Dating by

Dating Over 30: Because dating is hard, no matter how old you are.

2014.11.04 00:18 Dating Over 30: Because dating is hard, no matter how old you are.

Dating Over Thirty is a sub for discussion and advice on dating and relationships for people over the age of 30. **This is not a place to post personals or "looking for" or hookups.**
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2013.08.10 08:11 Hey_Man_Slow_Down Zootopia

Zootopia is a 2016 Academy Award-winning animated film produced by Walt Disney Animation Studios.
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2010.12.16 05:41 MLP: Friendship is Magic Reddit Community

/mylittlepony is the premier subreddit for all things related to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Here all fans can discuss the show, share creative works, or connect with fellow members of the community in a safe for work and friendly environment!
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2020.12.01 02:29 WS_2018 WMAF is definitely due to self hatred on the part of AF.

I know the above title might be a overly broad generalization and I’ll get hateful messages from some, but I have two older sisters who married WM in their first marriages so I have a good perspective on this issue.
Me and my two older sisters came to the States when I was young and they were in their late teens. The top song on the radio at the time was My Little Red China Girl by David Bowie. WTF, right? If you don’t know the song, search it up on YouTube and watch it. A lot of kids would sing that song as my sisters would walk by them. Back then, it wasn’t too uncommon for white kids, riding their bikes, would casually stop just to call you the usual “chi**” name while doing the slant eye gesture from across the street.
All this in addition to my parents fighting all the time due to stress of adjusting to living in a foreign country can really take a toll on someone’s psyche. I was too young to make too much of it, but my older teenage sisters began to hate everything about themselves. I watched as they grew to despise everything about themselves including their family and heritage.
They have only dated white men in their lives and married a white male. They are both divorced from their first marriages. One is now single and the other one married another white guy. What’s funny is that they have been watching a lot of Korean drama recently and I get the feeling that they are interested in Korean culture again. I have never talked about these issues with them, because it’s a rather sensitive topic - even among siblings.
I think it all begins at home and reinforced by society. Everyone’s situation is different, but based on my observation, this is pretty typical from the AF perspective.
submitted by WS_2018 to aznidentity [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:26 ford_f150_10 Anyone got dating advice? I’m 14 almost 15 and I’m trying to get back into doing dating and doing it seriously

Hi everyone! I’m 14 going on 15 this coming February. I’ve done a bit of dating before, but dude to some super personal issues in my life, I fell off that wagon late 2019. I feel lonely and I’d love to have a girl by my side. I’m super shy, I’m a big and kinda chubby guy, and I’m honestly not that great looking, plus my conversation skills are god awful. I just don’t know how to start up conversations with a random girl or anything like that. I’m not looking for doing anything online, I’d much rather prefer in person dating, does anyone have advice on how I can try to get back into that scene? Without screwing it up?
submitted by ford_f150_10 to teenagers [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:24 DBTT2005 I (25M) most likely ruined things with my girlfriend (23F) because of past emotional hurt. Anything to do but move on?

DISCLAIMER: Posting this again because it was deleted because it did not pose a question.
This might be a long post, and I would appreciate a lot if any of you guys and girls that finds the kindness in your hearts to read it and say your opinion. I just need to vent things off.
Two years ago I met this girl in University, after I changed Degrees. We eventually formed a group of friends which consists of me and three other girls (including her). We all got along great and we have common chats and what not on social media, you know, the normal things in Uni. Initially, I never even considered dating her, because I was into someone else during the friendship early months/years and she was not even my closest friend from that group, that was another girl that I was friends with even before that group.
During these friendship years I had a horrible relationship where my emotions were treated like crap and it ended up with her cheating on me and hiding this fact until a friend of hers actually called me to say it because she could not fathom seeing us together knowing what she had done. I was completely destroyed because I put my heart and soul into it, sacrified a lot (since she was away studying but I always tried to visit her weekly) and even before the cheating, she was very random in her emotions and close to the end many times she would ask for space to work on her thoughts, which I always accepted, even if I was finding it increasingly odd.
Before this, and even before meeting these University friends, I had a lot of close calls. I once got into a girl and everything was going well, we kissed and all of that, we were talking of making it official and all the sort, only for her to ask for space, which I gave her because I do believe we all need our own space. What happened? During that space she ended up going back to her ex and I was destroyed. Other situations ocurred like one girl being sure of liking me, just to say no days after, because of reasons I was never explained to.
All of this made me a different person in regards to dating and love and it made me hurt this very special girl that I adore.Things were going well, very well, we had kissed, I even wrote her a letter hidden on a gift to which she told me me the answer soon, and it was a good one and we were a couple, even if this was her first serious relationship and I was taking massive care in terms of physical things and moving at her own pace and trying to make her speak with me on her fears so was to establish a good communication base where I planned on talking about my fears as well, which she seemed to be doing.For the last two weeks though, I noticed she was texting less but I just dismissed it as her being busy with Uni (I have graduated last summer, she's in her last year) and found nothing of it and wasn't even being needy.I just gave her a text every few days saying I hope the week is going well and you are managing the workload. But like I said, I was perfetly fine with her not talking, and I was not bugging her in any sense because I have my own life as well and she's a very busy people as well.Last week, however, she said she needed space because she was feeling overwhelmed and confused and that she did not know what to do regarding us.
To this day I don't know why, but I acted on impulse. I replied saying I respect her wishes for space but that on my part nothing is confusing and i'm certain of everything we shared and have said to each other since we confessed our feelings but that this hurt me, because it was completely unexpected and that I needed to be alone, with my thoughts, until she cleared her head and was exiting the chat we had. On this impulsive streak, I also removed everything that might have remembered me from her. I did not think, right away at least, of the stupid actions I was doing...but it eventually hit me during the weekend and specially during long hours waiting with a friends who had a cancer scare, that I was too harsh.
I'm not trying to excuse my actions, but what I did was due to the trigger the word space gives me due to my emotional baggage and not directly because of her. Specially when it was given out of the blue and without much of a clear expectation into why she was feeling like that. As such my mind got scared, I thought it was the past happening over again and antecipated the end by doing what I did.I realized this, days after, and I sent her a letter to her home. I opened up completely, explained my past, explained that it was not due to her, but to me actingly stupidly due to the past experiences of being hurt when I had all the patience in the world and because she did not explain what was behind her need for space.
She replied and said she understood but that what I did hurt her deeply and that she wanted me to know that the space was not because she did not like me, but because all of these emotions are new for her, like the fear of long commitment, and it's making her very anxious, but that she knew it was not because she did not like me because she misses me and thinks of me. She also said this changed things and that she had a decision taken before my apology and it's capable of keeping it but more than ever this space is necessary and that she will not make any promises. I replied saying she can have all the space in the world and that I will understand, even if hurts deeply, if she wants to break things up for good. I also apologized to the other friends in our group for how I acted.
I'm too smart to expect anything other that an end from this. From my experience when you decide you want to break-up, you don't change that and I assume that's the decision she has/had taken. But it's destroying me inside, I fucked up, I did shit on impulse to the girl I care the most and I'm facing the consequences but...I don't know, It feels too harsh at times, I should not have done the things I did, but I feel this could have been avoided had she explained the motives behind the space right away. I would never have reacted like this but the damage is done and she's hurt and I can't erase what I did and trust me, it hurts more knowing you fucked up things up, instead of being hurt on, specially when you care deeply.
TL:DR: Things were going well with a girl, were dating for some months now and I let my emotional baggage take over when she asked for space. Anything to do or should I just start moving on?
submitted by DBTT2005 to relationships [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:23 TaranaDolmeto Zero sense of self

I don’t remember studying myself in the mirror or in pictures from the ages of 8-16. I was a fat kid. Though I am actually pretty while skinny, I literally turn into a monster when I gain 10 pounds. I look like a completely different person. Other people can gain weight and look fine but I can’t, and I know I’m not being delusional about this. I had no idea I was actually at all attractive until I started losing weight at 15.
I didn’t meet the basic requirements of humanity. All major social experiences were for people, I wasn’t a person. I never thought I would be worthy of dating anyone let alone marriage. Going to college. Going out with friends to concerts or camping. These were all things for humans.
I felt non-existent, except to be used as a punching bag. I did not imagine the future at all. I learned to be content with watching TV, reading books, and drawing. After I did lose the weight, at 18, I thought I might finally be considered human by others, and start having these experiences. However, I chronically feel like an imposter.
I think the most annoying thing is that other people have thousands of stories. All these things they experienced in childhood that I didn’t. I feel like a major component of conversation is telling stories, and I have almost none to tell. Either than stuff that depresses the mood and makes people uncomfortable.
submitted by TaranaDolmeto to AvPD [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:21 boxybrown1234 32 [F4M] You stay classy San Diego

