#i'm so fucking repressed i still feel like i'm seventeen and my world has just crumbled and no one can know
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#journal eb#today's thoughts#day started terribly bc i must've had a nightmare#felt incredibly vulnerable and had to force myself out of bed#the days keep passing and nothing happens#i don't do anything#sometimes i think i have to choose between having emotions and getting things done#like i have to choose if i want to keep my room clean and study for exams or if i want to feel things#i can't have both#i just feel stressed out but like all the stress is under a blanket#and now and then i accidentally lift it up and then it hits me full force#but it's always there just not as present#idk what to do#i wish i could talk to someone who would listen and actually push me to help myself#whenever i reveal the tiniest sliver of all the bullshit that's going on in my life all ppl do is frown and look at me with pity and move on#things are bad but most of the time i'm numb to it#i hate being alone i hate being so independent i did this to myself#i hate that vulnerability pains me and makes me so uncomfortable i'd rather die than experience it#i'm so fucking repressed i still feel like i'm seventeen and my world has just crumbled and no one can know#i don't know#i don't fucking know#i don't feel good
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Quiet contemplation, Buzz Buzz sensation
Much like Bridget Jones I am quietly waiting on my dream man, secretly hoping it's the guy I'm currently shagging. Being single is hard, maybe even harder when the start of my single life genuinely looks like the opening to a horrible Hallmark movie. I suppose I should really start there, to be frank… not pretty. Trigger warnings for those who have dealt with abuse, this part is where I won’t be delicate. I am worried sometimes I might choose to forget this part but the reality is I don’t know if I ever can. The man I dated for six and a half years was everything you need to warn your sisters, your daughters, your loved ones about. The guy who made you feel like you were on top of the world one minute, only to remind you how deep rock bottom really is the next. The guy who makes a seventeen year old feel dangerous in all the most delicious ways. You know the twenty-one year old with the weed and the booze you swore would only be a phase. Yeah, that guy. I could lay into him so much more, and I will. I promise you I will but seriously I’m the main attraction here. Currently I’m trying this thing where I heal all my wounds, and god damn this hurts so bad. I’m sure on the sad nurses scale that they show you at the hospital can’t even show you the kind of pain this is. No amount of frownie faces can explain how hard it is to break some of these cycles, but today is just day one of whatever this is so lets start with the current feelings I’m in.
I don’t know many people who have had to start over quite like this. Honestly I'm sure there's a support group I’m supposed to go to where people like me do exist. Until then, I am going to figure this out on my own. Right now I feel simultaneously twelve , ninety ,and twenty-five . Let me elaborate. I had to move out of my house, Into a few friends' houses. From there I moved back in with my sister. That's restarting my twenty's bit. There's the crippling anxiety… needing to ask my friends for a ride or I can’t come to play. The constant need for approval, there's the Twelve. Now the ninety, that's special. I am not the smartest person you’ll ever meet. Understand this, I have definitely lived more life than most people. Call it the ninety, call it the past, fuck call it trauma if you want to. Whatever you call it, just understand some of the people who try their hardest are because they’ve gone through the most. My story is neither here nor there though. I have had a life of opportunity and hard work. I have both been handed everything and hand nothing left to offer people but a broken bitter person. Okay that's enough of this… subject change!
Does anyone know how difficult it is to feel sexy, have sex, think about sex… while being sexually repressed you’re entire life? Yet it's something I admittedly think about, on a daily basis. I don’t know why this is embarrassing but it absolutely is for me. Like yes, hi grandma I am going to talk about the smut I read and the men I've slept with, also yes... I am going to dads birthday. However sex has been both the best and worst coping mechanisms i have. Maybe I'm self-diluted here but I've heard it's okay to use the tools you've been given to heal. Currently that tool is a half off hitachi… you know the kind that plugs into the wall. Even if I can't currently use it; because what they don’t warn you about is how loud they are. I keep having these light flashbacks of the last time I used it, anxiously looking at my phone to see if the guy I like will message me back. I know it's wildly too soon to date since the “incident", timings a bitch right now. I just want to heal before I get into a relationship but I still need the cuddling and the sex, oh and I suppose the human contact might be nice. I suppose.. Anyway, I’m just now understanding what my real sexual needs are, now that I’m finally away from the person I first developed this kind of relationship with. I now figured it out. I don’t exactly know what healthy looks like, so what does a healthy relationship to sex look like?
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This is bad.
