. If you want to stay cheery and read all of the funny confessions, then just scroll on. Just don't read the rest. It's okay to not read on. After all, no one cared to hear me out for 7 years.
I screamed at him. I was furious. I had never felt such a feeling before. I was angry, I wanted to strangle him, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to run. I even yelled at her, my own friend. How could someone betray someone so terribly? But later on I found out that this had been going on for a few weeks and it wasn't just her; there were 4 other girls at this high school he had been cheating on and I wasn't even the original girlfriend.
He said that if I had sex with him, he would break it off with her and all of his other girlfriends. I was a virgin, I was emotional, I thought "If this will make the pain away, then sure." And so I agreed. In the backyard of my parent's house while my family was gone. It was painful and raw. It burned from the friction and there was no enjoyment out of it. I hated myself in the middle of this and I hated myself for too long after this.
Out of no where, I heard my mom's car pull into the drive way. I freaked out and told Mason that he has to leave. But with the garage right next to the exit of the back yard, there was no way to make a quiet escape. So we tried to stay quiet and hide against the wall, but then my mother caught us red handed. She wasn't yelling, though, she was surprisingly calm about it and seemed to not really care. But she said she was going to call my father, and that was probably why. She told Mason to get out asap and so he did.
It wasn't till I saw my father that I knew what true fear could be.
Let me stop for a second. This might have seem like a story where the boyfriend cheating on me would have also been the guy who physically or mentally abused me. But Mason looks like a super hero for what happened later was much more terrifying.
He was in the dark. Just standing there silent with his chest puffed like he was ready to strangle someone. He asked what had happened in such a dark voice that the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood. I explained that I had sex with Mason. And I don't remember much what happened after that night. It's still very blurry. I remember screaming and running from my dad. I remember him pushing me and grabbing his belt to be used more than for spankings. I remember my mom..
My mom. I remember that she saved me from that one incident. She said "It's just sex, what's the big deal? You lost your virginity at 12." And I hadn't even realized that it was over my losing my virginity.
Somehow she managed to calm him down, but they took my phone away and said I was grounded for 3 months or until further notice (meaning it could last longer).
The groundings I had were awful. They weren't little kid groundings or spoiled kid groundings where they kept their games and computers. Nah, I wasn't allowed to talk to friends, my computer was taken, my television was taken, my books were taken. I was just given a bed and if my parents were in a good mood, I would be allowed to join them for food. Otherwise, I would eat alone. I was allowed to only read the Bible, (and let's be honest, that's not the most entertaining book to read) and I did my homework. Most of the time I just read math books or science books just to switch it up. My brother got amazing groundings.. He kept his TV, his phone, his XBox... His groundings were just him in his room...
I digress.. Anyways. So I stopped talking to Mason since he didn't keep his promise (go figure) and tried to move on. I showed up to school without my school ID, and at JHS, that's immediate detention. So I had to have detention right after school ended. I didn't want my parents to worry about picking me up since my mom was out of state for work and my father was at work, so I asked some friends for a ride (I also had no way of contacting my parents since I didn't have a phone still). Everyone I knew said that their parent's weren't picking them up until 6 pm and it was 3:30 pm, so it looked like I was walking home. I didn't live too far. Just a couple of miles, it would take me like an hour or two worth of walking, so it would have been fine. I start heading out and out of no where, my father pulled up to me and screaming at me. He said that I was trying to catch a ride with Mason to take me home. I was sort of stunned, because I hadn't even talked to Mason in about a week, and I was trying to figure out how this assumption was just made.
He whipped out my phone and showed me a text directly from Mason saying "Hey, I heard you needed a ride home. If you want, I can give you a ride."
I didn't have my phone on me so it wasn't as if I could have known about this text and Mason wasn't anywhere near me where my father found me, so there was no need to freak out. But he screamed at me to get in the car, and as a good little daughter, I did.
And I sure wish I didn't... Maybe I wouldn't have so many nightmares and paranoid thoughts...
He was driving so fast. It was only 65 MPH on the highways but it felt much faster. Maybe it was all the screaming and questions he was asking me.
Father said, "Why did you ask Mason for a ride?!"
"I didn't! I asked some other friends, I didn't even see Mason there!" I exclaimed.
"LIAR!" He yelled. Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, "Why lie?! I already caught you! Just admit it! JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
But I had. I didn't know how else to get him to believe me. I just kept telling him the truth over and over and over again but it wasn't the right answer.