I'm from the most wonderful city in the world. I say this because I have not traveled much. We have the desert, ocean and mountains all within an hour or two drive. We have perfect weather, slightly nice people, good Mexican food, an insane cost of living and a serious homeless problem.
I'm looking for someone close by. Can hang out and get to know each other. I like someone who is also a little weird and cynical. Slightly bitter and sarcastic.
I'm chubby, blonde hair, blue eyes, strong and as graceful as a bull in a china shop. I don't think looks are too important, I like slightly bigger guys. Personality, integrity and sense of humor go a long way. I'm pretty short so height isn't too huge of a deal, chances are you'll still be taller than me in heels.
I have a job that I love and expect you to also. I also have one child. I keep my dating life separate from my kid. I'd only bring her around someone if it was getting serious. She's got a Dad, I'm not looking for that. I don't mind if you have kids. I prefer someone who is also a parent and also divorced.
I don't do casual sex. I've been happily single for a few years and it's not my thing. I think a real connection is needed to build the trust that is needed for awesome sex. I don't stand for sloppy, quick, cheap, unsatisfying sex. Go big or go home buddy.
If you have read this far congratulations. If you would like to message me go for it. Tell me something awesome you have accomplished in the past few years. Go ahead and brag a little. I'm 100% serious, message me a good brag so I can cheer you on.
submitted by boxybrown1234 to R4R30Plus [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:19 deadmanonaferry Carrying my (23f) ex's (22m) baggage for our entire relationship, and he's still in denial

A bit of context: We had been dating for over 3yrs and began to struggle throughout covid. It's been a week since we broke up, in public. I naturally was in tears, snot and everything, because it was semi-out of the blue. He couldn't shed a single tear. Covid meant the break up had to be public, which was just humiliating, but I can happily say I have no dear of crying in public anymore.
He basically gave up on our relationship. I broke up with him in summer because he just couldn't commit to me long term, having travelled to meet his friends and meeting me at a hotel, but couldn't visit my home, where my parents would have welcomed him happily (in three years he had never come to visit). He could barely say 'i love you', hug me other than in bed, say meaningful things to me or respond to my statements of love. He had a very damaged childhood, filled with emotional and occasional physical abuse, and all I wanted was to be someone who made him feel safe enough to emote and be himself. I found myself tolerating his hesitance at meeting my parents, visiting each other, meeting my friends, and various other things that signalled to me that he didn't love me as much as I loved him. We got back together at the end of summer to try things out once more.
I think deep down he did love me, because in many ways he was an incredible boyfriend. He comforted me when I got overwhelmed by bad grades or other things out of my control, he helped me out so much and kept me driven to succeed. However, I got used to applauding the bare minimum. His cold style of love was just not enough, and frankly quite immature. My brain started doing this:
He can't say I love you back? Don't question it.
He reacts weirdly to my romantic gestures? He's just being silly.
He only spent 2hrs max meeting my parents before disappearing again to "study" and wouldn't put the time aside even when I'd booked him a ticket to a show in the evening, when I know he doesn't study? Make excuses for him.
When we broke up last week, I mentioned these things and he admitted he didn't know how to commit to me, but he loved me, and regretted it. The first time we broke up (lasted 2 weeks, but severely injured his pride) I told him he needs to get therapy so that, instead of hiding from emotional vulnerability and trust, he could form strong relationships with people and make progress in romantic relationships. I did the same this time too. Both times he said he'd "try". The first time, I told him that's what I wanted him to do for us to get back together. He never did. I think he's still in denial about needing therapy.
How do I get him to see how badly his emotional constipation is an obstacle for him creating lasting, healthy relationships? I can't speak to him anymore, as we agreed to go no contact, but I need to drop some of his stuff off after Xmas. Is it appropriate to write him a short letter to tell him I'm thinking of him and that, if I can (and have) consult a doctor about my mental health, then he should too? I care about him still, and I will for a long time, and I just need him to take his mental health seriously.
TL;DR: my now ex boyfriend is almost definitely still in denial about how his emotional trauma impacted our relationship and my responses made it worse. How do I make sure he seeks help so he can be happier in future?
submitted by deadmanonaferry to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:18 orange-queen [F4A playing M] Long Term Partner Wanted.

Hi there! I’m 23, Central Standard Timezone, and female!
Partner requirements: must be 20 to 28 years old - Must play male - write in third person - 2+ paragraphs - NO smut - must be able to post a few times a week, preferably a few times a day - good grammar and punctuation - Discord only. - Message me with your age, timezone, and a sample of your writing if you’re interested! I will NOT answer messages that just say hey, hi, hello, or ask if I’m still looking.
I’m also interested/have ideas in/for things such as Superheroes, witches, vampires, Vikings, and other things. Here’s a whole list of roleplays I currently have plots for:
The Selection: Basically a slightly futuristic twist on the BacheloBachelorette. One prince or princess comes of age and must go through an event called The Selection where they must find love from a specific amount of contestants.
Royal Mistake: a prince or princess from another country comes to America for school under a disguise and fake name, and falls for a regular American commoner.. It calls for big scandals if anyone finds out who the noble in disguise really is.
Fake Fiancée: Y/C and his fiancée have recently called things off. There’s only one real problem to this... He was supposed to bring her to meet the family at a huge family reunion/wedding/event of your choice. He resorts to calling M/C his college best friend or his best friend’s slightly younger sister, maybe they’re twins, idk.
Fandoms: we can discuss Avatar the Last Airbender, Disney Descendants, Percy Jackson, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc. Really hoping to find someone to play Draco or a Draco like OC against my OC! I do not double, sorry.
The Contract: two top young rising celebrities don’t get along at all, for various reasons. What happens when their managers go behind their backs and set the two up on a date? Forcing them to sign a six month contract , claiming to be a couple in the public eye.
The Wolves: Many years ago a young girl was attacked by a pack of wolves in a place where wolves aren’t common. A twist on your cliche werewolf story.
The Vlog: Nothing too crazy is planned out yet. Thinking something along the lines of vloggers/youtubers.
submitted by orange-queen to AdvancedLiterateRP [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:17 orange-queen [F4A playing M] Long Term Partner Wanted.

Hi there! I’m 23, Central Standard Timezone, and female!
Partner requirements: must be 20 to 28 years old - Must play male - write in third person - 2+ paragraphs - NO smut - must be able to post a few times a week, preferably a few times a day - good grammar and punctuation - Discord only. - Message me with your age, timezone, and a sample of your writing if you’re interested! I will NOT answer messages that just say hey, hi, hello, or ask if I’m still looking.
I’m also interested/have ideas in/for things such as Superheroes, witches, vampires, Vikings, and other things. Here’s a whole list of roleplays I currently have plots for:
The Selection: Basically a slightly futuristic twist on the BacheloBachelorette. One prince or princess comes of age and must go through an event called The Selection where they must find love from a specific amount of contestants.
Royal Mistake: a prince or princess from another country comes to America for school under a disguise and fake name, and falls for a regular American commoner.. It calls for big scandals if anyone finds out who the noble in disguise really is.
Fake Fiancée: Y/C and his fiancée have recently called things off. There’s only one real problem to this... He was supposed to bring her to meet the family at a huge family reunion/wedding/event of your choice. He resorts to calling M/C his college best friend or his best friend’s slightly younger sister, maybe they’re twins, idk.
Fandoms: we can discuss Avatar the Last Airbender, Disney Descendants, Percy Jackson, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc. Really hoping to find someone to play Draco or a Draco like OC against my OC! I do not double, sorry.
The Contract: two top young rising celebrities don’t get along at all, for various reasons. What happens when their managers go behind their backs and set the two up on a date? Forcing them to sign a six month contract , claiming to be a couple in the public eye.
The Wolves: Many years ago a young girl was attacked by a pack of wolves in a place where wolves aren’t common. A twist on your cliche werewolf story.
The Vlog: Nothing too crazy is planned out yet. Thinking something along the lines of vloggers/youtubers.
submitted by orange-queen to RoleplayToo [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:17 MarieAnn6783 I found out that my fuck buddy stalks my Instagram after leaving me, why is he doing this and should I block him?

