You’re Pretty! : A Fruit cocktale.

You’re pretty, okay? Stop saying that you aren’t. Just because you don’t look like other people doesn’t mean that you aren’t pretty.

Let’s say, you’re a kiwi, okay?  So you are this cute, tangy, little green and brown fuzzy thing that is all squat and round, and sometimes the seeds get caught in your teeth, but that’s okay.

But society has told us over the past hundred thousand years that bananas are the social standard of what pretty is. So what? Some people don’t even like bananas.

There are people out there whose favorite fruit is a pineapple, or pear, or cherry. People who think this is the best out there. And they are all great in their own way. Just because they are all different, doesn’t mean they are not as good as the others. It’s just been what’s engrained into our minds by years of grooming.

It’s okay to want to have more banana-like features, or apple, or oranges, or whatever; and want to improve yourself so you look the way that you want to and feel good about yourself. I am by no means saying you shouldn’t pursue the way that you want to be.

I want you to be who you are, however you want, and whatever is going to make you feel good about yourself. Because it’s not what society says that matters. It’s you. It’s how you feel about yourself. It’s about doing whatever you want to do so you feel pretty to you.

It’s okay to want to be different. It’s okay to want to be a banana. But that does not mean you are not beautiful to start with.

There are people out there who can see how beautiful you are, even if you can’t. There are fruits out there that wish they were a kiwi! So, you may not be society’s standard of what beauty is. And you might not even be your own standard of what beauty is. But you’re someone’s.

 

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Goodbye to my Cat

You know those moments where you have to grow up all at once? The last few days has been one of those moments. I had to make, easily, the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. Those of you who know me well, know that I have had quite a few hard choices in my life. Today I had to say goodbye to my best friend and soulmate for the past 8 years. Most of you would say it’s just a pet. But the few that know me well, know that Kisses was not only my cat, but my other half.

No other animal was more suited for me, and I’ve never had a connection like the one I did with her with any other pet I have had. She has been a more stable and permanent fixture in my life than most people. She was one of the best cats ever, always relax and loving, and easy to scare. She even was able to be around my cat-allergy friends and not make them die. For the past 8 years Kisses has been by my side; whenever I was sad, or happy, she knew.

I even remember the day she picked me to be her human. Yes, that is actually what happened. I was at the APA to adopt a new cat, and my ma was looking at this noisy orange fellow. I was leaning against a cage and I looked inside, and in the cage was a mass of dark fur and the largest glowing eyes you have ever seen. It was lying down in its litterbox like it was a friggen bed. I gave her a look and put my hand on the cage. She rose up to full form and slowly crept over to the cage door. She rubbed her face against my hand and her body followed. The cage was enveloped with tufts of brown fur as her hair stuck out from every opening in the cage door. This is the one.

When I adopted her they told me she was 8. She very much wasn’t because she would be 16 by now. When I got her rabies vax earlier this year, they said she was probably about 12, and very very healthy for her age; she easily had a few more years of life left in her. That’s why the news took me by surprise. Kisses had cancer. I should have known. We had always been connected in every way.

I noticed she was breathing a bit heavier than ususal Tuesday. She does this before a hairball so I didn’t give it much thought. Wensday seemed a little better, but she seemed a little off. By the time wet food hour came around she didn’t ask me for anything. She usually is yelling as loud as she can hours before wet food time to see if she could get it early. But nothing. I gave her her food and went to bed. The next morning she hadn’t touched it and was breathing heavier than before. I knew something was wrong. She wasn’t eating.

I had her taken into the vet, who was able to find her lungs had filled with fluid. He was able to drain some, and then had to send her to a vet specialist. Kisses has spent the last two days getting fluid drawn, xrays, ultrasounds, and living on an oxygen tank. The found tumors in her liver that had spread up to her lungs. It was so advanced that even it was a treatable cancer, it would do very little to help, and nothing could stop her lungs filling if she was sent home.