We got home. I was even more scared now the car ride ended. He got out of the car, ran over to my door before I could even get out, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car.
This wasn't my father. This wasn't the same guy that helped me scratch off "owies" or the same guy that taught me to ride a bike. I had no idea who this guy was. His eyes.. They were so cold and dead. They were so evil.
My arm. It hurt so bad. I got a bruise from how hard he grabbed me. He shoved me into the house and started yelling "TELL ME THE TRUTH! TELL ME THE TRUTH!" over and over again. I told him the full story and it wasn't enough. He somehow couldn't believe it. I was somehow lying and that my honesty was not real.
He got quiet. He looked over and saw a full load of laundry in the laundry basket all neatly folded and slightly over-spilling. And I was so curious as of why he was eyeballing it so often.. He grabbed the full loaded basket and threw it at me like pitching a baseball.
Now you may think "oh, just a laundry basket?" But this laundry basket weighed a good 10 pounds (easily more). And if something being thrown at you going at such a speed, it can feel harder than what it actually is.
For example, a baseball on average weighs about 5.25 oz, and the average potato weighs 5.3 oz and a large potato can weigh 8 oz. My father took a large potato and threw it at my mother's shoulder like a baseball... It dislocated her shoulder from how close he was to her and how fast he threw it.. She was left with a huge bruise for so weeks.
With someone that can throw that hard, I don't feel too embarrassed by saying that I got a big bruise from a full loaded laundry basket.
I fell. I tried to gather myself up, but he knocked me back on the ground anyways. He stood over my legs so I knew not to try to get back up and I watched him take his belt off. He doesn't just use his belt for spankings...
He started yelling at me again to tell him the truth, and I gave him the same answer, 'cause I couldn't think of a lie on the spot, and it wasn't the right answer.
Why could it not be the right answer? It was the truth! He wanted the truth! I gave it to him! I told him! I yelled it to him! I screamed and yelled the truth! And it was NEVER the right answer!
It gave me a flashback from when I was a little girl, only 4 years old, and my parents said that "as long as you tell us the truth, you will never be in trouble." And it was that exact flash back that made me feel.. It made me give up.
I screamed. I cried. He hit my leg! MY LEG! My left leg was more blue than my actual skin color. I hadn't seen such a big bruise in my life.
"WHY? WHY ARE YOU HITTING MY LEG?" I screamed. He just kept hitting me.
I screamed more and more and he said "Because you lied!"
"But I didn't!" I started sobbing and screaming "I didn't!" and he was about to hit me again and I yelled "I WANT MOM!"
And he stopped. For just a second I could breathe. I was allowed to breathe for just.. a second... I was thinking 'maybe I can call mom! She'll save me! She won't let him kill me!'
It was quiet for too long. One second too long.
And he finally spoke "Oh, Sara.. Your mother isn't here to save you this time! I am so tired of you getting away with so much bull sh** and when I try to punish you it's always your mom that saves you! Oh but not this time, Sara dear! You're finally getting what you deserve!"
My hope was shattered..
And he went at it again.. It continued for way too long.. I still have nightmares about this night. I remember exactly what he was wearing... How his hair looked. Which direction I was thrown. I can point out the exact location from the high school where he picked me up.
He was wearing dark brown shoes. The same ones he wore to work everyday cause they look nice with every outfit he wore. His shirt was a polo striped shirt. Brown and tan stripes.. And Khakis... And that belt.
I worked at night shifts Wal-Mart one summer to stalk the shelves and I couldn't stalk the men's department. Specifically the belts. When I touched one, I cried. I didn't even realize I was crying. It was just the touch of it..
The dark brown belt. It was so smooth. It had a nice brass buckle on it that looked nice but didn't feel nice when it hit you, too.
My brother arrived from school.. I screamed to him "CALL THE POLICE! CALL THE POLICE! DAD IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
But my brother was just as scared of him as I was. My brother just went into his room and hid. He was only 12, but I hated him for it for a long time..
My father had convinced him to stay out of it and when my father decided to catch his breath, I decided to try to make my escape. I wasn't sure where yet, but I had to at least get out of his reach. The door to the outside was too close, that he would easily stop me. I ran to the bathroom, to try to lock the door. It was far enough that maybe he wouldn't reach me in time for me to lock the door.
