What’s cheating to you? 30F with 29M
We’ve been together for three years and I thought it was going great until I found he had been messaging an old girlfriend a few days ago he doesn’t seem to think it’s cheating! They haven’t been together for around 8 years and he says they weren’t fully together but I found love poems to her on his phone a year into our relationship. Just for context this guy doesn’t delete anything off his phone and we’ve been very open he can go on my phone and vice versa. I went on there a few days back and my gut instinct just told me to check his instagram and I seen there was a profile in requests and he hadn’t long sent a message to this girl.. tbh i didn’t think much of it and I didn’t click to see the message exchange as I thought I was in a honest relationship and I share everything with him and he would do the same. Fast forward to today he gave me his phone and I thought let me go back and check as curiosity got the better of me and he hasn’t mentioned anything of this girl… the whole chat was gone! So I simply questioned who he was speaking 2? was there anything I should know and he said nothing so then I confronted him on deleting chats he acted clueless asked what I knew I then told him he knows what I’m talking about so tell me the information he said it was a old friend and it was a quick catch up nothing more.. he’s down played the whole situation after a few hours I looked on her profile and finally realised who she actually was! And I’ve confronted him as he has lied and said it was a friend but Ive never wrote a love poems for any of my friends and I don’t want to get my friends in bed! As I don’t know what was said and I will never know now as I didn’t read the exchange I requested him to messaged her asking for the chat exchange to prove that he’s telling the truth as I expressed he’s broken my trust and I feel he has cheated! ( might be pregnancy hormones) he doesn’t think what he has done is a form of cheating and he thinks Reddit users well everyone would agree with him! He’s spun this back onto myself says I’m a nasty person etc I feel this is very toxic and I need him out of my space so any advice would be greatly appreciated. Is that a form of cheating? Or am I overreacting about the situation? How can I show him what he’s done is wrong?

Hi, I’ll read the book (or any other writing piece) you’re working on and give you my critiques on overall plot and its structure and development. I’ll also give you my notes on characters and their development. If you only have a few chapters written, I’ll read them and give you my notes on the things mentioned above.
Any genre is fine. Some of my favorite genres are sci-fi, adult fiction, the classics, YA, fantasy, “chick-lit”, and what I usually refer to as “slice of life fiction”. I like creepy books as well. I’m not the biggest fan of hardcore horror books, but I’ll still read them for you.
I love the art of storytelling. I watch a lot of movies, and I write about them. I also took a few courses in literary analysis in college, so I do have experience with criticism and analysis. I, of course, love to read. I’d say I’m not a total speed reader, but I can read relatively quickly. I also enjoy writing poetry and was doing that for a bit for money before chat gpt shut that down.
This goes without saying, but I will not share your work with anyone. It’s yours, and I’m not out here trying to take ideas. I’m only trying to help you shape it into the best version it can be and something that you’re completely satisfied with. I can also help you if you’re stuck and give you suggestions.
$5 for short stories, poems, 60 page books
$10 for books longer than 60 pages
If you can only do PayPal friends and family then I can do that, but I prefer Venmo. Thank you.

There is significant repetition of these numbers popping up in both Taylor and Matty's public works so I thought I would bring it up and see what you all think and if you have noticed other instances that I'm missing. Sorry in advanced for this being long, but there is a lot.
Let's start with the most well-known one: 13

• I think that even casual fans know that Taylor considers 13 her lucky number. Her birthday is 12/13/1989. She's had some significant milestones in her career surrounding the number 13 and she famously wrote 13 in marker on her hand during the Fearless era. She continues to reference this number in track listings - even TTPD is 31 tracks, so 13 transposed.
• the poem Stevie Nicks wrote for TTPD has two dates written on it: Aug 13, 2023 and Sept 13th 8:05pm. Obviously the 13th in both dates is interesting but if you start adding things up you will see these dates are very significant. The 8:05 will give you 8+5=13. There is more to these dates as well.
• In numerology, we often add numbers together to get a single digit. 1+3 = 4.

