“I think we’re looking for the same thing,” I messaged “Discreet” through Grindr — the gay man’s hook-up app du jour — at an Orlando conference I was attending for work.
I don’t get it, you think that once a perfect guy would come around I’d be happy. Truth be told, it only makes me sad.
What happened to me wasn’t like what happens in SVU: no guns, no ropes and gags. But that doesn’t make it something less dramatic or traumatic. Rape is rape is rape.
I am bitter. So bitter. It has been over a year since we broke up but every time I think about him I get so incredibly mad.
Do you, at all, miss us? Or are you enjoying new conversations, new ideas, frontiers? Those I was, perhaps, never meant to reach?
But you remember being ripped apart, or at least how it felt when he said that he could not do it anymore.
Because I see how you look at me. I see how sometimes you just have to touch me.
Regardless of what my political views are, any candidate who dismisses my power and equality as a woman loses my vote.
Don’t do it if you don’t enjoy it.
Probably the coolest thing about taking LSD is that you can listen to all your favourite music or whatever and when you hear it again sober it’ll put a smile on your face and you’ll remember what it was like to hear it high.