He turned his back. That was my chance! I got up and ran right into the bathroom before he did!
My hands were so shaky and my legs were so beaten on that I could hardly run as fast as I normally could.
I didn't close the door fast enough. I tried to just use my body as a weight to keeping the door closed but he was three times my size and weight. It didn't matter. He got inside the bathroom and told me to go to my room.
I ran inside my room and tried to close the door but he came in anyways.. And it happened again. He took his belt and hit my arms, my legs, my side. He hit my face. He was physically on top of me so I couldn't run away this time.
When fight or flight comes to play, and you aren't allowed to flight, you have no other option but to instinctively fight back. I never wanted to hurt my father. I used to cry when a cute butterfly died or if I accidentally hurt a frog. I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I didn't have control of myself at this point. I was just screaming and crying and I used what I had - my nails.
I clawed at my dad so often that I drew blood on him. I scratched his face, his arms, anywhere I could in hopes that it would get him off me so I could run away.
And after so many hours of being hit.. It finally happened. He got off of me and stopped hitting me. I waited to hear a sink running and I ran out the front door. I still had my shoes on and I didn't have a phone but I ran anyways.
The neighborhood was pretty open, there weren't many places to hide, but as long as I was in a public place, he wouldn't touch me. He would put on his "I am the fun sporty coach of a dad!" act. He found me not so long of me running. I was so exhausted from being hit in the legs, my legs were already throbbing without me needing to try to run on them. He asked me where I was going and I told him my friend's house.
Instead, I went to the closest restaurant and asked for their phone. I called Mason (I know, it wasn't a good idea, but he was the only one with a car that I knew) and asked him to take me to the police station, cause my father had seriously bruised me everywhere.
When I got there, I filed a report. I called my mom and told her everything and my first thought was "Finally! My mom! She can save me! She'll listen to me and we can make dad go away forever!"
She called my aunt and uncle to have them pick me up and then my father showed up at the police station to write out his side of the story.
He had quite the advantage. The odds that adults are going to listen to a 15 year old *girl*. I didn't realize it then, but the odds were stacked quite against me.
He lied to police. He told them that I was just a delusional 15 year old girl with teenage girl hormones that made me over exaggerate what was happening. The police and every adult ever bought his story. I showed the police my bruises and they asked him to explain it.. He said that "Well she was just disobeying and I had to discipline her, but she wouldn't stay still." And all my chances of being free from this wicked man were gone... He was a snake.. He had everyone around his finger. He called my mom and told her the same lie, so my mom stopped believing anything I said. He even added "Since she is so delusional, maybe we should take her to Laureate." Laureate is the psych ward in town. He had managed to take everything I said that was true about him and twist it into what made him look like the good guy and made me sound like an over dramatic teenager.
For years my mother looked at me like I was "not all there" and my brother decided to add onto my father's lie, because he was so scared of him, himself.
Two years after the incident, my parents got a divorce. My mom caught my father cheating on her.
My whole family still looking at me funny and still not talking to me.
For 4 years my mother didn't believe a single small thing I would even say, even after the divorce and her catching all of his lies. No one believed my warnings for four years.
Until it happened again.
My brother... I would never wish that kind of abuse on anyone.
After four long years of being silenced, of being treated like I was insane, of being treated like I was less than a person. For FOUR YEARS of not talking to anyone because my father told my friends at school and the school principle and anyone I ever knew.
For four years.. I can't even count how many times I got close to suicide over this. But I was too scared to actually do it myself. I tried to put myself in dangerous situations so maybe someone else would have done it for me. Maybe someone would be drunk and drive into me. Maybe I would fall asleep at the wheel. Nothing worked though. I stopped trying when I got to college.. I was safe there.. I think that's all I wanted..
For four years... My brother still was too scared to tell anyone what happened to me...
Four years after the incident, it happened again.. Almost the same exact word-for-word story I told my mom...
I got a phone call while I was in my dorm watching some tv and my mom told me the most great and horrendous news. "Sara, I.. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you all those years ago." I immediately sat up, wondering if she meant... "You were right. What happened to you, I should have listened. I am so sorry. I had no idea that your father actually did that to you, and I am so sorry that I didn't listen to you."
I immediately cried. I couldn't help it. Having your own mother think you are insane or like there is something wrong with you hurts so much... And it was like a weight was lifted off that I started sobbing. My next thought was, 'wait... why is she believing me now out of all these years?' so I asked "Wait, what happened? Why do you believe me now?"