8's - The public announcement of Taylor and Matty's relationship came on 5/3/2023. 5+3 = 8...8 is the infinity symbol. - In the Eras Tour, the stage roomba makes an infinity sign during Down Bad. - In numerology, 8 also rules the planet Saturn. This brings to mind "love you to the moon and Saturn" but also, Taylor wears a Vivienne Westwood choker during her performance of But Daddy I Love Him (she has one in black and one in white), with the symbol of Saturn topped by a cross that looks very reminiscent of a king chesspiece: https://www.harrods.com/en-us/shopping/agate-crystal-messaline-choker-22340482?gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQjwxqayBhDFARIsAANWRnRG1PyYR_3UcHl3igFeRHsyBkMHMWPgAv6-vIx01S9r3lBHNEvlwg0aAqz4EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds - 4 is obviously half of 8 - 8+9 = 17 and 7+1 = 8 (as in 1989) - 2024 is said to be a year of 8's, because 2+2+4 = 8. There is other symbolism associated with this number but this post is already super long.
4's & 2's - The number 4 has been showing up a lot recently. Matty flashed the number 4 to the camera during a set while they were dating (couldn't find the video but if someone finds it, I will edit to add it). - Taylor has famously been flashing peace signs and even put a statue of a peace sign in her TTPD exhibit at The Grove. Thought to be an easter egg for the double album but she continued doing it after the albums release. - Obviously, 2 + 2 = 4. But 4 can also be broken down into two pairs of 1's. Twin flame numbers are 1111 (so 4), and 2222 (so 8) respectively. - Taylor & Matty are both fire signs. Twin flames are often described as mirroring each other.
3's - Graphically, a 3 is half of 8 (especially in certain fonts). - In ATPOIAM, episode 2, entitled Fame (, https://youtu.be/44ezfnnRE0k?si=YcLcKnJrPHWY-Yyc) Matty stuffs himself into a suitcase (a story long told about Taylor was that she stuffed herself in a suitcase to escaped the hordes of paparazzi and fans when leaving her apartment). The suitcase has the number 3 on it and the elevator goes to the 3rd floor (despite the next shot being on them outside of The Bowery hotel). I've stayed at the Bowery, the 3rd floor is not how you get outside, lol. - TaylorNation put out a promo video that was a mash up of 1989 era images, it featured a vault and it also featured a clip from the Bejeweled music video (which has other interesting references to things happening right now), but Taylor was pressing the button for the 3rd floor (not in the original video). Everyone thought this indicated a big surprise coming on 5/3/2024 (2 weeks after the TTPD release). Much clowning ensued, nothing happened...except Matty posted a cover of his song "All I Need To Hear" to his IG. - Bejeweled MV was released on 10/25/2022...10+25 = 53 and 5+3 = 8 OR 1 + 2 + 5 = 8. 222 is an angel number related to soul mates.
I'm sure that I didn't even write out half of the things I've noticed because this post is getting unweildy but if there are other numerology nerds and people who have noticed this repetition, please add your observations!
Edit to add: Matty's birthday! 04/08/1989 so 4's and 8's abound!

Dear D...
Before I met you, I always felt like there was something missing in my heart, ever since I was really young; there was something that no matter how much I tried to replace I could never succeed. The thoughts of this hole in my heart being existent for the rest of my life felt soothing eventually but also painful multiple times. I always felt like an outcast no matter how much I tried to fit in, no matter how close I got to my friends. When you came, all those thoughts, all those feelings got away...
When I first met you, my whole world turned upside down. The shock that flowed through felt electric, like I touched a generator that collects energy. I could feel your gaze penetrate mine and vice versa. Then we looked away and shortly aftet we persuaded each other. I was more vocal and direct, you were more quiet and stood close to me all the time. I was sensitive and tense, you were more detached and chill. The moments I talked to you felt like paradise, it felt like I was talking to a long lost friend, to a brother from an another lifetime. In our dreams the roles would be reversed all the time: I would become the quiet and cold one and you would be the sunshine boy filled with happiness and joy. And of course you were the hugger. The nerve.
I wanted to be in your presence all the time, but I was scared of the intensity as well. I could tell you were also scared of it, but everytime I was chasing, you were running. Everytime I was running you were chasing. We were never in the middle. We had different methods to cope with the connection, because we were never fully direct with each other. I would have panic attacks and cry on the corridors when no one was around and later listen to music that reminded me of you, wrote poems about you and started to draw you out of the back of my mind. It felt uncanny how much you looked just like in the drawings. You would deal with it by drinking and overthinking and later outright confess to me overnight, the last night we were together. Then we separated. I needed time to reflect, something I did for the sake of both of us. You felt hurt and I felt hurt, but we needed space. I needed space. I felt like I was too much for you, and you did not deserve me.
That is when I started to grow. To change, to try and stand up and live my life the way I used to. I thought I would go back to my heart having that hole again, and dealing with it like old times, again. But the hole was no longer there. Because you filled that place in my heart. You and only you. And the pain became more powerful. I hurt even more because the separation made me wish I was in your presence more, to just hold you and never let you go. To tell you that I love you back, but I knew you would not believe me. You would think I would only say it back out of pity, not honesty. Because you have your own demons in your head, your own voices that make you overthink. Those voices are louder then my own voice.
Then I learned about the connection. At first I left it at chance. I had moments when I was going back to you, and moments when I was leaving you. Eventually you came back, and hugged me and took a photo with me and your best friend. You asked me if things will be the same between us. I had no response. I wanted to go back to it, but I knew it would be wrong. You wanted me back but I knew you did not evolve properly. You missed me, the same I missed you if not more but as the more awakened one I had to push you away. I told you eventually that I love you back the same way you told me: through text. You denied it and thought that I was just messing with you. You stopped talking to me. I know I hurt you, but I wanted to let you know as well. I hurt you because I love you.
Months went by and I learned to not let my anger take the best of me. To not let our past define our future. I learned to love myself, use the energy you gave me, both good and bad and embrace it. You were the reflection of my shadow self, who wants to tell people sometimes to stopp bugging me and that wants to be alone sometimes and I was your shadow self, the part that you keep locked because you got hurt: the kind, loyal and naive side of you that I showcase on the outside. I kept running into you; twin flame numbers kept pestering me. Dreams kept influencing me. But I had to stay away. I could see in your eyes that you were expecting me to make a move sometimes, smile at me warmly and just stare. But you were also mirroring me; if I was away, you were also away. Then I came back to you and you felt like I was just talking to you out of pity. So you let your ego out on me again.
You cant fully grasp the connection and how this experience should transform you, not just make you feel better. That you should heal wounds, not use me as a distraction for your own pain. Our dreams were almost always manifested by you; they always appeared when I was thinking the least about you, and in them you always wanted to do something with me. You might had good intentions, but you were also taking away my energy. The energy that I would use to heal would be drained because you were taking part of it for yourself. Because you did not had your own energy to use. Because you dont want to use your own healing process and make your own energy. I learned to love myself and also to love my friends and the friendships I had with them and the blessing that comes with having such strong bonds. I learned what I want in a partner and how my life should be settled for here on out. But I know deep down that I wont love anyone as much as you. Its just not possible. They will have another place in my heart, another type of love, but no one could replace you and I know this is gonna be vice versa for you as well. From what I have seen you still did not hook up with anyone after I came in your life; for the record you ironically broke up with your girlfriend around the time I came in your life and were super curious whenever there was a girl I had a crush on.
And as much as I love you, I cant allow this. I have to block you out through every way possible. I cant force you to change for the better, but maybe if you dont have me or my energy to use, there could be a chance. We will also separate fully in a couple of weeks with me off to college and you in your last year of highschool. Maybe my full absence will help you grow, just like how I felt when I experienced the separation a year ago. Again, I hurt you because I love you. If you heal yourself you know you can find me. When you are healed just call me and I will answer. Until then you have to be put away from my mind and energy. I will be fine, I will live my life and enjoy my part of it. I will miss you every single day, but I will remind myself of how you are not healed and how you need this space for yourself. Even if this space will still make me wish to hold you in my arms, and hold you as tight as possible.
Goodbye D. Until we meet again, I hope you will have a great life ahead of you and I hope we will reunite eventually... when both of us are healed. If we dont then... I guess see you in the next lifetime.
I love you.

