When it comes down to the wire

So I know we've been talking all summer about being separated. It's probably kind of annoying. But good news! In nine days, we will be reunited again. And all the worrying and anxiety and wanting and waiting will be over.  Until then, it has gotten exponentially worse.
I cannot begin to describe to you how absolutely awful it is to be so close to being able to see your SO (significant other) after being separated for a length of time. We are dying people. We are counting down the days, hours, and minutes until we get to see each other again. We are planning exactly what we'll wear (and underneath ;)) and what we're going to do as soon as we see each other. What we're going to say. How it's going to go since I'm meeting her family for the first time. We are just a mess. We probably cry every time we Skype at some point because it's getting that bad.

Anticipation Kills

Usually I have something clever or poetic to say to open these things up...some cool little passage or some interesting comparison...that's not how this one is going to work...because I have no jokes to make and nothing clever to say about something like this. Have you ever wanted something so bad that it dominates your thoughts, waking and at night? Have you ever dreamt of something, and then woken up wanting it just as bad as when you went to sleep hoping to escape it, even for a few short moments? Have you ever wanted something so bad that you can taste it on your tongue and feel it on your skin, the memory of the touch enough to send chills across your body? Have you ever felt the urge to be with someone again, so much that everything else seems irrelevant and pointless compared to seeing them again? Yeah, that's about where I'm at right now with this whole "distance" bullshit.

How the Internet Has Shaped My Education

I am a child of the Internet Generation. Not the kids that necessarily were born with it being a huge thing, but the generation that has made it grow and thrive and develop into a mad powerhouse of magical journeys and wonderful memes and mind bending information;the kids that grew into the adults that now are its main powerhouses in social media.

The Case of the Bruised Knuckles

The night was passing by peacefully. The only sound that echoed within the confines of the room was the sound of rain from my cellphone, the screen dim and the sound low. Nestled deep in the blankets, I slept deeply, the troubles of the day forgotten for the peaceful drug of unconsciousness. Yet within the layers of night I jolted awake suddenly, the peace and the depth of my slumber forgotten for a drowsy, confused grog that was permeating my senses with cloudiness and displeasure. It was not from a nightmare or some horrible sound...so why, pray-tell, was I suddenly awake, and most assuredly not happy? I lay there a moment, not moving, trying to identify the source that had woken me. Surely it was no sound from within the house, the rest of my family was enjoying their own individual dreams, and no animal we own would make enough noise to wake me from my closed room. Suddenly my hand began to ache, and I looked down in puzzlement. My knuckles were sore, and red. I realised that in my sleep I had reached out and hit the wall with my hand, and this was the jolting force that awakened me. Then my gaze softened and tears came to my eyes as the reason for my awakening became crystal clear: I had reached for you in my sleep, and you had not been there.

Long Distance Problems

So first off, can I just say that SKYPE IS NOT THE SAME AND BEING ABLE TO CUDDLE SOMEONE TO SLEEP?! Oh my goodness it makes me so mad that I am about 1,000 miles away from Autumn and I swear to god it is killing me!! We miss each other so damn much one of us cries over it every time we Skype I swear! I really don't like it. It annoys the crap out of me.

Why am I suddenly so upset when we've been separated for about 2 months (1 month since the visit)? Because last night I told Autumn that I have attempted to make the teddy bear she gave me the big spoon and said it wasn't the same. She proceeded to bawl. Not happy fun times. Then we went on to talk about how we miss each other and everything we're going to once we see each other again and how we're never going to do this ever again. This distance thing is just too much.

On Dating a Singer

There are roughly 7 billion people on this planet. The chances are actually quite decent that you'll end up dating at least one of them, but there are certain breeds of person that are unmistakable, easily recognizable, but sometimes a quite complicated thing to try and engage in any sort of relationship with. This is a survival guide of sorts, a list and a guide to what happens if you are planning or are in the process of dating the breed of woman known around the world as "The Singer".

On Dating a Bro in a Chick's Body

Before y'all come after me about being politically correct and asking if she's transgender and all that jazz I will say this first. She's not transgender. She's two spirit (similar to gender queer but not quite) and uses female pronouns. We call her boy days "bro days" and her guy side her bro. We make jokes about her feeling like a bro with boobs. It's really NBD to either of us. If it was a big deal to either of us, it's more her issue than mine. Now that all that's settled...

On Dating a Fashionista

There are roughly 7 billion people on this planet. The chances are actually quite decent that you'll end up dating at least one of them, but there are certain breeds of person that are unmistakable, easily recognizable, but sometimes a quite complicated thing to try and engage in any sort of relationship with. This is a survival guide of sorts, a list and a guide to what happens if you are planning or are in the process of dating the breed of woman known around the world as "The Fashionista".

Insomnia's a Bitch

It's 1 in the morning. My house is completely silent, aside from the sounds of horny insects outside and the family cat going about her rounds in the hallway. The moon itself has decided to sleep, and not grace me with its presence. Do I have work tomorrow? Yes I do. Am I tired from the days events? Absolutely. And yet, sleep sometimes simply will not come. Everyone has had one of those nights. Those nights when you toss and turn, staring at the ceiling as your mind races and you find yourself thinking way too much about things that grab your imagination by the throat and lead it along a stroll through your memories and wreak havoc on your dignity. You all know exactly what kind of thoughts I mean.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, demons come out to play. The dark side of your mind comes creeping out of the back of you mind and starts to play an eerie tune on your thoughts. You start exploring those thoughts that you would rather stay locked away in your mind forever, where they can do the least amount of harm, and sometimes you fall into a place of pain, sorrow, and darkness, that stays with you for days or until the sun sees it fit to fight another battle and rise.