I was having casual sex with this guy (40) once a week for four month. We are not close friends but we have known each other for years . He always had a crush on me but never asked me out directly, he just used to say that I’m out of his league and that I can do better than him. I never considered dating him (he kinda had a reputation of a womanizer ) So I was lonely and I initiated a hook up.
We were having conversations and had fun times, hanging out for a few hrs after sex. He cooked dinners. The chemistry was crazy. Once even said he’d love to watch a movie together and go together visit his friend but I didn’t really reciprocate. I think I made it pretty clear that we’re just hooking up and even asked him if he’s going on dates and that I want to find love . He on the other hand used to say he’s not looking for a relationship.
I wanted just sex but I fell for him over time.
For the past month or so he started to become distant and ignoring me. I asked him to hang out twice told him I miss him but he was lying that he had to work but he’d love to get together , basically leading me on.
I finally confronted him and texted whats the deal , told him that I really like him and enjoy being with him and asked him on a real date, and he finally confessed that he’s back with his ex and that he really likes me but that’s what it is. He texted that he’s so uncomfortable but he can’t help it as he still has feelings for her. (He used to say she was kinda crazy and that left her a few times before due to her personality and she begged to take her back , they are on and off for two years )
And then he started to bulshit me about how he’s so unhappy and anxious about all this and is not even enjoying life (why he’s trying to seem miserable) and that he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen with her and he thinks it’s a mistake , telling me that he’s not a bad person and asking me not to hate him ,blah blah blah.
I said I’m not angry and told him I fell in love with him and even said I can give him more than her ( I know it’s stupid of me and needy but it was in a moment ). He said please try to forget me but said don’t disappear .
The last time we met was a month before all this conversation, he was already distancing but still took me to a party introduced to everyone , I kissed him in front of people and was affectionate acting as we are together, now I realize that perhaps he was already back with her at that time. I feel I made a complete fool of myself at the party .
After that party he stopped texting but kept liking and wowing all my pictures in social media like nothing happened. I deleted him from all social platforms four months ago and we haven’t spoken since. About a few weeks ago I’ve learned thar he split from his ex again.
TL;DR: I fell for my FWB but he lied to me and went back to his on and off ex . I removed him from my social media and cut all contact, we haven’t talked in over four months, I found out he “ stalks” my Instagram as he watched my story , he’s not following me anymore as I deleted him meaning he had to go to my page . I don’t know if he watched it by accident while scrolling through my page or if it was intentional. Why he’s curious to see my life if he’s not interested in me. Should I block him or just leave it alone?
submitted by MarieAnn6783 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:16 orange-queen [F4A playing M] Long Term Partner Wanted.

Hi there! I’m 23, Central Standard Timezone, and female!
Partner requirements: must be 20 to 28 years old - Must play male - write in third person - 2+ paragraphs - NO smut - must be able to post a few times a week, preferably a few times a day - good grammar and punctuation - Discord only. - Message me with your age, timezone, and a sample of your writing if you’re interested! I will NOT answer messages that just say hey, hi, hello, or ask if I’m still looking.
I’m also interested/have ideas in/for things such as Superheroes, witches, vampires, Vikings, and other things. Here’s a whole list of roleplays I currently have plots for:
The Selection: Basically a slightly futuristic twist on the BacheloBachelorette. One prince or princess comes of age and must go through an event called The Selection where they must find love from a specific amount of contestants.
Royal Mistake: a prince or princess from another country comes to America for school under a disguise and fake name, and falls for a regular American commoner.. It calls for big scandals if anyone finds out who the noble in disguise really is.
Fake Fiancée: Y/C and his fiancée have recently called things off. There’s only one real problem to this... He was supposed to bring her to meet the family at a huge family reunion/wedding/event of your choice. He resorts to calling M/C his college best friend or his best friend’s slightly younger sister, maybe they’re twins, idk.
Fandoms: we can discuss Avatar the Last Airbender, Disney Descendants, Percy Jackson, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc. Really hoping to find someone to play Draco or a Draco like OC against my OC! I do not double, sorry.
The Contract: two top young rising celebrities don’t get along at all, for various reasons. What happens when their managers go behind their backs and set the two up on a date? Forcing them to sign a six month contract , claiming to be a couple in the public eye.
The Wolves: Many years ago a young girl was attacked by a pack of wolves in a place where wolves aren’t common. A twist on your cliche werewolf story.
The Vlog: Nothing too crazy is planned out yet. Thinking something along the lines of vloggers/youtubers.
submitted by orange-queen to WrittenRoleplay [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:16 orange-queen [F4A playing M] Long Term Partner Wanted.

Hi there! I’m 23, Central Standard Timezone, and female!
Partner requirements: must be 20 to 28 years old - Must play male - write in third person - 2+ paragraphs - NO smut - must be able to post a few times a week, preferably a few times a day - good grammar and punctuation - Discord only. - Message me with your age, timezone, and a sample of your writing if you’re interested! I will NOT answer messages that just say hey, hi, hello, or ask if I’m still looking.
I’m also interested/have ideas in/for things such as Superheroes, witches, vampires, Vikings, and other things. Here’s a whole list of roleplays I currently have plots for:
The Selection: Basically a slightly futuristic twist on the BacheloBachelorette. One prince or princess comes of age and must go through an event called The Selection where they must find love from a specific amount of contestants.
Royal Mistake: a prince or princess from another country comes to America for school under a disguise and fake name, and falls for a regular American commoner.. It calls for big scandals if anyone finds out who the noble in disguise really is.
Fake Fiancée: Y/C and his fiancée have recently called things off. There’s only one real problem to this... He was supposed to bring her to meet the family at a huge family reunion/wedding/event of your choice. He resorts to calling M/C his college best friend or his best friend’s slightly younger sister, maybe they’re twins, idk.
Fandoms: we can discuss Avatar the Last Airbender, Disney Descendants, Percy Jackson, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc. Really hoping to find someone to play Draco or a Draco like OC against my OC! I do not double, sorry.
The Contract: two top young rising celebrities don’t get along at all, for various reasons. What happens when their managers go behind their backs and set the two up on a date? Forcing them to sign a six month contract , claiming to be a couple in the public eye.
The Wolves: Many years ago a young girl was attacked by a pack of wolves in a place where wolves aren’t common. A twist on your cliche werewolf story.
The Vlog: Nothing too crazy is planned out yet. Thinking something along the lines of vloggers/youtubers.
submitted by orange-queen to roleplaying [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:15 arlen1997 A server for finding friends in by meeting new people and hopefully making lasting friendships. Let's get to know each other. Let's create a community of friends, you guys! The server is just starting out. Wanna help us grow it?

A server for finding friends in by meeting new people and hopefully making lasting friendships. Let's get to know each other. Let's create a community of friends, you guys! The server is just starting out. Wanna help us grow it? You can advertise anything of yours in this server, too, just not another server. Get the birthday role and announcement on that day if you register your birth date (month and date) with the bot. We have Dank Memer, Mudae, PokeMeow, Idle Miner, Karuta, OwO and EPIC RPG.
https://discord.gg/6dWvhueyQg
submitted by arlen1997 to AdvertiseYourServer [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:15 thatswhatudobaybee Girlfriend acts like she is walking on eggshells around me?

Hi guys,
I've been dating my gf for 1.5 years now and I have this problem I want to get some perspective on.
Context first -- my gf has anxiety and worries about things. This includes me and my reactions to things.
So this morning she failed to show up for something we planned to do together because she slept in. This naturally annoyed me but hey, people sleep in -- it happens. I sent her a message saying that I assumed she was sleeping in and I was a bit disappointed.
She responds 2 hours later saying that she has actually been awake for about 2 hours when she received my message but didn't open the message as she was 'nervous to open the message'. She basically avoided the conversation because she 'doesn't like disappointing me' and it gets her worried.
Maybe it's my own anxiety caused by this, but this makes me worried I am somehow creating an atmosphere of walking on eggshells around her. I mentioned this worry to her in the conversation and she said I am not doing that, and that I am lovely. That it is her anxiety.
She has done this multiple times in the past, this isn't an isolated incident. She has on multiple occasions avoided conversations for hours because it makes her worried. In one incident, she took too much cocaine on New Years Eve which we were meant to spend together and around 11.30 I was messaging her asking where she was she didn't respond.
After the fireworks at 12am happened, I voiced how I was upset at her for essentially disappearing on NY as it was meant to be special and we discussed hanging out. She later said she saw my messages but got worried about how I would react and decided not to message me until 6am and continued doing coke and partying with other people. She would rather avoid the conversation and have me hanging in limbo waiting for her to respond because her anxiety has dictated it's bad to talk to me when I am annoyed at her for doing something clearly upsetting.
I mentioned that I have seen this pattern but she says 'can we please not argue' and that she 'doesn't have the time or energy' to argue. Seems like a cop-out to me.
Advice please?
submitted by thatswhatudobaybee to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:14 dianaesinclair These are some super thick Marley twists done by me! One of my favorite hairstyles to date

These are some super thick Marley twists done by me! One of my favorite hairstyles to date submitted by dianaesinclair to BlackHair [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:13 Rough-Ridin-Trex In the Doghouse