The only way to mend a broken heart is by allowing it to love again. Therefore I'm in search of a heart, that will beat alongside mine to the rhythm of love.
I'm Laura, 22F, from Transylvania, Romania. I work full time, am trilingual and quite tall ( 5'9 or 175cm). I have brown short hair and brown eyes. And I'm chubby. I have a bubbly personality, when I'm really happy, I'm full of energy and will sometimes act like a little kid. I'd say my humor is, all over the place, sometimes I'll make a dirty joke, another time I'll use some dark humor. I'm really spontaneous and flirty too.
What I'm into: - movies and shows, especially horror and scifi ( best horror movie of all time is the witch , best scifi movie is avatar),writing, mostly poems, psychology,mythology,true crime,music( Ava max, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, pitbull, alan Walker) ,a bit of gaming even tho I don't really play ( best game of all time GOW!!! ),animals, nature,skincare, fitness
What I'm looking for in a man: - be 19-26 -be from Europe preferably - be good at conversation/ not be dry - honest, loving - preferably be into fitness/ writing/ music - be okay with the distance and comfortable with calling later on!
If I piqued your interest don't hesitate to send me an introduction of yourself! Will send photo of myself if you do too. And don't worry, I don't bite 😄

I read a quote recently that said “if you want something be the type of person who has it.” So, for example, if you would like to receive love letters, be the type of person who writes them. If you would like to be invited to parties, be the type of person who hosts them, so on and so forth.
I’m trying, still, after two years to process the grief of losing you and to process the grief of all that was lost during our relationship, including pieces of my innocence and my dignity, pieces, I dare say, I will never be able to recover. You hurt me in the worst ways imaginable yet still I can’t hate you. I won’t. Everybody says that I should and that whatever love I have fantasized in my head towards you is merely the limerence that results from Stockholm Syndrome. An obsession one would hold towards a hateful caregiver in an infantilized state.
Though, I’m not so sure. I am loathe to believe the love I hold towards you is fetishized grief. I am hoping that by putting these letters out into the void I will gain some temporary relief from the pain of your absence, at the least, and at most I will begin to build a bridge over that dark and glowering moat of grief that has kept me tethered to the past, tethered to the abusive and turbulent relationship which left me with nothing but debt to be repaid by a wandering life of pain, misery, and an emptiness never to be filled by love in the same way.
Oh how I admired you, oh man of mine. How I wanted to grasp onto every word that came out of your mouth when you were discussing your ideas. How your poems, though a little prose-like and robotic, made me sink faster into the pit of infatuation. I was in love with you. Obsessed. I wish I could have recorded the sound of your voice when you talked about science. I wish I could have mended the pain of your abandonment in adolescence. I wish I could have been the support you needed even when you pushed me away and put me down. I wish I could have healed the parts of you that were so broken to make you believe that stealing from me would somehow fill your empty cup.
But you cut off the bottom of the glass and no amount of debauchery could ever leave you more full than you were before. No amount of purity stolen from me could mend the agony you had held onto for far too long.
I am still left wondering, now, without you even by my side to soothe the wounds you had inflicted, why you chose me to steal from? Was everything really as you said? Was I too unlovable for the mistakes I had made in the past? Hadn’t I more than atoned for them with everything you had put me through? Was I really someone you loathed, who you couldn’t rest easy with at night? Was I really such a burden because I was too nervous around the crowds you chose to surround us with at the nightclubs or too sheepish about my femininity to ever be as sexy as you wanted? Where is the line? What was real and what was fake? Was there anything you liked about me at all, or did you just enjoy the joy and admiration I had for you?
When will my lonely heart stop pining over someone who hates me? If you hated me so, why didn’t you simply leave? Why did you always persuade me back into staying with your sweet words and your grand gestures?
I would say I miss you, but to miss someone is to know them truly and be abashed by their absence. I don’t know you anymore so I can’t miss you. Did I ever know you?
Part of my life has come full circle and now I am starting to wonder if any of it was ever real? The memories are so fleeting and time has warped along with everything around it. I feel alone in this universe. Nothing feels real. Were we just a dream? A requiem for a nightmare? Did any of it ever happen? Why has it all just faded into a distant memory, seared like a firestone against the forefront of my subconscious?
How are you? Do you think this way too? Why did you hurt me so much that I had no choice but to leave? Was I really so reprehensible?
Or, was it you whom you hated for your inability to love someone who had given everything to be with you?
All I know is that I didn’t deserve to be discounted and discarded the way I was. I may never be able to recover some of the innocence I lost while we were in it, but my heart, with each passing day, still feels mightily pure. Your hatred did not win, and my love for you does not cease.
From M. To J.