Boss and second best friend is presumed dead and I just had sex with his wife who happens to be my best friend bad. In his bed. In his house. Pretty sure I need to go and repent at a church when I'm not even religious bad.
Oh right, that's what happened. Minus the going to a church and confessing his sins to a priest part. That's probably what he should do, but he doubts he'll actually go through with that. A priest would probably somehow get to Sam or worse, end up knowing where Sonny is and been harboring him all this time. As far as he knows, you can't really have a priest not tell your secrets.
He's fucked. Scratch that, they're fucked.
Wrong choice of expression there. Very wrong. Ironic, but severely wrong expression.
What the hell is he supposed to do from here? What are they supposed to do from here? Go and confess their sins to a pastor? Too long and they'd probably end up in jail if that happened. Pretend it never happened? He knows that's not going to happen. There's going to be a long, drawn out conversation about it. Move to different continents and never speak to each other again? Too extreme, not to mention unlikely. Something would happen and they'd both be pulled back to town or to whatever continent they were on to post bail or something. Besides, they'd been friends forever. They could never not be in each other's lives. It was impossible.
Oh god. They're friends. No benefits. The last time there had been benefits attached, they had hated each other. Not in a typical "I hate you bitch" way, but in a "it doesn't matter if I never see you again. In fact, my life would be better if I didn't" way.
Needless to say they were not going back to those days. It would be impossible now; both had intertwined lives. Their kids were close and both were close to each other's kids. Extra parents, if you will. Not to mention, they both knew way too much about each other.
Irony is a cruel mistress, he thinks, thinking back to when they didn't even know each other's names. Those were the days of Robin and picking up random girls in bars before he learned his lesson about the girls he picked for his hookups carefully because if he didn't, there was a chance he'd end up with his entire life turned into a tornado of blonde hair and getting her out of trouble.
The quiet snoring at his side suddenly came to a stop, a telltale sign she's woken up or close to it.
Suddenly, he's all too aware of what happened last night between the two and what's going on now. They'd had sex (protected, at least they were stable enough to remember that) in the house Sonny bought, in his bed. The kids were at their friends houses, or in the case of Avery at her mother's. So at least the kids hadn't heard them.
Flashforward what he imagines can't be more than twelve hours and now they're in Sonny's bed, naked and both awake or waking up. The kids wouldn't suspect anything, provided none of his clothes besides his jacket were downstairs. He'd spent the night in general plenty of times and that had increased in this year.
Granted, their impulse control last night was to be questioned given that this had happened.
"Jason? What are you doing here?" Carly asks tiredly, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "And where the hell is your shirt? Or mine, for that matter- oh god."
She remembers. Dammit. This is both a good and a bad thing.
Good in the thing that he's now confirmed that they were sober, bad that now they've got decisions to make and neither of them make the best decisions when it's early in the morning and they're uncaffeinated.
"We need to talk about this, but first, coffee. Where the hell are our clothes? Please tell me we didn't leave them downstairs," she groans.
They find their clothes quickly enough and get dressed slightly awkwardly before heading downstairs to brew coffee.
The moss bowl that seems to continually grow, to the point that Jason was gifted some moss to go in his apartment as a housewarming gift from Carly, seems extra interesting this morning as he studies it intensely. That is one big moss plant. Over the course of a year, it got much larger than expected.
"Alright, we are not going to stand here in this awkward silence. We are going to discuss what happened last night and then figure out what the hell is means," she decides, handing him a mug of coffee.
"What is there to discuss? We had sex," he answers her simply after taking a sip of coffee.
"That's the exact thing we have to discuss."
"We're both very aware of how that works, Carly. Would you like me to pull up a diagram online and explain it?" Jason teases her.
"No smartass, I want to discuss the sex."
"Oh god," he groans into his coffee. "It's not even ten am and you've already decided that this is the big fight of the day for you. Couldn't this wait until, I don't know, Scout graduates college?"
"Jason," she warns, "humor me and discuss last night. I promise that this conversation will end sooner if you just agree to actually have it sooner."
"It'll end ten minutes before my funeral as opposed to at my funeral, then," he jokes.
"Do you want me to think about your death?"
"Alright fine I give in, we'll talk about it."
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" She asks triumphantly.
"You are lucky I don't have anything else to do today besides paperwork I can have someone else do," he answers.
There's not enough coffee in the world to stop the headache he can feel she's going to bring to him today. It's a sixth sense by now, that she'll be giving him a headache that won't be fixed until the problem is solved.
In a weird way, it's a relief know that she does that. It's comforting in the strangest way.