The only sound came from clanking plates and silverware as we cleaned up our Thanksgiving meal.
It's always a little awkward around Thanksgiving, especially at grandma's -- my grandfather passed two years ago to the day the one time we decided not to spend it at her house. When she needed my mom, her daughter, most she wasn't there. Understandably we hadn't heard from her in some time until a few months ago around August. My mom got a phone call at work from grammy. She wanted us there this Thanksgiving.
"It's been a rough year, there's enough resentment going around already..." She trailed off mumbling something about politics, "I think it's time we bury the axe." My mom came home in tears telling us our grammy was back and we'd be going there for Thanksgiving so don't make any other plans. She was so excited she gave me an early Christmas present: a puppy. Every young man in the family had a puppy of their own around their 15th birthday, and I was to be no exception but I didn't expect it so soon.
"It'll do your grammy some good to see the tradition's still alive." She said, smiling through rivers of tears. It wasn't doing any good now, though, as we all cleaned up in silence. Nobody said anything, not since the awkward hugs and cheek pinching that came with greeting a grandma. Something about it felt empty, though, like she didn't really care about us. It didn't sit right. Rudy, the puppy, sat on the floor gnawing on a turkey bone.
"Enjoying that?" Said mom trying to break the silence.
"He sure seems to be. Enjoying that?" Said my little sister, Mary. She was 7 and everything she did was an emulation of the elders in the room.
"Why do you always do that?" Said Michael, our brother. Michael was 12 and just starting to come into his own. He was big for his age and hauled the whole stack of plates from the table in one hand with the leftover turkey (and suffing) in the other just to show off.
"Do what?" Asked Mary.
"Copy what they say." Said Michael.
"Better than giving each other the cold shoulder." I muttered.
"Peter!" My mom's voice came down like a hammer. The silence had broken like thin ice under a rock now.
"It's alright." Said grammy, interjecting, "Kids are more perceptive than we think. Maybe I'm not...not ready to forgive but I didn't want to be alone again this Thanksgiving. I'm grateful you all came --"
"Then act like it!" Said my mom, slamming down the pot in the sink, "I can't take this anymore. You know something about dad, it's not like you lost a good husband. How many mistresses did he have? Tell me, mom? Just How Many?" The silence returned again as the realization set in that my mother had blown up this Thanksgiving. My grandma for all her flaws kept composure. She got quiet, looked down and said nothing.
"Can't you just appreciate what you do still have instead of what you lost?" She sneered. Her eyes began to water. She turned to me, "Put that dog outside in the doghouse before you go to bed!" And stormed off. I dared not respond, but looked to Michael when she left.
"There's no way I'm putting him outside in the doghouse alone on Thanksgiving..." I said. We got an unexpected chuckle out of grammy who was wiping her eyes,
"You know I made your grandfather sleep in that doghouse when I found out he had an affair. He had a dog too -- Rodger named it Rodger Junior, not too inventive. I'm sorry you kids have to hear all this. I'll talk to your mother in the morning. Why don't you go to bed and let me finish cleaning up?"
We did just that and left her to her devices.
Our room had two beds and a sofa to sleep on. Mary being the smallest took the sofa while Michael got the bed just under the window. I decided I'd sleep by the door with Rudy. We laid there quiet, Michael tossing and turning and Mary playing with her hair. I could tell everyone was thinking about earlier when Mary decided to remove any doubts.
"Do you think grammy loves mom?" She asked.
"Of course she does. Why even ask?" Said Michael, "We wouldn't be here if she didn't."
"What about you, Pety? What do you think?" Asked Mary. I grumbled. I wasn't sure. Rudy whined and licked my hand. I pet him, trying to feign sleep.
"I can see you moving." Said Michael. Darn.
"I'm not sure..." I said, "Maybe." That's when Michael cut in,
"Maybe grammy's just scared she doesn't have much time left, either. You know you go to hell if you live in anger, right?" Michael had a way of pissing everyone off.
"Shut up Michael." I said.
"Or what?" He replied. I sat up. I was still the bigger brother.
"Shut. Up." I said. Mary sat up and drove the point home.
"Shut. Up." Michael did shut up. And after a while, we all went to sleep.
I woke up at whatever o'clock it was in the morning. I tried to sleep but I couldn't -- I had to go to the bathroom and it was so bad it hurt to roll over so I got up with a groan. Michael and Mary were out cold. I made my way to the bathroom, did my business and was on my way back to my room when I caught muffled talking from down the hall. It was coming from my mom's room. I snuck over and listed in, careful to avoid the third floorboards down the hall (they squeaked loudest). They were talking about dinner, about my grandpa and I heard it clear as day,
"I forgive you, I love you." Grandma gave mom a hug. Honestly? I'd never smiled so hard before. It finally felt like things were coming together, becoming normal. From behind me I heard something else though, a huff, like someone was dissatisfied. Then I heard the clicking of claws on the hardwood floor, the kind a dog makes when it wanders off. I followed after them before calling out to Rudy. I caught a glimpse of him heading down the stairwell and across the landing in front of the front door, the pale glow of streetlights illuminated his figure.
"Rudy!" I whispered. He was probably on the hunt for some turkey. I chased after him, following the sound of footfalls on the floor.
I got to the bottom of the stairs and rounded the bannister. There was a hallway that opened (on the left) into the living room and at the end of it was the kitchen which in this old house had a door instead of an open-air archway. Either side was white wood paneling, the theme of the time it was built. I could hear Rudy in there pacing so I crept over to the door, whispering his name.
When I popped open the kitchen door, Rudy was just sitting there in front of the back entrance. The kitchen was the only modernized part of the house (having been remodeled) and had a marble island in the center surrounded by stools with a nice slate grey fridge on the far end and a whole wall of windows that led up to the glass panel doors to the patio outside. I could see because of course there was backlights from the neighbors and another street behind the house.
I could see Rudy's silhouette pacing at the door, his head sunk low to the ground like he was guilty.
"Got you, huh?" I said. Rudy stopped midway through his back and forth motion and cocked his head at me. That's when I felt a little sensation of tiny bugs like centipedes crawling up my back. Instincts were telling me something was off but it didn't register...yet.
"What's the matter?" I said, "I'm game if you are. I'll take some pie, you take some turkey, win-win. Just don't tell." I smiled in the dark but it wasn't a genuine smile. Something in me was forcing a smile as if to appear less threatening to the dog. I noticed too that the reflection in his eyes (the kind dogs and cats get when a light hits them) was a dull yellow color and that the eyes were wide open. Wide open, like on alert and afraid. But there was something else in those eyes, too. Curiosity? As if Rudy knew he'd been caught but was waiting to see what (if anything) I might do about it.
He put his foot down and that's when I realized something was very wrong. It made a sound similar to when a hand claps against tile, or wood or any hard surface. It had the click of claws, but that clapping sound was way off. I was shaking. I walked to the fridge. Rudy, or what I was starting to think was very much not Rudy, did not move but followed me with his eyes across the room.
I opened the fridge, knowing full well that the light would illuminate whatever was behind me and reveal if I was just seeing things or not. Then came the breathing, the low (almost inaudible) wheezing breath drawn in with every step I took toward the fridge.
"J-just one second b-buddy..." I said stepping slowly. Every time I felt my foot hit the cold, hard tile I heard that same click clap of one of it's hands come down.
Step.
Click Clap.
I took a breath, it let out a wheeze.
Step.
Click clap.
Breath.
Wheeze.
It felt like there was an eternity between me and that refrigerator. I lived ten lives in the time it took me to get there and put my clammy, sweat-soaked hand on the handle to pull it open. My arm felt like lead. The wheezing was so close I could almost feel the breath coming out of its mouth against the back of my legs, and it was cold not warm. I opened the fridge and took out the pie, sliding it across the counter. I took out a piece of turkey and turned around letting the door swing shut behind me.
In the last crease of light I got a glimpse -- enough for the rest of my life -- of whatever was behind me:
It was covered in long, shaggy black and grey fur like you might expect out of a bearded collie, but it didn't cover the entire thing. It stopped at the front paws, which were veiny and not really paws at all but more like the hands of a person. Hands that were gnarled, cracked and worn out from being used to walk in a very unnatural way for their owner. It's body had an odd shape, too. The shoulders stuck out like a man's, broadly at that, and it squatted down on all fours like a person playing at being a dog. It's eyes were fixed much closer together and forward than a dog's, like a person's eyes, but it's snout was long and rounded like a dog. It's head hung down low too, probably because it's shoulders weren't quite right, and it hooked up so the face wasn't pointed at the ground. It had something of a serpentine neck, which is probably why it hissed and wheezed when it tried to breath.
I threw the turkey on the floor and it lowered its head. It made slurping sounds while it lapped it up. I tried to shimmy by but once it finished it fixed it's eyes on me again, at least in the dark I could feel it looking at me, so I froze.
"I'm going back to bed..." I said, smiling in terror in the dark. Then I heard a voice from the doorway, "Get outside!" Said my grandma. I was stunned, sweat running down my cheeks and my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. I turned around and saw her there looming in the doorway. I heard the sound of the thing move across the floor and the sound of the back door opening. When I turned around it was gone.
"It's nothing to worry about." Said grammy, "He's just curious. He misses you in his own way." She said, walking to the door. She motioned to something outside, pointing. I presumed it was the doghouse. "I made him sleep out there with the dog, you know, when I found out about his mistresses. This is the third year he's come back and I guess I didn't want to end up like him, unforgiven. Living out in the dog house." She smiled, a smile devoid of real happiness but not empty. It was full of pain, of anger and something else...she was enjoying this. I said goodnight and went to bed, but I didn't sleep much.
In the morning we left, my grandma gave me a hug and a wink and sent us on our way. I asked mom if we'd ever come back for Thanksgiving,
"I enjoyed it." I said, but the words were hollow.
"No, I don't think we need to anymore." Said my mom. My grandma passed a few months later and to date we haven't seen any of her since. The house she lived in was sold at auction. All I can say is that I will never hold a grudge and it's better to forgive than to live out in the dog house.
submitted by Rough-Ridin-Trex to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:13 Eric_Cartman69 Can we just take a moment to discuss the season 1 timeline