I've been in a long term relationship before and my friends viewed it as a toxic one but I was blinded with love and viewed it as a passionate fiery type of love with so many ups and downs. However, we broke up and like many people, the breakup tore me to pieces and shattered me.
So recently I opened myself up to someone. And I know he loves me because not only does he say it, he proves it. But coming from my past trauma and experiences, there are times where I doubt his sincerity.
There are days though where I came to realize that he loves me more than I know. There are days where my requests to him are hard to do either because he's busy or there have been changes in the supposed plans etc.
In my past relationship, things like this makes my ex angry. We would fight over it and he will do his little pity party to sway me from my choices. Still, he will still do my requests but you can see and feel his reluctance. He will get mad at the little inconveniences and that will be the start of another argument.
I remember this feeling of being scared of meeting my present partner because it felt like he was mad during our conversation via chat. The feeling of wanting to run away from the confrontation is overwhelming me and I have rehearsed everything that I can say and explain to calm his angry self.
But you know what? The tense feeling subsided when I faced him. He was smiling at me and there was never any hint of anger, of annoyance, or of anything that I need to protect myself from. He was there in front of me so calm and at peace. All my defenses fell and I was left in shock, confused as to what I should say and feel. It was all new to me and it felt so different, it was different.
I never realized until then what a peaceful and calm love was. I never experienced not trying to defend myself from my partners. I was always putting up walls, hiding and keeping things to myself for fear of another argument. It was always just me regardless if I was in a relationship or not. But now I realized that with the right person, it's okay to open up slowly. It is okay to be vulnerable. It is okay to depend on others and it is okay to just be you.
To you my love, I know it's never easy to love me. I have so many things to work out on and everyday I try my best. I doubt a lot of things and I doubt even our relationship. Regardless of what I am, my fears, my past, and who I was and who I am now, it never made you faltered. From the beginning until now, you stood by me supporting me and helping me along the way. You are the very definition of every poem and love letters that I saved. You are what makes me warm and safe all day. You are what all those songs I put on repeat all day. You are what makes me so much at peace. And you are what makes me want to live just for another day.
Thank you, for making me experience at least once what the love I used to read and wished for really feels like. What love is really supposed to be. There will never be enough words to express how grateful I am to ever meet you. I love you, and I hope one day I can love you more than you can love me because my dear, you really deserve everything and all the good things that the world can ever give.

Hi guys,
Love, love, and love. A wandering hopeful romantic searching for love.
Me:
A Texan through and through, with roots in small towns and residence in the big city. I am currently pursuing a career in health-care as a medical student, and I moved to Chicago for that reason. Finally, I am of South Asian descent, which adds a touch of cultural richness to the mix.
Hobbies/Interests: If we share the same interests, then that is great. It's not necessary, though. I value a connection over shared hobbies.
One of my favorite pastimes is watching movies. I have frequent movie nights. Some showings include: "Inception", "Godzilla Minus One", "The Thing" (1982), "Whiplash", and "Shutter Island". Snacks and drinks are included. Terence Fletcher is mean, but my cooking is meaner. I enjoy exploring various cuisines at restaurants, and I enjoy trying new recipes when cooking at home. A few of my favorite cuisines are: Thai, Mediterranean, and Indian. I balance out the snacking, drinking (virgin), and eating by being active. I frequently run, walk, and lift. You might have seen me running on Bloomingdale Park Trail or walking along Union Park. A few other interests are reading, boardgames, videogames, and learning a language. I love the competitiveness, strategizing, and fantasy involved in boardgames, but I think Robinson Crusoe (novel character) has the upper hand in those areas. I think it would be fun to have our conversations in another language and whisper sweet nothings to each other. Mon amour. Mahal ko.
Personality:
I am a combination of reserved and adventurous, leaning towards seriousness yet showcasing a playful side when I'm comfortable with someone. I find comfort in being a homebody, but I do emerge from my cave. I strive to go the extra mile for my partner, and I always try to showcase of my love for someone through cards, poems (albeit poorly written), and physical affection.
Physical Description:
My hair cascades in subtle curles at mid-neck-length. I am a fan of the clean-shaven aesthetic, but I occasionally sport well-maintained stubble. My complexion is caramel that is accompanied by dark brown eyes. I have a slim-to-average physique, and I stand at a height of 5'7".
You:
I am searching for someone who values a healthy and active lifestyle, someone who takes care of themselves physically. While physical compatibility is important, I value a shared commitment to overall wellness. Intimacy and romance (sweet sweet love) are important to me, and I like physical affection a lot (a lot). Admittedly, I do like someone that is slightly clingy. It's nice to feel wanted. I would like someone that is vulnerable because it builds a stronger connection. I deeply appreciate the intimacy it fosters. I desire a partner who values companionship and reciprocity, understanding that mutual effort and appreciation are fundamental. I'm drawn to qualities like open-mindedness, calmness, and versatility in a potential partner. A lot of sweetness, a dash of spice, and a little chemical X.
Stuff:
Religion & Politics:
I'm personally not religious. I'm open-minded towards all religious affiliations and welcome the opportunity to learn about different faiths. Similarly, my political stance isn't easily boxed into conservative or democratic ideologies. I value the continuous evolution of my political beliefs, emphasizing independent thinking and the avoidance of polarizing partisan politics.
Kids & Pets:
I've made the decision not to have children. For me, it's about prioritizing my partner, hobbies, and career. I opt not to have pets due to lifestyle constraints, financial considerations, and personal preferences. I simply have no interest in having pets, but I'd be willing to accommodate.