I have made the difficult decision to euthanize her. I picked her up this morning and brought her home for a few hours of laying around and being pet. She didn’t eat or drink. She walked around and examined the house and laid around in different spots; none of her ususal ones. She even laid in her litter box like when we first met. She was still unstable and had trouble breathing, but she was comfortable.

Everyone took turns saying goodbye. Sidney was exceptionally difficult. Everyone left so I could be alone with her when the doctor came.

I held her in my lap, more for me than her bc she really didn’t like sitting in peoples laps. They sedated her first so she could relax and wouldn’t feel it. I was able to look at her face and hold her as her breathing slowed down to once every 5-10 seconds even before they put in the final injection. The doctor told me it would ususaly take a few minutes, but once the injection was in, Kisses was gone in just a few seconds. I felt her go, just as I knew I would, bc she has always been a part of me.

Nothing will ever feel the same or as special to me as she did. I was able to give her eight years of love. It all happened so fast, that I didn’t have time. I wasn’t ready. I am still not. But I know, once I saw her at the vet, that she was. And her giving out so fast enforced that.

I was so afraid when I left her at the vet specialty center that she thought maybe I was putting her up for adoption like her last family. I told her over and over, “I’m not going to leave you.” So when I was able to hold her and look into her eyes as she went, I was able to let her know, that she would never be alone again. That I wasn’t going to leave her.

Dr. Frankenstein’s Guide to Dating

Everyone likes to blame their ex for things.

“They treated me bad. They cheated on me. They were a moocher.

Therefore,

I cannot trust people anymore. I worry. I get depressed.”

Everyone is effected in one way or another by the relationships we have with others; the lovers we have taken. How they have broken and destroyed us over the years of wear and tear.

But, have you ever thought about how you have affected those you have left behind? I have. Lets take it back a few years to the high school age to my first major relationship. Relationship number three. For fucks sake, lets call the ex in question Jamie.

When I got involved with Jamie, they were quiet, shy, and kind of a little weird. I took everything for granted. This would end up being the very first love of my life, and I single-handedly drove the entire relationship into the ground and thew myself face first into a depression that would alter the course of my life, and how I would handle every lover since.

Jamie said I love you first. I didn’t say it back. It was thanksgiving, and it was over the phone in front of their entire family. And I did not say it back. I embarrassed them entirely. To be fair, I didn’t even know what I heard. It was very rushed, and quiet. I was not sure what they had said, I only assumed.

I broke up with Jamie over something petty and stupid. I wasn’t getting the attention I wanted and I did not care about their priorities. I was the priority. Needless to say, I regretted what I had done the second it happened. I begged to take it back. It was too late. I had broken Jamie into little bits and pieces.

The following weeks, and months, and years, were a rinse and repeat cycle of disaster. Jamie would stay friends with me, but only in secret. They had told so many things to their friends about me it was impossible to be friends in public, because after all, I was a terrible person. I hurt them. Who would let their friend be around someone who didn’t even care about their feelings in the slightest? Not me.

I liked to tell myself it was because Jamie still loved me. We would meet, and kiss, and be together. Jamie would have a series of girlfriends after me. This was littered with lying to me, lying to them, cheating on them with me, every possible bad affair cliche in the book. Jamie always treated me like a gem in private. But in public, I was garbage. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. I was the bad guy all along.

I would do anything for them. I even cheated on one of my relationships for them. I can’t say I am happy with myself. But I was in love, and they loved me back. Even when we were with other people, we kept drifting back together. I called it fate. Destiny.

I would have to prove acts to them. Prove my feelings. Prove that I love them more than the person I was with. Wear a string tied around me like a collar smeared with their name. Property. It would take only a clear of their throat, a nod of their head, and I would do whatever they motioned at the time. I was trained like a dog.

After long years enduring this, I began to see things differently. I began to see. Jamie was no longer shy and cute. Jamie was demanding, expectant, the kind of person who would cheat on every relationship they had ever had, expected others to cheat and do whatever they wanted for them or they would be punished. Jamie used people. Used me. This is what breaking their heart had done to them. They became as heartless as I was when I tore them to shreds. I had created a monster.