In episode 13 ‘Sectionals’, Sue tells Figgins and Will that she has to be in Albuquerque in two weeks for the Cheerios’ nationals.
In episode 21, the Cheerios go to nationals. There was apparently only two weeks in between those eight episodes.
Quinn’s due date for the baby was supposed to be before Spring Break (as mentioned by Kendra) and she gave birth a few weeks before that. That means that ‘Journey to Regionals’ took place in early March.
The episode ends with Will telling them to enjoy their summer. Apparently they jumped forward at least three months into the future.
I know that they wrote the first half of the season without knowing that the show would blow up like it did, but come on. These are just blatant mistakes.
Comment if there are any other time inconsistencies you noticed throughout the show (like the ‘Acafellas’ episode taking place over almost a month).
submitted by Eric_Cartman69 to glee [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:12 KhosrowZAF My girlfriend is no longer in love with me.

My (25m) girlfriend (26f) and I have been dating for over 4 years. We have had a committed relationship and have had many wonderful experiences. We always thought we would be open to experimenting with others within our relationship but this remained theoretical until our third year of the relationship. We had an ongoing experience with another girl for a while and after it ended we both felt our relationship was stronger than ever. My girlfriend told me she wanted to experiment with other guys as she has never been with another guy and wanted to try it. I saw this as only fair as dating the first person we dated was more my choice. My girlfriend has always dealt with social anxiety and it takes her a long time to get comfortable with someone, so she thought if she were to have sex with another guy it would have to be someone she could trust and knows really well. She had been over the years getting close to one of my friends who she has tons in common in terms of interests. She expressed that she was interested in him and that she felt she could trust him. From the very beginning of us talking about our relationship being open we said for both of us emotional connection and a romantic relationship with someone else was a redline and we would only commit to one another in that way. I voiced some concerns saying that him being a very close friend (her only true friend outside of our relationship according to her) could make it more than sex and be complicated. I did not however put my foot down and said that I was happy for her to make a decision and that I understood how difficult it would be for her to feel comfortable enough to have sex with someone she doesn’t know well. After propositioning to him, and him considering it for a while he decided that it would not work for him whilst we are dating. After this though they started to text more and more (as friends, mostly about films and art) and my friend completely has cut me off, not wanting me around when talking to my girlfriend. Now over this whole time specially in the last year of our relationship i have been getting less and less attention, physical affection and intimacy from our relationship and always feel like I was putting in more than I was getting. Until very recently I saw myself going the long distance, house, kids, marriage etc.. My girlfriend unknowingly I believe would say that she doesn’t understand what I’m complaining about and she doesn’t see a difference. This felt a lot like being gaslighted. Until recently, coinciding with her talking more and more to my “friend”, she hadn’t fully realised what it was that she was feeling and through many painful discussions we eventually got to the point of her admiring to me and herself that she no longer loves me the same way. She took a couple of days to talk to her parents saying that she didn’t want to continue hurting me so was considering ending things then, I at this point felt that we had to work on it more and it was too early to give up. She decided to take things slow and not rush into a break up (however the fact that she was considering it was the first heartbreak for me and a loss of trust). Since we have been living with this reality she has continued talking to her friend texting on an hourly basis and every weekend. Today I confronted her more directly as opposed to dropping hints and said that I feel she is practically in a relationship with him and not me. And this if this is to continue we may as well break up. I told her that we either have to get serious about focusing on our relationship or the alternative is not to be together as being in this was more hurtful than a breakup.
My partner has been dealing with depression due to her issues with her work and being In the house since March as she has been working from home due to the pandemic so I have not really pushed for direct work on us and let her deal with her problems and offer support. I have now however come to the point where resentment is building up for me and I feel worse by the day. I love her very much But it feels like it’s starting to hurt me a lot. we are not in a the best position to get professional help but I don’t want to end things without trying that. After my latest confrontation, she seems to be on the same page, however far more hopeless in a successful future. I am very conflicted and this is all happening at a very bad time as I’m trying for a new job and in the middle of interview process. I feel demotivated about the future and feel myself slipping into depression.
submitted by KhosrowZAF to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:12 Lizziekat1 Boyfriend (18) One Month and Christmas

My boyfriend and I will have been dating for one month on Christmas. He insists on buying me something, so I need ideas for him. His favorite animals are zebras and penguins. He plays piano, but he plays by ear and I don't think he would have a use for any sheet music. His favorite color is orange. He works in a popsicle factory. He's 6'6, so I'm not sure about clothing. He's a very warm person, so I don't think blankets or anything warm like that would work. I'm at a loss, so any ideas would be appreciated.
submitted by Lizziekat1 to GiftIdeas [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:11 baandardon Being a single man is making me dislike women

I (British 22M) came out of a three-year relationship back in May.
I am of (slightly above) average height, with an average body and face. I am well-groomed and well-dressed. I’m almost a doctor and take pride in my bedside manner. You’ll have to take my word for it, but my hobbies are also of a high-standard (they make me money).
In other words, I’m a well-groomed man with an excellent career path, impressive skills and reasonable people skills. My only “drawback”, at least from what I can tell, is that I’m middle-eastern.
And yet, I feel invisible to women.
I’m really struggling to land dates. I’ve never got one from a meeting IRL, and although I was somewhat successful with Hinge in September, I’m struggling now. A lot of girls match and then don’t reply, or reply very slowly — as if they’re just matching me out of pity. I’ve now been on Bumble for two days and had two expired matches.
I’m not an idiot going for extremely good-looking women out of my league, either. I’ve been successful with women in the past, I have plenty of female friends, and I’m putting in effort. I approached a girl who smiled at me in the library the other day, and we had a decent conversation where she went out of her way to show me her work. She ignored the text message I sent her afterwards, though.
Basically, I hate that I’m a decent quality man getting rejected and ignored by women on a much worse career path, with lower aspirations and lacking skills.
I feel like I deserve better, and that women look down on me unfairly. I also know that if I ever say this out loud, it will validate their opinion.
Essentially, I’m not a man to them — in their eyes, I’m not a sexual being who can meet their emotional needs sufficiently. Walking around campus now, I deeply dislike every woman I see.
submitted by baandardon to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:10 orange-queen [F4A playing M] Long Term Partner Wanted.