• Consistent communication and a genuine desire to converse are all that I ask. Please. If you're not interested, honesty is appreciated – I won't take it personally.

Tour Concert : LOVE, POEM IN SEOUL
Disc 1 :
Love for Moment
– Opening
– Unlucky
– Palette
– Autumn Morning
– Friday
– Secret Garden
Love for Message
– The Visitor
– Red Queen
– Jam Jam
– Twenty Three
– BBIBBI
– Hold my hand
– Blueming
Disc 2 :
Love for Meaning
– Meaning Of You
– Knees
– Bad Day
– Child Searching for a Star
– Lullaby
– Through The Night
Love for Miracle
– Sogyeokyeong
– The Red Shoe
– Above The Time
– You & I
Encore
– Good Day
– Love Poem
https://whalehd.com/11460674.html

I had a strange relationship with deconstruction as my dad was trained at a university level to do apologetics. He was an LDS chaplain in the Army, and every night for scripture study, we got discourses on the nuances of our faith and justifications for every question we ever had. I didn’t swear until I was 18 years old, or drink caffinated anything until about that time as well, because it was never a matter of justification. It was what my family, my tribe, my people did, to go to church on Sunday, and to be worthy. I was senior patrol leader and assistant to the bishop if that clarifies who I was. I didn’t have “God will reveal it in due time” parents. I had “Here’s the answer, here’s contemporary discussion about it. Here’s some reading material if you want to learn more” parents, except for they were wicked smart, and had biased conclusions.
I was called to serve in the Mexico City East mission. Shortly before opening my mission call, I broke up with my girlfriend at the time. i left BYU-I and went home to prepare. I received my endowments after lying to my stake president about my worthiness to enter the house of the lord. I came clean, and he threatened to not let me go out for a year because I was unclean. The prick made me talk to a therapist to be cleared for the mission field. The therapist had a brain and let me go out. When I was giving my mission farewell speech, I wrote it to include the teachings of many religions in it. I had drawn inspiration from the 13th article of faith “We believe all things, hope all things-“ and wrote a poem about how Adam and Eve related to the Resurection and Atonement of christ. My dad tells me the stake president was shifting in his seat like he wanted to pull me down from the pulpit. Prick.
The CCM was a pleasure to attend because of my district. The guys in my district there held a secret thanksgiving feast after hours when we were supposed to be in bed with food we had smuggled out of the cafeteria. We had look outs so we wouldn’t be caught by the patrolling teachers. My district was placed under surveillance because of politics against our spanish teacher who we could tell actually cared about us, and we were transferred into a classroom with one sided mirrors, and microphones hanging from the ceiling. An apostle came to speak to the entire CCM, and I thought we would get a chance to meet with him directly, or that he would be even remotely accessible in some way. He was kept away from us, separate and removed even though we had the same mission. I played a lot of volley ball, and got into shape enough that I touched the rim of a basketball hoop for the first time while I was there.
My first companion was a native speaker, and liked to spend the mornings in the cyber (Internet Cafe). He would make sure I was on LDS.org while he looked at softcore porn on instagram. We would spend hours there, and I was disappointed that this was the mission.
We went to a previous investigators house, and while there, we saw preparations for an animal sacrifice. These guys were putting alcohol, cocaine, and blowing smoke onto a white chicken, and placed in into a cardboard box with a bunch of black chickens. They showed us a room full of weapons, with blood and feathers strewn all over the floor. We noped the fuck out, and went home.
I requested an emergency transfer after spending most days in the cyber, watching my companion deface JW’s property, and being an all around dick to me by telling me how to shower and how to sleep.
For his replacement, the person that would help me with his bastion of knowledge, they gave me a white guy who spoke as much Spanish as I did because he was only a transfer further into his mission than me. They made this poor kid senior companion to me before his first transfer was over. Why? Because the kid was a workaholic.
The first thing this elder and I did when we got to our apartment was to pick up and leave to go to the house of a member who had just died. We sang at the wake. I sang in a language I didn’t know, for people I didn’t know, with a companion I didn’t know. We sounded pretty damn good. The elder began setting appointments with the non-believing family members during the service. I just sat and watched the mindless kids chase the family dog.
This elder skipped lunch every day, and made me do the same. We knocked every door in our area twice that transfer. One time, he got very sick, and was delirious out in the sun with me while we were walking. I made us go home for lunch that day, and he made me promise to wake him up after thirty minutes so we could get back to the Lord’s work. Three hours later he woke up, chewed me out for letting him sleep that long, and then begrudgingly thanked me for making him rest.
One time, while walking, this Elder expressed to me that he also had some questions, but he was afraid to share the details because he knew my own testimony was fragile. I pressed him for details of his plight, and he revealed to me the darkest part of church history that he had learned while we were in the CCM, that Joseph Smith had drank alcohol while in Carthage Jail before he died. Thoughts of Fanny Alger, of Mountain Meadows Massacre, and of my own mother’s rather recently implemented looser interpretation of the word of wisdom all flashed through my head. This guy was supposed to be my teacher? All I could do was express how sorry I was for his confusion, and told him to have faith. Heaven knew I couldn’t help him.
One night with this companion, it was storming hard, and the streets were flooded. This guy refused to let us go home. We climbed along fences to avoid getting our already wet shoes soaked, and waded through a foot of water to get to the doors that were slammed in our faces. There was a loose wire on a door bell, and when I rang it, I was shocked by the completed circuit the water made. Rejection after rejection piled up. Finally, my “senior” companion said that this was the last row of houses. On the last house of the last row, there was a family that was all deaf. The father opened the door, and was suprised to see us and didn’t know who we were. I remembered the sign for Jesus from my grandparents who started and ran the ASL endowment ceremony in the Saint George temple. The family was thrilled we knew the sign. When I asked if we could come in, the family politely waved goodbye and closed the door on our faces.
Another time when it rained, something fell into my eye. It was one of those freak nature accidents, and small enough that I couldn’t figure out how to get it out without a mirror. The thing stayed wedged in the corner of my eye for hours before we got home and I could finally get the foreign object out. Looking at it on my finger, I could see it was a small green spider. Days later, still in pain, I pulled what I can only assume was accumulated webbing from the spider that I’d crushed against my eyeball off of my lower eye lid. The pain stopped after that.