I no longer wanted this in my life, but Jamie was no longer the kind of person to let their dog off of a leash. They finally dangled what I had wanted for years in front of me. A chance at another relationship. But I was no longer a little lap dog. I was a fearless hunting dog, and I set my eyes on what I wanted. I gave Jamie one chance to change. Show me they could be the kind of person I wanted to be with. The person I fell in love with in the first place.

Jamie was no longer this person. They failed.

It never worked out. I would leave Jamie behind with one last kiss and move on with y life. And eventually, Jamie would be in a long term relationship with someone who they loved. I don’t know if they treated that person right, or cheated. I know that when we were in the same place, our eyes would still find each other like magnets. I would smile and turn away.

In the long run, I really hope that Jamie finds love. I feel sorry for what I have done, and for anyone else I have hurt in the past. I don’t even know that girl anymore, who would hurt people without a second thought.

That’s the thing though, isn’t it? I am no where near the same person as I was before. I could never dream of treating someone so horribly, even cheating. I am filled with regrets, and if you put that girl in front of me I would not recognize her.

I am different now because of the relationships I have been through. I have been broken, cheated on, lied to, used. But I cannot say my hands are clean, for I have also done these things to other people. People I cared about. People I loved more than I loved myself. I am a monster.

A Friendship Ruined?

I never meant for all this to happen, you know. This journey into bi-curiosity did not begin with being interested in you.

Before this, I was feeling like I had finally found my place in the world. I had my relationship, my family, my friends, my friend group. Where I fit in. All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Then, I gained interest in the opposite sex.

I met the most lovely trans woman. It didn’t start out as anything. I wanted to be friends with her, she was so cool. I thought if I got to know her, I would have an entry way into the LBGT world. I could learn, meet new people, figure out how to talk to girls as interests.

We talked, we hung out and played video games together. I was able to talk to her about my feelings and concerns going into this. I never felt judged. It was just so comfortable to me, being around her. She was such a wonderful friend.

One day I went to go to hang out with her; I looked, and she was drop dead gorgeous. It blew me away. Her hair was of warm sand, and her eyes were the color of melted chocolate. I thought, “Well, shit!”

I had caught the feelings. What the fuck was I going to do now?

It didn’t end there. She showed interest in me too. But she was also resistant. I pushed. I jumped the gun. I kissed her. I felt nothing.

Then why didn’t the interest go away if there was no spark? No fire.

Because, don’t you know, fire is man made? Chemistry is just getting the right combination of elements. The right timing. Heat, passion, the right settings. Chemistry can be made between people. Hope cannot be broken because the future is always changing.

I am a train that runs on an unfinished track. I knew nothing was going to happen. I asked, and no, there wasn’t any of those feelings from her for me. She felt nothing for me. Kissing me felt like nothing. But I am bound to wreck. I knew what I was going to do. I had to go out with a bang.

I propositioned the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, knowing she would turn me down. It didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt, if seeing her interest in others hurts? The entirety of these emotions are confusing me. I made her awkward, uncomfortable, the girl I had been so cool with.

She told me I was interrogating.

Me? Tiny little me? No one would be intimidated. I felt so confused.

This person I had been so comfortable with had judged me after all. I was grasping at the strings of happiness. It tore me. Not the rejection, but the judgement. The fact she was so uncomfortable with me now.

I tried to apologize. But when I was talking, she started to walk away. She didn’t even stay near me long enough for me to promise to never put her in that kind of situation again.

Now there is nothing. Very little words, response, she doesn’t talk to me. I have to talk to her. Ks are the ice picks in the heart of the messaging world, and I am bleeding out.

She says don’t worry. I worry too much. We are still cool. She does that with everyone. But it wasn’t like that when she thought she liked me. It confuses me. I am not used to people changing who they are, how they act, unless they don’t want that person around anymore.

I never meant for this to happen. I wish I could turn back time and play it cool. Not go after her. Not be there the day she stole my breath. Not kiss her. Let it all grow.

But where is it going now? Have I completely lost it all?