Hi there! I’m 23, Central Standard Timezone, and female!
Partner requirements: must be 20 to 28 years old - Must play male - write in third person - 2+ paragraphs - NO smut - must be able to post a few times a week, preferably a few times a day - good grammar and punctuation - Discord only. - Message me with your age, timezone, and a sample of your writing if you’re interested! I will NOT answer messages that just say hey, hi, hello, or ask if I’m still looking.
I’m also interested/have ideas in/for things such as Superheroes, witches, vampires, Vikings, and other things. Here’s a whole list of roleplays I currently have plots for:
The Selection: Basically a slightly futuristic twist on the BacheloBachelorette. One prince or princess comes of age and must go through an event called The Selection where they must find love from a specific amount of contestants.
Royal Mistake: a prince or princess from another country comes to America for school under a disguise and fake name, and falls for a regular American commoner.. It calls for big scandals if anyone finds out who the noble in disguise really is.
Fake Fiancée: Y/C and his fiancée have recently called things off. There’s only one real problem to this... He was supposed to bring her to meet the family at a huge family reunion/wedding/event of your choice. He resorts to calling M/C his college best friend or his best friend’s slightly younger sister, maybe they’re twins, idk.
Fandoms: we can discuss Avatar the Last Airbender, Disney Descendants, Percy Jackson, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc. Really hoping to find someone to play Draco or a Draco like OC against my OC! I do not double, sorry.
The Contract: two top young rising celebrities don’t get along at all, for various reasons. What happens when their managers go behind their backs and set the two up on a date? Forcing them to sign a six month contract , claiming to be a couple in the public eye.
The Wolves: Many years ago a young girl was attacked by a pack of wolves in a place where wolves aren’t common. A twist on your cliche werewolf story.
The Vlog: Nothing too crazy is planned out yet. Thinking something along the lines of vloggers/youtubers.
submitted by orange-queen to RoleplayPartnerSearch [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:09 cheaptissueburlap MSNVF financials release, uplisting to otcqb already announced

MSNVF financials release, uplisting to otcqb already announced
PS: not avaible on Robinhood yet
Mission Ready serves to prevent injuries and enhance the performance of military personnel, first-responders and all those serving on the front lines by equipping them with the next generation of personal protective equipment (“PPE”). Mission Ready Solutions Inc specializes in providing personal protective solutions to the global defense, security and first-responder markets as a product manufacturer and an experienced government contractor. Mission Ready leverages its privileged access to valuable federal procurement vehicles including the Special Operational Equipment (“SOE”) Tailored Logistics Support (“TLS”) contract administered by the United States (“US”) Defense Logistics Agency (“DLA”). Additionally, Mission Ready is an incumbent awardee of Multiple Award Schedule (“MAS”) contracts administered by the US General Services Administration (“GSA”).
contracts
  • government contractsIn September 2020, Mission Ready announced that, through its wholly-owned subsidiary, Unifire, Inc., the Company was awarded a total of 7 government contracts – for personal protective equipment consisting of disposable level 2 and level 3 isolation gowns (the “Isolation Gowns”) – with an estimated value of $127,878,307 and a maximum value of $435,723,020 (the “C&T Contracts”) to be fulfilled over a 12-month period.
  • Master Services Agreement with Leading Transportation Company
(THIS IS LYFT BUT ITS ASECRET) In June 2020, the Company announced that it had signed a one-year Master Services Agreement, dated May 31, 2020, with a leading transportation company (“PartnerCo.”) based in San Francisco, California whereby the Company will manage the sale of personal protective equipment and cleaning supplies (“Goods”) to drivers (“the “Program”). The Goods will be competitively priced at PartnerCo’s negotiated pricing with no additional PartnerCo markup. The Goods will be shipped directly to the drivers through Mission Ready’s distribution network. To start, a set selection of products will be available, including face masks (disposable and reusable) and disinfectants (sprays, packets and hand gels) – with additional products to be added based on driver demand and supplier availability.
  • CAD $24 Million FEMA Contract Award
In May 2020, the Company announced that, further to its news release dated April 28, 2020, the Company had received a CAD $24,000,000 (twenty-four million) contract award (“Contract Award”) from the US Department of Homeland Security (“DHS”) Federal Emergency Management Agency (“FEMA”) for the provision of personal protective equipment (“PPE”) to be delivered between May 12, 2020 and September 30, 2020. In addition to the CAD $24,000,000 awarded to Mission Ready, the Contract Award included an option, exercisable at FEMA’s discretion, for an additional CAD $12,000,000 (twelve million) to be awarded to Mission Ready no later than September 30, 2020 (the “Option”), for an aggregate potential contract value of up to CAD $36,000,000.
Financials
Results of Operations for the Nine MonthsEnded September 30, 2020 The Company’s gross revenues for the nine months were $62.44 million, an increase of $54.72 million from the $7.72 million realized in the same period in 2019, a 709% increase. This is a direct result of the closing of the acquisition of Unifire and reporting the revenues of Unifire from April 2019. The Company recorded a cost of goods sold of $56.90 million for the period ended September 30, 2020 compared to $6.45 million in 2019. The gross margin was 8.87% for the period. . The Company derives approximately 97% of its revenues from customers and clients where the end customer is the US Department of Defense, law enforcement or private security

https://preview.redd.it/zukppn3w6h261.png?width=770&format=png&auto=webp&s=dfa79b8d2ef46abad1d7b37830489200f472ce48
at this rate this company will be profitable next quarter
https://www.sedar.com/DisplayCompanyDocuments.do?lang=EN&issuerNo=00029644
TLDR: this company is on the road to success, about to uplist to otcqb from the pinks, between 150m- 500m in contract awarded. A deal with the FEMA, LYFT, US government, law enforcement, hospitals. Do your DD and you'll see.
submitted by cheaptissueburlap to smallstreetbets [link] [comments]