I was hoping for more of a "Your father confessed" kind of thing, but I suppose that was hopeful.
"Sara.. I am so sorry. But your brother.. he was just beaten by your father and what he told me is almost exactly what had happened to you..."
I sank. I cried even more. My brother?! I had refused to see my father after the divorce, and still refuse, but maybe if I had gone to see him. Maybe if I kept him in my life it wouldn't have been my brother. I would much rather it be me.
My father stalked me, tested me, hit me, and did everything to keep me always on my toes.. I still get nightmares till this day and when I am having a normal day, I swear I can see him watching me. It's like I see his actual physical self right there, but when I look again he isn't there. I hate that my brother had those nightmares to share and he feels paranoid still that father is around somewhere..
I feel like I see him so often. On a bus.. In the car in front of me, in the truck behind me.
When I see his name, I immediately think back to the incident..
I can hardly live like this... I am about to graduate from college with a BSCS and I am still scared.. He facebook messaged me asking to go to my graduation, but I can't. I can't do it. People think I am being some selfish child that won't see her father, but I can't. I can't do it, and for my own mental health, I refuse..
#physical #mental #abuse #stalk #stalking #scared #ptsd #emotional
I have had an obsession with pregnant tummies ever since I was 11 years old, it happened when my mom was pregnant at the time she was 33, she'd always had the habit of leaving the door open whenever she'd changed her clothes, so seeing her in her panties and bra at the time had given me boners in my no fly underwear. Not long after I'd turned 11, my mom's tummy had started getting swollen and she had soon started wearing stretchy panties with her bras, which had come up a lot higher over her ever swelling tummy, that had given me a huge arousal in my teeny tight bathing suit, sometimes they were called speedos. By the time my mom had become 7 months pregnant, I had gotten a big boner in my tiny jean shorts, as she had worn her bikini bra and big short shorts, what a body my mom had, even while pregnant. I could tell that she had loved showing off her tummy, even at the time she had been pregnant.
I just developed a crush and I usually cling on to them hard af and that's what happened this week , I ended up founding out that we are actually related
....shes my cousin and honestly I still cant get her out of my head . Idk what to do *signs*
To get to school, I have to drive by bus. And on my bus is this guy, I don't want to say his real name... let's call him Bert.
Bert gets into the bus after me and he has the habit to always sit in the seat next to me.
And I guess he doesn't have flowing water at home or something because he smells really bad!
The most problem is, he has a crush on me. I am 100 percent sure about that. He stalks me on Facebook, as soon as I'm online, he writes me, makes me compliments and stuff... And on the bus, he doesn't say a word and I don't want to talk to him. He's very strange, creepy and he's not cultivated, at all!
And today, he asked me out and I was suddenly so angry, so I yelled at him, insulted him and ran away.
And I have to admit that I don't regret it. Maybe he'll leave me alone now.
what I learnt from seeing a spiritual healer is that I always felt bad for dreams I had and any sexual thoughts or activities I did as a kid. Anyway, one nightmare stuck in my head as a teen (well a few did really) some of my dreams were very gruesome and ugly violent or very picture slide where it flashed past and the picture made the mood over a word. A lot of metaphors and word punts as well.
I asked someone about the dreams of princess diana that I would have at different times and one really captured her control over the world and I think that is what ultimately led to her demise as a human and her life so young to die. Because she was a dormant sexual image and a powerful feminine and a sign of virginal and power and elitism most people never obtain as well as a paradox of insecurities and weaknesses.
For me as a teen girl I felt I loved her as much as when I was a child but as a teen began to wonder why I loved her. Should she deserve that love as I didn't know her and she appeared to me to be a woman of selfish ends being totally spoilt for choice and I was completely the opposite. I didn't hate her but I grew to dislike women like her more and more as I found them a threat to me being able to be sexually valuable and relevant for work and love and income. It all felt so unfair. I seen so many black people making cultural improvements and I was not personally, I only ever benefited as a side step from some one else in the family and I was never allowed to be a provider or achiever or image to look up to. I was the loser teen to loser adult with no talents and no qualities to shape as I got more mature it would appear in the eyes of others but not in myself, I didn't see myself as others saw me. I guess I never will one way or another. I just wish they could live the life "my life was the complete message of the song by whitney whatever who died, "didn't we almost have it all" but we never did and we were fooling ourselves to think we would !!! I wish others knew this feeling of half getting their to be slammed down and pushed to unemployment and no love and questing why is life so shitty and gee god has to be the biggest retard ever !!! cuz he has no idea of what the heck he is doing and it all makes no sense and there is no happiness to be had in life.