I bought a $500 camera. It was stolen within a month.
This Elder and I had the good luck before transfers to baptize two children. They would have been baptized anyways, so I didn’t do any actual converting, but I taught a few lessons, got in the water and did the dunk. Bucket list item, check.
I didn’t have enough time for laundry on P-Day, so I’d wash my outfit and dry in on the radiator through the night. Transfers happen, and my new companion lied to our land lords about the electricity bill, paying it in full but not giving a reason as to why it was so high. I didn’t care anymore, I just needed something clean to wear, but these land lord had treated me and my previous companion well, better than the previous landlord who had stolen our cleaning supplies. I felt these people deserved honesty. My senior companion capitulated eventually, and he and I butted heads regularly after that on the morality of things. I think in hindsight he was a smarter and better man than I was.
The new land lords, the “Lagunez Family”, were wonderful. They included us in their activities, and I felt like I had some people in my corner. When I eventually came home from my mission, a daughter of the family had written me a goodbye letter. She is currently serving a mission. They made some great music, and I have “Infiltradors” on CD, the official name of the band the father of the family was a part of (he was the drummer).
I knew the whole area by heart by that point, so I navigated us to our appointments. Half of the landmarks I watched for to know our location were interesting buildings with unique colors. The other half of my landmarks were dead dogs whose decaying corpses had become second nature to see. I began marking how much time had passed by how deeply a certain dog on a certain dirt path’s chest was caved in.
There was an apartment complex in my area that I had been told not to proselytize in because “It’s dangerous.” Turns out, those people didn’t have any money, so the church didn’t want them. That complex was past the dog and to the east about ten blocks.
My companion and I knocked on a door, and visited a man who was missing his legs. His daughter was there, putting dirty water on the aching wounds. He had a single room for a house, and wheezed when he spoke. He couldn’t afford medication. He still went out and worked all day for his daughter, and gave her whatever money he made, trusting her to keep him alive somehow. The church expected this man to pay tithing. The church expected me to tell this man to pay tithing.
I got the chance to hike up a mountain. At the top, I played chess with a chess set I’d procured from one of the best rapid chess players I’ve ever met. He had been the ward mission leader. He was a good man, a good father, and I wish him the best.
I found another man who was deaf and spoke sign language. I sat with him, and convinced him to come to church all by myself while my companion talked with some tienda tender. I was so excited because this was my own personal project and it was going well. The man came to church, and I sat with him through sacrament meeting. In Sunday school (I can’t believe I did this), I accidentally drooled on the guy. I was just talking so he could read my lips, and I guess I forgot to swallow at some point because a dolup of spit landed on his arm. I apologized profusely, and he played it off, but I never saw that investigator again.
My companion and I knocked a door one day, and a man answered. He wore tattered clothes, and maggots were burrowing into and out of his feet. He muttered something about the stars, missing his wife, and he began to tear up. My eyes stung from the stench. The door closed. Somehow, I knew the man would be dead in a matter of weeks.
I had lost hope that I was doing anything worth while. I looked down on the Doc Martins that had stayed with me five months at this point. I was angry with myself for being so useless in the field, angry with the church for giving me leaders that didn’t listen to my needs or perspective, angry with my mom for drinking while I had to teach people that it was a sin, angry with my dad for giving me the skills and knowledge to justify anything, even pedophilia in the early days of the church, to the point where I could look someone in the eye, and knowing the kind of man Smith was, tell them he was a good man and a true prophet of God. Suddenly a man approached us. He said he recognized us as missionaries, and asked about our message. This never happened. People didn’t just come up to us unless they were crazy or dangerous. But this was a public place, and this guy was genuine. My companion talked to him, and gathered his story, but I was plotting something else. I was done with not caring about these people in a way that mattered. I was tired of walking in another man’s shoes, a man who wasn’t me, who believed different things than me. The chopped leg, the rotting dogs, the infested feet, it all swirled into a single thought in that moment.
What would Jesus do?
I walked over to the man, and in broken Spanish asked him to stand next to me. He did so, and I compared my shoe size to his foot. It was a perfect match. He protested, but I didn’t let him get a word in edge wise. I took off my shoes, put them on his dirty feet, and laced them up nice and tight. Those shoes had cost a ton, and had been meant to last the whole mission. All I had left at this point were my fancy dress shoes that gave my blisters back at the apartment. I didn’t care. I walked home in my socks that day, happy as a lark.
Covid-19 hit a month later. I was one of the few they brought home instead of quarantining. After having served only 6 months. I told God if he wanted me to stay home, he’d have to make them release me.
They released me. I think I was one of maybe a hundred missionaries that were released due to Covid. The church realized their mistake pretty soon after I was released. Once Covid infrastructure began to develop, they didn’t release any more. I guess I didn’t serve a full two years, but I did serve a full mission.
My brother served, and he nearly killed himself due to intense depression brought on by Covid quarantine and poor leadership (I’ve got a few mission president stories, but those are for another time).
I learned lying to someone’s face from my mission, and spent the rest of my time at BYU-I as “nuanced” until the last two years, over which the most epic hoe phase imaginable became my new mission. I spent those years terrified of getting a call from the honor code office.
I’m married now, with my degree irrevocably in my possession. I have friends and loved ones that are in the church and are working on their mission papers. I’m beginning to feel powerless again. I’m seeing the decay again, not on legs, feet, or dogs anymore, but in the souls of the people who the church raises to do their dirty volunteer work. I see them like the animal sacrifices I saw being prepared. I’m not sure what shoes I have left to give to those people that I know are going to be in pain.
My parents are out completely now. It was a long time coming, but they are out and so much happier. I’m working on building a new relationship with my family, one based off of the fact that we won’t be together forever, so we have to make the most of our time together now.
Happy Sunday guys, best of luck to you all. And most importantly, chupa la piña.