2020.12.01 02:08 god_queen_boo [FN] The Secret Tapes of Jack Forrester

“So, is it true?” Lia’s voice carried to me over my shoulder as I headed out the door of the lecture hall, backpack slung across one shoulder and a half-eaten apple in my hand. Dread filled me as I stopped with my back to her and my mouth full, trying to figure out how to answer.
I knew what “it” was, even though Lia hadn’t specified. It was the same “it” as always. It wasn’t that the question itself was so bad, or even the answer. It was that it always led to more questions, the same questions, all ending with the one they had really wanted to ask from the start. And that was the question I was dreading as she caught up to me, all smiling blue eyes and bouncing red curls.
I swallowed the half-chewed apple, feeling it stick uncomfortably in my throat as it went. “Is what true?” I stalled, beginning to walk towards the main door of the building. Lia fell into step beside me and we joined the herd of students moving out to the courtyard. She grinned, a look of excitement on her pretty face.
“Is your grandpa really Jack Forrester?” I sighed internally. Truthfully, I had been expecting her to ask for weeks now -- ever since I went over to her apartment to study for our philosophy midterm and found a shelf lined with Grandpa’s albums. He was a local legend and most of my family was very active in the town's musical community so she was bound to find out we were related sooner or later. Not seeing any way to avoid it, I answered her.
“Yes, it’s really true.” She immediately began squealing with excitement and I took advantage of the pause to finish my apple.
“Ohmygod I have so many questions! You probably don’t know this but he is one of my favourite musicians! I have every single one of his albums! It must have been so amazing to have such an incredible musical influence …” Lia trailed off as she took in my expression. She frowned, her mood immediately dampened, and I felt guilty for squashing her excitement.
“I’m sorry.” I sighed, tossing my apple core into a trash can as we passed through the first set of doors to outside. “It’s not that I don’t love him or want to talk about him, it’s just ... not that good of a story.”
“What does that mean?” Lia watched me curiously as we stepped out into the afternoon sun. The courtyard was bright and open with a large lawn in the centre, ringed with flagstone and dotted with benches and picnic tables. The pack of students exiting the building began to disperse and we followed the crowd, keeping left towards the main bus stop. I contemplated running through all the usual questions with her but decided that I would skip right to the part she really wanted to know.
“Grandpa Jack doesn’t play anymore.” She gaped at me, as expected.
“Never? Not even just for himself?” I shook my head at her question.
“Not even for himself. Don’t get me wrong - he still loves music. He taught my mother and sister how to play and he writes extensively, but he never plays anymore. I’ve only ever heard him in recordings. My mom heard him in-person a few times but she was so young she says it’s hard to remember.”
A crease appeared between Lia’s brows as she absorbed my words.
“But … why? He was so talented! They said he was the one of the best to ever play, that his music could make you *feel* things like no one else’s. Even the recordings are amazing - I can’t imagine how incredible it would be to hear live. They say he never played the same song twice! To think it hasn’t existed in almost sixty years is … heart-breaking.”
I nodded, sympathizing with her reaction. It was the same response for anyone who had heard Grandpa’s music – there was something about it that moved you in such a unique and inexplicable way that it made you immediately hungry for more. Like the sound was a drug, delivering concentrated emotion directly to your soul. To find out that the supply was limited, never to be expanded or renewed, brought a sense of desperate loss to most of his fans. It was probably why the legend of The Tapes had remained such a stubborn presence in the history of my grandfather’s musical career. Hell, even I had felt the same way once, before I had asked him myself and seen the pain in his eyes.
“I don’t really know. No one does. My mom says it’s heartbreak – after his wife died, the part of him that made that music died too. My uncle says it was just the stress of raising two kids alone while still mourning. That he just didn’t have time and eventually he lost the taste for it.” I shrugged, head down as I dug in my pocket for my bus pass. I felt a twinge of sadness as I thought about how my grandfather must have felt after receiving the news that his wife had been killed in a fatal car accident, leaving him the single father of a six-year old daughter and a two-year old son.
“What do you think?” Lia’s voice was soft, her expression curious. I thought back to when I was nine; watching Grandpa lean over Lyric, helping to place her tiny fingers on the piano keys.
My sister’s legs swung from the bench, sparkly blue shoes catching the sunlight. I sat on the couch opposite them, a juice box in one hand and a dark green pencil in the other.
Unlike my mother and sister, I had no interest in music. I took more after my father and preferred to draw rather than play. After months of torturous music lessons in my grandfather’s study, he had finally sat my mom down and told her that one musical child was enough. I was released from the hated lessons and now I got to eat snacks and draw instead of suffering through scales and songs.
“Grandpa, why don’t you play piano anymore?” I regretted the question immediately as I watched a flicker of pain pass over Grandpa’s face. He was silent for a moment, seeming to consider my question. Lyric and I were quiet too, waiting for him to speak.
“I loved playing very much. But it took me away from things and it took things away from me. When your Grandma died, I realized that it took too much. So now I teach. I pass on my knowledge so that something pure and new can be born. Now I give something without losing something.”
I blinked and turned my eyes back to Lia, standing next to me under the shelter. The bus stop was crowded; students pushing against each other to get into already-packed buses, the smell of exhaust heavy in the air. I shrugged and she leaned in to hear me over the cacophony of the platform.
“I think that after his wife died, he decided to go in a different direction. We don’t push him on it out of respect, but I can guarantee you there’s no secret tapes. No extra recordings or unreleased songs. If you want to hear his music, it’s going to be through other people.”
Lia’s disappointment was palpable as I destroyed the last of her hopes in the rumours that circulated online. The Secret Tapes of Jack Forrester was a cult legend that insisted my grandfather had continued recording music all these years but no longer released it to the public. It was the most long-lived, but far from the only rumour about him. Some believed he had never really played to begin with and the refusal was just a way to protect his scam. Others swore he had sold his soul to the Devil to learn how to play and had stopped to keep the beast at bay. That was the problem with a local musical icon suddenly and mysteriously vowing never to play again – people talked until gossip became legend. And now in the age of the internet, they shared their crazy theory online.
I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I looked down at Lia. “Look, I’m sorry to dash your hopes like that. But the truth is that despite what you may have read online, he’s just a sweet old man who likes to teach music and leave the past where it lies. He used to be Jack Forrester but that was a long time ago. Now he’s just a composer and a grandpa of three.” I smiled ruefully at her and she returned it, though it was nowhere near as bright as when we began our walk.
“It’s okay, I probably shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that. I was just so excited! I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or sad.” I brushed off her apology with a wave of my hand, a light flush spreading across my cheeks. She smiled at me then leaned out of the shelter, scanning the line of buses pulling in.
“Well that’s me – number 77. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nodded and offered her a wave as she pushed out of the shelter. Elbowing her way across the platform, she scrambled up into the bus just as the doors shut. I stared out into the road long after it pulled away, my mind on my grandfather and his infamous past.
I was so distracted that I missed my bus pulling into the station and had to run and flag them down before they left without me. Panting slightly, I picked a seat in the middle of bus and dropped down next to the window, backpack flopped across my lap.
The bus ride home was uneventful and fifteen minutes later I was walking into the kitchen of my grandfather’s house. The narrow two-storey had stood there for almost a hundred years and my grandfather had been there for more than half of them.
Even though my mother lived twenty minutes away and visited three times a week, she worried about Grandpa being alone in the house. So, after my acceptance to our local college I had moved in with him. I hadn’t complained – Grandpa’s house was way closer to school and far quieter. Plus, I loved him. As the only male grandchild in the family, Grandpa and I had always shared a special bond. I was as happy to be there as he was to have me.
“Grandpa, I’m home!” I called out as I dropped my backpack down on the kitchen table. Grandpa’s steaming mug sat at his favorite spot, completely forgotten and rapidly cooling. I grinned and rolled my eyes, grabbing the drink and heading down to his music room, where I knew he would be.
He stood with his back to the door, rifling through an ancient music book. Its pages were yellowed with age and wear, infused with years of loving use. He hummed softly under his breath; the closest he ever came to singing nowadays. He looked up when he heard me knock against the door frame, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“Coda! I didn’t hear you come in. How was class?” He beamed at me from across the study and motioned for me to give him his mug. I rolled my eyes again and laughed, handing it over to him. He was always leaving his coffee cup in strange places. I would have worried if it hadn’t been happening for as long as I could remember.
Relaxing, I dropped down onto the weathered couch and lost myself in the familiar safety of Grandpa’s house.
~~~
A few weeks later I woke up thirsty and too hot, my clothes sticking to me uncomfortably. It was dark out and a quick glance at my phone confirmed it was 1 AM. I needed water desperately - like I’d eaten a whole bag of chips in my sleep.
Happy to feel the cool air on my skin, I kicked off the covers and stood up unsteadily, lumbering towards the hall. I opened my bedroom door and turned right, headed down the narrow staircase. The house was dark and still. I had heard Grandpa go to bed when I still studying and knew he wouldn’t be up for hours.
It was around the bottom step when I suddenly heard it. A soft, gentle sound with a distinct melody. I stopped in my tracks, thirst forgotten, and focused all my attention on listening. After a moment I realized it was a piano – coming from Grandpa’s music room.
In disbelief, I began to walk towards the sound. It was no song I had ever heard before and it was beautiful. As I got closer and the song became clearer, I felt a warmness within and my heart was filled with calm. The song made me think of the beach and I felt as relaxed as if I’d sat next to the ocean all day. By the time I got to the doorway, I swore I could feel sand under my feet, a soft breeze on my face.
That’s when I saw the impossible – Grandpa, sitting at his piano in the dimly lit room. His eyes were closed and an expression of bittersweet joy painted his face. He swayed in time with the music, his fingers hitting the keys without hesitation despite years of disuse.
This close to the music, to its source, my mind was filled with thoughts of a sunset on a tropical beach, the wind warm and the air salty. It felt strangely familiar to me, like a place I had been to with my family when I was twelve. We had visited Mexico for a family reunion and had stood on the beach to watch the sunset together the first night we arrived. The music reminded me of that memory, filling me with love and warmth even as I stared at my grandfather in shock. This wasn’t one of his old songs – this was something new, something I had never heard before. Something no one had ever heard before.
As the final notes of the song drifted off into the night, I stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak. Grandpa opened his eyes and his gaze found mine. He didn’t seem surprised or embarrassed to see me. He simply watched me with an unreadable expression in his ancient eyes. At length, he sighed and motioned me into the room as he had a thousand times before.
“Come in Coda, we need to talk.”
My movements felt stiff and jerky as I came to sit on the couch across from the piano, in the same spot I always chose. As I had every time before, I ran my hand over the worn cloth, feeling the softness under my palm. It brought back memories of years past, replaying in my mind as I waited to hear what he would say.
Grandpa stared down at the piano keys, his fingers brushing the smooth surface as gently as you’d stroke a beloved pet. His face was etched with sadness, his eyes lost to the past. For a moment I wasn’t sure he would say anything but then he spoke.