how about you find out how it feels to be invited by the special girl and your prettier but everyone still likes all the others but you. your the one helping others weddings and parties and doing all the nice things and no one thinks of you. you are all alone and left alone when you have given too much of yourself and no one is worrying about your feelings tonight or caring for you at all because you didn't add enough detail to the picture or story. you didn't add some disclaimer or you didn't say what the others wanted to hear.
I still think diana died because the queen got sick of playing second fiddle to diana and she was jealous of her being so loved. The queen has killed a lot of nice women in her time. And what she didn't kill the male royals did out of as much jealous and needing the power.
My spiritual healer told me that my dream was an expression of diana's over dominance on all our minds and the world and that is what actually killed her needing to be in ever magazine and too loved for her own good. It showed her dark side she didn't want others to see and maybe there were fragments of me in whatever I saw in her reflecting at me as well of who I idolised and who I wanted to be like as a teen and adult and needing someone to look up to as the hero and princess bride like barbie image. She told me this was all normal and our dreams are often metaphoric and not always factual or literal. and I didn't kill her or harm her and I had nothing to feel bad about at all.
I have 4 cats for 2 years now. One tomcat and 3 cats. Tommy, my tomcat (hahaha.. coincidence) has the habit to pee in every corner of the house and it drives me crazy. And some days ago, he brought it to the top. He peed on me, while I was lying on the couch!
I was so angry with him that I caught him and locked him in the shower... where I pissed on him...
Now I'm so sorry but I was so angry to that time and I wanted revenge.
I'm unemployed and because I am lazy I cancelled college. Now I live at home again, my parents pay for me and I just spend their money on useless stuff or booze. I party almost every weekend, I get drunk and pay drinks for the ladies.
I beg for money and lend money from my friends. But I don't think about giving it back, occasionally they'll forget.
Well the biggest problem is not the begging and the laziness, it's simply that I can't care for myself... that bothers me.
#laziness #unemployed #money #parents #begging #lending #friends #egoist
I lost a bet to someone on discord (m17) I (m22 )have to be there slave for 24 hours irl with no rules (other than nothing too weird ) I’m both scared and excited to see what happens.
i wanted to something so great so my parents can say i am proud of you my son . as i am not good at many things but i know i am very much good at my work and i am doing it with all my heart and doing really great my manager and other team member complimented me about my work many times but in returns i didn't get good appraisal and some time they cancel my leaves and all it's heart me a lot. sometime i think it's not my hard work in office that is going to make my parents proud i keep looking the opportunities to do something different but all the time i ended at my work like i am good at this, i can do something great in this.. maybe i am working in the wrong company or under wrong manger coz its been 2 year and they still don't know about my abilities and utilizing me in that way. all they care about constant money is coming not giving the opportunities to younger employees who can really make a difference.
I'm sexually attracted to the Robot from the Netflix Lost in Space and I want it to wreck me 😍
I asked someone out and the emails my friend after school to telll me yes this was two weeks ago I haven’t told my parents but he is so nice and easy to to talk to we have both had depression and add athsma ect how do I tell them any tips??.
On the 8th of April 2015 I confessed to a girl who seemed to have no interest whatsoever in me. We got closer and closer as the days passed. Two weeks from the confession day, she asked me out on a date (25th April). We went for a movie date. That was my first and my last date with her. We held hands throughout the movie. We weren't even officially together when we went on that date. On the night of 10th May 2015, she asked me to officially be her girlfriend. I was over cloud 9. My happiest moment. We were like the happiest couple but I don't know why she started ignoring me. Exactly on her birthday was our one month as a couple. Things weren't roses between us but I still loved her. The ignoring got worse after her birthday. For 2 weeks I felt like poop. Being ignored by the person I loved the most. I decided to break it off with her considering the fact that she didn't seem to have interest in me anymore. She agreed which shattered my heart into pieces because what's lost will never return.
I cried like a baby that night. 45 days with her. It's not that long but every memory just makes me smile. It's been 2 months since the break up and now she treats me like a stranger. It hurts.
Confessions by confessionstories.org