Last paragraph is the main, if you don’t want to read the context.
My ex gf was my friend for almost 6 years. During those years she ghosted me twice without a reason at all and she would come back regretting it a lot what she did, telling me she loved me, that she kept my poems and letters and that she thought about me almost everyday. I forgave her both times.
The second time she came back she confessed she had been drug abusing and that her life was a mess. She told me doing drugs didn’t allow her to think about what she really cared as me.She started lovebombing me even we lived in two different countries of Europe and about 1500km away. She wanted to come to visit me so badly. Love is blind and I ended falling for her as she treated me so damn well. We talked everyday, a lot, and she finally came to my house in summer.
We started dating and came again in autumn. Everything was perfect but after she left on autumn she went into a depressive episode where she wanted space and time for herself. We talked less than usual. She asked me if I would dump her for being depressed. I ensured her that wouldn’t happen at any case. At winter I got depressed after a bad medical new. At this point everything began to be complicated. She argued with me for no reason, she was mad at me for being depressed. I begged her for company to feel better which she said no all the time. I was preparing to visit her in a month but she always gave me excuses not to buy the flight ticket.
Two weeks after new year she broke up with me saying I made her life miserable, that we were not compatible. I begged for a break which she accepted and surprisingly she asked me the next day to give each other good night as she missed it. The first week she gave it and told me everyday she loved me, the next week she disappeared and when I stopped giving her good night she broke up with me. It was really traumatic as she went mad when I suggested she could have BPD as my psychiatrist and therapist know her since we met and for her bad childhood, drug abuse, other weird things she did, and how she treated me during all this time they believed in a high probability she had BPD.
I feel after 5 months I moved on, but I still feel sometimes the emptiness I have from having someone talking me everyday 24/7 to total blackness. I have my friends and I hang out with them having a really good time. I met a girl who I like and would like to date, but I feel empty. How have you dealt with this those who had been devalued and discarded from one day to another?
Thanks (will delete my post in a few days as I believe she still stalks me).

Hey, I'm a 20-year-old guy from Utah County, and no, I'm not Mormon, so dating here is always an adventure /S. I'm posting here because it feels more personal than swiping on dating apps.
I'm a confident, upbeat guy with a knack for being a smartass, but I can also have deep, meaningful conversations. If you need someone to listen, I'm your guy, but I expect the same in return. I like to stay active, often doing things that might get me in trouble or banged up, but that's half the fun. I'm into calisthenics and running—I'm fit, though not exactly bulking up like a bodybuilder.
When I'm not working out, I'm diving into video games, especially military simulations like Arma and OHD, or classic platformers like Mario and Sonic. History, particularly WW2 and the Cold War, fascinates me, and I'm even working on a Cold War-themed board game. Despite my nerdy interests, I have a sensitive side—yes, I write poems and love to flirt once I get comfortable with someone.
I'm looking for someone sweet and caring around my age, preferably in the USA. I'm liberal and an atheist, just to put it out there upfront. If we click, that's what matters most to me.
If you're interested, hit me up. We can swap Snap or Discord and take it from there.