“Do you remember when you were a kid, how I told you that playing music took something from me?” I nodded, the echo of his voice whispering to me from long ago. He sighed.
“Well I meant that literally. Sixty-two years ago, I was a young man with a pregnant wife, no steady job, barely making ends meet. I could play music but while I was good, I had no prospects. I was playing gigs every night I could. I had the soul, the desire, but lacked that crucial last step between “good” and “great”. I wanted to provide for your grandmother and our unborn daughter, your mother, but we could barely afford food as it was, let alone with another mouth to feed. I was desperate and sad, filled with a crushing despair that I was failing the ones I loved most.” Grandpa sighed again, running his hand over what was left of his hair. He took a sip from a tumbler I hadn’t noticed before; crystal filled with amber liquid. Another unusual move – Grandpa didn’t drink anymore. He said it reminded him of bad decisions from long ago.
“I was drinking. Trying to numb the panic, the choking desperation, the pressure of failure that accompanied my every waking moment. One night, after a particularly nasty fight with your grandma, I took a walk down by the river and found myself following an old road. It was overgrown and hidden behind shrubbery, almost fully reclaimed by nature. I don’t know how long I walked but suddenly I became aware that it was quiet. Too quiet – the way it gets when a predator passes by. When all of nature holds it breath and waits for the scary thing to go away … and then I saw him. Leaning against a fence at the crossroads, smoking a cigarette. He was handsome, though its hard to recall his face. In the moment it was clear but the memory has always been … hazy. His eyes though - those have haunted me since that night. They were a deep red-orange that I knew was inhuman the moment I saw it.”
Another pause, another sip of whiskey as Grandpa collected his thoughts. Mine, on the other hand, were scattered beyond collection. What was he saying? The setup was too perfect – a tale as old as time. Was he trying to tell me the legend really was true? When had his mental health taken such a sudden turn?
“I know what you’re thinking.” He said, his fingers idly playing notes on the piano. “You think I’m senile now, that I’m confused about the past … but it’s the truth.” His eyes raised to mine, steady and lucid as I’d ever seen them. “I made a deal with the devil – though I knew it was a mistake even as I made it.”
Grandpa’s confession hung in the air as I grasped futilely for something to say. “So… what? The stories are true? You sold your soul for fame?” I laughed weakly, hoping to hear him say something, anything, that made sense. To my relief, he shook his head. It was short-lived though, as he corrected me.
“Not my soul. Something infinitely more precious and utterly irreplaceable. He said as much when he made me the offer. He promised my soul would remain intact, and that I would live to see myself successful, my wife and daughter cared for, and a son to carry on my name. And in exchange … something that I would not miss. Something of my choosing, precious and irreplaceable, but infinite in source.” An aura of bitter regret filled the air around him as he recounted the devil’s offer.
“I knew it was too good to be true, but I was drunk and desperate and more than half-mad and I … said yes. The next thing I knew, I was in my own bed. Your grandma woke me up with coffee and a message from the most prestigious club in town, inviting me to play that evening. I accepted of course, though I was filled with fear that I would fail. I didn’t feel any different since the deal had been struck and I had myself convinced it had all been a dream.” Grandpa’s head lifted, his eyes distant as he remembered that night long ago. There was an almost wistful look on his face now, though it was still tinged with the sadness that suffused the room.
“But it wasn’t a dream and when I sat down that night to play, I looked out into the crowd and saw a woman with eyes like those of my first love. And in that moment, as I remembered all the heartbreak that gaze had brought me, I felt a song growing in my soul. Though I had never written anything down, never composed the melody, never penned the words, I began to play. And as I did, I felt those memories of that first heartbreak flowing through me, becoming the music in a way I had always strived for but could never reach before. I felt her presence enter the room, brought to life through the keys of the piano, the tenor of my voice. So vibrant, so alive, so real. And as those last notes faded away, the memory of her did too. I felt our last moments together slipping away, taking with it the heartbreak that had been so palpable only moments ago. It was only then that I understood the price of the devil’s bargain. I could finally play the way I wanted to – to make people feel with my art the way I had always ached to – but at the price of the memory that birthed the music.” Grandpa lifted his whiskey to his lips as an expression of self-loathing crossed his wizened features.
“But Lord, the applause was thunderous and the recognition was instant – from that night on, I never struggled to pay the bills again. I turned down more gigs than I’d ever dreamed of. And like a fool, I convinced myself I didn’t need those memories anyway. After all, what was the memory of an old flame in exchange for greatness?” He laughed bitterly, chasing it with another swallow of whiskey. I sat frozen on the couch, wanting to deny his story but already half-convinced. Having heard his music in person, it held a ring of truth that couldn’t be denied.
He looked up at me and smiled sadly. “You’ve felt it, you know it’s true. That song I was just playing - it was the family trip to Mexico. That sunset on the first night, you remember. The effect is even stronger when you share the memories too.” I was speechless, unable to make a single sound. But Grandpa either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He went on with his story, as if now that he had begun to tell it, he could not stop.
“I had to make some adjustments to my act of course. I never played the same songs twice, I did more recordings and fewer live performances. But the restrictions only added to my appeal, my intrigue. People lapped it up and my “eccentricities” became associated with my “genius” and my fame grew and grew. Just like the devil had said, I was able to provide for your grandmother and mother. But my art was a greedy mistress. My memories were many, but the ones I was willing to lose were a much smaller number. I knew that even careful use couldn’t sustain my music forever. Slowly, I lost all of my past flames, my old loves and heartbreaks. My childhood memories – first kisses and sneaking out to meet girlfriends. Fights and friendships lost, guilt for mistakes long past – all of it went into my music. Drained from me, lost to me; only the emotion of the memory left behind as a song. Over time I got better at using them, at drawing the sentiment out and wringing the memory dry so I could make the most of what I was sacrificing. Even still, by the time your grandma got pregnant with your uncle I had nothing left – only memories I wanted to keep. But there was another life on the way, relying on me, and I couldn’t walk away … so I started chipping away at those memories too.”
He shook his head and I caught the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. “At first it was small things – doing the shopping with her, our morning coffee, stupid fights over nothing at all. Things that seemed replaceable or better off forgotten anyway. But eventually, more important memories began to creep in. Birthdays, dinners with friends or family members. I’ll keep the really important ones, I thought. After all, you want to remember your first kiss, maybe even your second or third, but do you really need the thirtieth? Do you need the fourteenth date you went on? Or the one dinner you had with your wife’s second cousin? Slowly, I began to forget things - things that your grandma remembered.”
He paused to take a sip of his drink, staring down into the liquid pensively. I was quiet, held prisoner by his tale. After a moment he spoke again, his voice rough with emotion.
“I was drinking heavily by then. The stress of the curse, my family, my fame - it was all so overwhelming. And when I drank, I wasn’t so careful with my precious memories … it’s hard to learn from mistakes you don’t remember. In a way, it’s worse. I wonder what memories I may have drained away in my reckless, inebriated state. But I’ll never know - they are forever lost to me.” His sadness was a tangible presence in the air and I felt choked by it, my throat tight with sorrow to see someone I loved in so much pain.
“Your grandma, she was worried about me. I had never been able to bring myself to tell her about the deal and I fought her on seeing doctors and resting more. We would argue before performances and I would leave, angry and anxious. Straight to the bar, to drink and play those memories away. A vicious, bitter cycle. And then one morning I was woken up by banging on the front door. I stumbled down still half-drunk, yelling at them to quiet down …. it was the police. They had come to tell me that your grandma had been in an accident. She was stopped in her car and someone hit her from behind, going far too fast. She was thrown free of the driver’s seat, right through the windshield – no seat belts back then. She died on impact. Massive head trauma, they told me. At least it was quick. Just like that, the woman I loved was gone. And I had traded away most of my memories of her.”
Grandpa was crying freely now, tears rolling down his face to land on the ivory of the piano, in the amber of his whiskey. “I vowed that day that I would never play again. The price was too high, my memories too precious. Like a miser, I have hoarded them all these years, refusing to use my “gift” and wishing desperately that I had been a smarter man in my youth. But now … I am ready to play again.”
“What changed your mind?” The sound of my own voice, strangled with sadness, seemed too loud in the quiet of the room. After the story he had just told me, I couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that I knew what he would say.
Grandpa’s gaze met mine, sadness and love radiating from the watery depths. “I’m dying, Coda. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week or next month, but soon. I am old and I have lived a long, full life. Now it is almost over and I want to share it with people like I did long ago, before I’m too far gone to play anymore.”
I tried to protest, to tell him that he had many good years left. He waved me off, clearly in no mood for my objections. “That brings me to the reason for this talk – I want you to help me. I want to record my songs, my memories. Help me distribute them, share them with people. I don’t know how much time I have but I want to make it count.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Tears streaked my face as I absorbed my grandfather’s request. “But … will you forget me? Or Lyric or Mom?” My voice shook, tears salty in my mouth.
“No, never!” Grandpa’s voice was sharp and I drew back in surprise. His face softened and he added “I will keep those memories safe. Those are just for me, to carry me to the Lord. But I have a lifetime of experience to share and a gift that has been a curse for far too long.”
I was silent as I sat and processed what he was saying, the task he was asking of me. And I knew that I could never refuse. It was his dying wish and after hearing his story, kept secret for all these years, it was clear that he needed it. Wiping my tears away on my sleeve, I nodded to him.
“Ok Grandpa, I’ll help you. I would be honoured to.”
~~~
The last few months of Jack Forrester’s life were spent in his home with his family. A few nights every week, we would go to his music room and record his songs, each one unique and perfect on the first try. I had tried to convince him to go to a studio but he insisted he would play in his room, in his house - “where the memories lived”. So, we invested in some fairly high-end recording equipment and barely a week after his late-night confession, he was playing once again.
I sat with him through it all, experiencing memories that spanned the range of human emotion – the product of a life well-lived. Anger, joy, love, fear, wonder, grief – all of it went into the music and away from the man who had spawned it. It is hard to explain how valuable it was for me to soak up that lifetime of knowledge, to hear and experience his memories. I learned more from those last few months than any education could ever give me.
As the memories left him, so too did the vibrancy and vitality his form had once held. What he had said was true – he was dying. But he kept his promise and even at the very end, he held my hand and called me by name. And in his eyes, I saw the same love and familiarity that had always been there.
Now, he has been gone for months and at last, I have completed his final wish. All his memories, recorded and uploaded where people will be able to hear them. The emotions of a lifetime, free to experience.
That is why I have written this story – to spread the word. The Secret Tapes of Jack Forrester are real, and he would want you to listen to them.
~~~
This story is my personal property and I do not consent for it to be shared, duplicated or used in any manner without my express permission.
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