Me, In November: What Do You Want For Xmas This Year?

Me, in November: What do you want for xmas this year?

Him: You don't make enough money to get me anything I'd want this year. Don't get me anything, seriously. Just do me a favour and save money.

Him, on December 24th: ... I don't see any presents with my name on them... Typical.

Me: ... But you said...

Him: You're so selfish. I really can't believe you. You don't deserve any of the things I got you. You're literally the worst.

All I can think of when I’m trying to add the bio is:  Hi, I’m broken.  Don’t make sudden movements when we’re in close proximity. I may lose my shit if we have sex. I will probably cry hard for no apparent reason.  In public.  And there’s a 60% chance I’ll ghost you without warning.  Oh and I like hiking, reading and food n shit.

I’ve just impulsively installed Tinder. Someone talk me out of this.

Ghosts

Driving in our his neighbourhood this evening. That tightness in my chest returned.  I held my breath when I drove past our his road.  

The neighbourhood is haunted.  Cursed.

I try to explain this to people. They say they understand, but they don't really get it.

“But you seem so put together.”

I’m not going to lie.  When I tell people that mentally I am a pile of disaster, there are plenty who are shocked.

It makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.  You all get to see that I am actually a human puddle, and not at all put together - so I laugh.

But it also puts more pressure on me to keep up the facade, because apparently it’s working.  And that is just exhausting.

To be fair, she opened the door for this conversation...

I'm currently calling out that woman I was doing a thing with in May for hurting me.

Who the fuck am I and what have I done with me?!