Destination Covered New Delhi – Agra – Jaipur – Goa

TOUR ITINERARY DETAILS

Day 01: Arrive New Delhi

On arrival Incredible Tour To India representative shall meet you at the airport to welcome you and transfer you to hotel. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 02: Delhi

Enjoy full day city tour covering Laxmi Narayan Temple – The Place of Gods, India Gate – The memorial of martyrs, Parliament House – The Government Headquarters, Jama Masjid – The largest mosque in Asia, Red Fort – The red stone magic, Gandhi memorial – The memoir of father of the nation beside these some other places to visit are – Qutub Minar Complex and Humayun’s Tomb. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 03: Delhi to Agra

Today we shall drive you to Agra. Agra is 205 kilometers away from Delhi and take 5 hours drive to reach. Arrive in Agra and check in into hotel. Later, we shall take you for a city tour covering -Taj Mahal – a poem written in white marble, the most extravagant monument ever built for love, Red Fort – a visit to the fort in ‘Agra’ is a must since so many of the events which lead to the construction of the Taj took place here, Itmad-ud-Daula’s Tomb – The tomb is of particular interest since many of its design elephants overshadow the Taj. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 04: Agra to Jaipur

Early morning, drive to Jaipur. The city is 235 kilometers away from Agra and take 5 hours drive to reach. En route visit Fatehpur Sikri (Old Deserted town of Mughal Dynasty) and its monuments which include Jama Masjid, The Buland Darwaza, Palace of Jodha Bai, Birbal Bhawan & Panch Mahal. Arrive in Jaipur and check into the hotel. Later relax in the hotel. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 05: Jaipur

Today morning we shall take you for a tour to Amer Fort. Take joy ride on Elephant (presently Elephant Ride closed at Amber Fort for the time being). Afternoon enjoy city tour covering City Palace – occupies a large area divided into a series of courtyards, gardens & buildings and a perfect blend of Rajasthani & Mughal architecture, Royal Observatory – An observatory with some rare qualities to its credit, Nawab Sahab Ki Haveli, and the Bazaar etc. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 06: Jaipur to Goa

In the morning, you’ll be transferred to airport to board connecting flight for Goa. On arrival in Goa met our representative and get transferred to your Hotel. Rest of the day is at leisure. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 07: Goa

In the morning, enjoy half day sightseeing tour of Old Goa. Evening is at leisure. Overnight at the hotel.

Day 08: Goa

Full day relax by the poolside/Beach. Overnight stay.

Day 09: Goa Departure

Morning is at leisure. In the evening, you’ll be transferred to the airport to board connecting flight for your onward destination.

Hey, I'm a 20-year-old guy from Utah County, and no, I'm not Mormon, so dating here is always an adventure /S. I'm posting here because it feels more personal than swiping on dating apps.
I'm a confident, upbeat guy with a knack for being a smartass, but I can also have deep, meaningful conversations. If you need someone to listen, I'm your guy, but I expect the same in return. I like to stay active, often doing things that might get me in trouble or banged up, but that's half the fun. I'm into calisthenics and running—I'm fit, though not exactly bulking up like a bodybuilder.
When I'm not working out, I'm diving into video games, especially military simulations like Arma and OHD, or classic platformers like Mario and Sonic. History, particularly WW2 and the Cold War, fascinates me, and I'm even working on a Cold War-themed board game. Despite my nerdy interests, I have a sensitive side—yes, I write poems and love to flirt once I get comfortable with someone.
I'm looking for someone sweet and caring around my age, preferably in the USA. I'm liberal and an atheist, just to put it out there upfront. If we click, that's what matters most to me.
If you're interested, hit me up. We can swap Snap or Discord and take it from there

Poem by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (photo of text)
English Translation by David Paley (Another translation to explore is by Louis Simpson)
Les séparés The Separated Apart
Do not write. I am sad and would like to fade away. The fine summers without you are nights without light. I have folded my arms unable to reach you; And to knock at my heart is to beat on my grave. Do not write!
Do not write. Let us learn only to die in ourselves. Ask only of God… of yourself, whether I loved you! In the depths of your absence, to hear that you love me Is to be hearing from heaven without ever ascending. Do not write!
Do not write. I am fearful of you and afraid of my memory That has kept your voice and calls to me often; Do not show me the water that cannot be drunk For your cherished writing brings your portrait alive. Do not write!
Do not write those sweet words that I dare not read any more: It seems that your voice spreads them over my heart; And, as I see them through the glow of your smile; It seems they are stamped with a kiss on my heart. Do not write!
https://preview.redd.it/nfboc8l2rb1d1.jpg?width=700&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6281eaa6bb17dae221fecc3aefeae5db72386ed3

Hey, I'm a 20-year-old guy from Utah County, and no, I'm not Mormon, so dating here is always an adventure /S. I'm posting here because it feels more personal than swiping on dating apps.
I'm a confident, upbeat guy with a knack for being a smartass, but I can also have deep, meaningful conversations. If you need someone to listen, I'm your guy, but I expect the same in return. I like to stay active, often doing things that might get me in trouble or banged up, but that's half the fun. I'm into calisthenics and running—I'm fit, though not exactly bulking up like a bodybuilder.
When I'm not working out, I'm diving into video games, especially military simulations like Arma and OHD, or classic platformers like Mario and Sonic. History, particularly WW2 and the Cold War, fascinates me, and I'm even working on a Cold War-themed board game. Despite my nerdy interests, I have a sensitive side—yes, I write poems and love to flirt once I get comfortable with someone.
I'm looking for someone sweet and caring around my age, preferably in the USA. I'm liberal and an atheist, just to put it out there upfront. If we click, that's what matters most to me.
If you're interested, hit me up. We can swap Snap or Discord and take it from there.