Neither of them claimed to ever understand why it's calming.
"I know," she says, a smirk on her face. "Now, to the discussion about last night. We did it."
"We have already confirmed that information, yes," he agrees.
"It was good."
"Yeah."
"We're friends."
"Correct."
"I need more than one word answers!"
"We're reviewing information we both already agreed on and these aren't questions."
Sighing, Carly dramatically sips her coffee, getting a quiet chuckle out of her friend. "I still would appreciate an answer that wasn't a synonym of yes. Maybe one that's, I don't know, five or more words."
"Then ask me a question."
"Fine. Where do you want to go from here? Do we stay friends or be more or be friends with benefits or something else I haven't thought of yet?" The blonde rambles, caffeine kicking in.
"You're rambling."
"I'm aware."
"Just checking."
"Answer the question!"
"Calm down," he urges. "I don't know where to go from here."
"You're always the one who knows what to do in situations like these, not me!"
"Yes, I always come up with a plan of what to do when you and I hook up a day after Christmas. Because we've been in this situation loads of times before," he chuckle sarcastically.
"I meant when I do something impulsive, or you do something impulsive smartass," Carly glares at him playfully.
"Ah yes, my life's sole purpose: Stopping you from doing stupid things. And when that fails, getting you out of trouble," he jokes again. "I don't know what to do, for once. We may have a major problem on our hands."
"May have? Jason, if you can't figure out what to do from here, I think we're in major trouble! I haven't made a major life decision without a severe amount of your input in a very long time," the blonde exclaims, downing the last of her coffee like it'll help her make a decision of what to do here.
"That probably says something about you being codependent on me."
"You love me running into your apartment with your problems."
"Sometimes. Other times, your problems and plans are so stupid I don't understand them but somehow they hinge on me going along with them."
"Well of course they hinge on you going along with them? You're my best friend, if they didn't I'm convinced that our friendship would simply never recover from it. We'd live our lives without a single hope of ever getting back to this because you didn't go along with my plan," she says dramatically, smiling. "And that would be the worst thing to ever happen to either of us."
"Mhm," he says, rolling his eyes but a small smile pulls at his lips. "I believe you decided that we needed to figure this out."
"Well we do!"
"So far you've only stated the facts of what happened and some of the options of what to do. You're the one who decided we have to figure out exactly what this means before I'm even fully coherent."
"Drink your coffee faster."
"Solid advice coming from a woman who's already formed three plans before her first cup of coffee."
"You're right, there are about seventeen different possibilities in my mind at the moment based off of what decision we come to," she smiles at him. "Would you like to hear them?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"Then let's get it over with," he sighs, sipping his coffee in an attempt to not deal with a massive headache.
"First scenario is that we pretend this never happened and stay exactly the same. No awkwardness, last night is essentially wiped from our memories. Solid option, but it's impossible. Second is friends with benefits but we don't catch feelings. Again, solid option with no to minimal awkwardness, but I have a feeling we both know it won't end up happening, especially with me. Third is friends with benefits but we do catch feelings. Could end in repressing feelings or could end with us dating. Either way, ends up being fairly complicated. Fourth is that we begin dating. This one has equal pros and cons, primarily that if that ends up going south we won't have our friendship being the same and that would be the worst but that if it goes well, marriage. No more kids though, I think we've got enough of those.
"Fifth is we both move away and never see each other again. Not happening. We both would end up arrested. Or killed," Carly shudders at the thought, "Sixth option is that you go back to Sam and I begin the rather depressing at this age journey of dating. Seventh is that we acknowledge last night but continue as friends. Can't decide the pros and cons of that one."
"I haven't even finished my coffee yet and you're already planning seven different ideas for your future?" Jason asks, impressed and terrified at the same time. "Good god."
"Well now you have seven options to choose from. No pressure but if you choose five, I will never forgive you."
"Five is automatically out of the story, don't worry about that."
"In that case, you have six options to choose from."
"Why can't you choose?"
"Because I'm incapable of making a decision of this caliber on my own."
"But I'm not?"
"Fine, we'll make this decision together. After all, it affects us both." Carly agrees against her better judgement. "We should make a list."
"A list?" He groans. "This sounds dangerously close to a plan."
"It's not a plan, though. That's the beauty of it, we make a pros and cons list. From there, we make our decision."
"Most people would flip a coin."
"That's a terrible way to make a decision."
"Not really but fine, we'll make a list."
"I knew you'd give in."
To be continued when I'm not half asleep
oh dear-
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