Sometimes you fall asleep, and a horrible dream drags itself from the depths of hell and terrorizes you, and you jolt awake, trembling and sweating and gasping for any air that does not come from the sick, twisted world you left behind in your mind. After that, you might as well go walk around, watch TV, eat something, or do everything you can to calm yourself down before sleep is even a fathomable possibility again...you don't want to fall asleep just to re-enter the same dream or manufacture another night terror equal in pain and fear...if this happens you're sure for a rough rest of the night.

I have always been the kind of person that has needed time by myself in order to gather my thoughts. This wasn't always the best choice, but it was something I needed. My solitude was all I thought I had in order to calm my night demons, whether it be dream or thought. Of course no one knew about my bad dreams but my mother, and she didn't even know when I was having them, just that it was a possibility. I have never liked telling people in my life about my personal problems, weaknesses, or issues...it's just not my way to go about things. At least that's how it is with everyone but her.

The Dark Side of the Moon

You learn a lot of things when you come out to people that you are bisexual, gay, or literally anything other than straight. I have a really strong imagination, so as I'm sure you fellow creative people out there can imagine, I had created dozens of horrible scenarios in my head and awful consequences that would come from me telling people about this. As a person who regularly Internets for hours on end, I have seen enough digital and real-life drama about homosexuality to make anyone turn tail from the idea and practically sashay right back into the closet they were finally venturing out of.
But you know, I can definitely tell you that it went every way but the way I expected, which is both good and bad in multiple ways. I can safely say that everyone that I knew and loved did NOT turn their back on me. In fact most of them looked at me weird for THINKING that it would offend or weird them out.
I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that my sorority sisters and my friends still loved me, but that sigh of relief quickly became a strangled sob. It's amazing how the simplest things can reveal someone's true colors.
My best friend Kati has been by my side since freshman year, and we had become nearly inseparable as time had gone by. We were rooming together this year, and everything was going great in my world. I was so close to her family I called her mom "mom", I called her big brother Robi "big brother" (I still do that...I'm not giving up the bond I've formed with that boy for the world).

Hush Little Angel

Pain is a terrible thing. It hurts to hurt, whether that pain is a blade slicing across the skin or the feeling of a cold bed side when a warm body usually is sleeping soundly beside you. Pain can be something that you feel all by yourself, in a dark room, or it can carry hundreds of miles, and pierce a lovers heart like a fresh wound. Here's another question: if someone else feels pain, can you be hurt?
I don't know what others say, but my answer is definitely yes. I'm not there currently; for the summer, my journey has taken me back to my family, almost an entire country away. The only thing allowing us contact is the thread of technology like Skype, texting and Glide. I can't be as close to her as I like, as I can't help but feel that I should be. I act like I'm getting along fine, but in reality, it hurts me, and I am more frustrated than I ever have admitted to her. She thinks I'm strong, and it's true that I very well can be strong when the occasion calls for it, but in reality, when I can't help her when she's feeling pain or upset, it tears me to pieces that I can't just transport there and help immediately. When her pretty face contorts into a frown and tears fall form her face, each tear falling is like a knife in my skin, and hurts more than any wound anyone could ever physically inflict on me.

Time Apart

Right now, both of us are dealing with the separation of summer. Neither of us are taking it well. Considering we were steps away from each other during the school year, being several hundred miles apart really sucks. We both know we'll be together again in August, and we're both keeping relatively busy, but that doesn't make it any less difficult.

Can I just say we made a poor choice in timing for creating this blog? Everything was right about to get extremely crazy in my life which automatically makes Autumn's life crazy because I'm always freaking out. That's the amazing thing about her. She manages to bring down my panic. I can be such a perfectionist and worry wart and get myself into such a tizzy that I just end up collapsing into her arms for an hour straight just crying. I can't say anything. I just cry. And it sucks. And I know I should be better about this. The sad truth is I'm not. And I hate it. But it's always nice to have someone amazing like Autumn who will just be there and not ask questions. She just holds me. And everything's okay.

So Apparently I'm Bisexual

So funny thing about our relationship...we've both only ever dated men before. I was told stories of Autumn from last year. How she went through men like a sick person goes through tissues. She would use them and throw them away. At least that's how it was told to me. So it was interesting to see her in a more committed relationship when we first met. But that ended. Tragically. But that's the past!

Confessions of a Puppy

There are certain things that I take pride in, and one of those things was always the fact that no one could control me, and that in the relationship I was always the one with the leash (theoretically in some aspects, literally in others). You see, without meaning to, I seem to be a man-eater. Within a week I can have any man crawling on his knees and wrapped around my finger. Even after a relationship has ended, I have them still practically waiting on me. Even when I had a crush on someone, they would end up falling head over heels anyway, with little to no effort on my part. I know that it sounds amazing, but it got utterly boring. I am someone who likes the occasional argument, fight, and debate, so when the person I'm in a relationship with is a pile of Playdoh, willing to do anything I ask without question, my interests quickly go elsewhere. I often went from guy to guy, leaving one after 2 months maximum, capturing a new guy to suit my fancy.

Neither of us are currently wearing pants...

Do we have your attention? Good. Now then, it is currently a Saturday evening in Georgia, and as i said before, neither of us are currently wearing pants. This happens more often than is probably socially acceptable, but what the hell. Not that there's any smokey-hokey going on, we just simply don't really remain fully clothed around each other all the time. Often times Mariah simple isn't clothed at all. (though that's more my fault than hers). But lack of basic outer garments aside, this really isn't some literotica story, this is actually the story of how the two of us met. First, my side of the story.