Enjoy my badly spelling, typo ridden, repetitive, inelegant feels on PRIDE and Orlando and being queer.
Pledge to my patreon and read about the time I started dating who idiots in one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life and how that relates to my busted iphone.
“This piece of hardware holds the only times Ian ever told me he loved me. And then when he took it back. When he called please don’t leave over his shoulder. Of course, the woman is expected to wait on the men to get their feelings and egos in order for them to be kind. If this is what I have to do for men to be kind to me, none of you possess a kindness I need.
This phone holds every time James assured me that he was still my friend. When he said he was attracted to me. When he pushed boundaries by joking about living together and demanded to see my writing. It held my calendar of dates, stored all of my art projects, and organized the photos they sent me in digital albums – time stamped for easy access. James in bed with a pouty face, Ian wearing a pokemon hat, videos of James with his dog —I saved them all, taking up more and more digital space on my 8 gig device that ran slower and slower and slower.” Read more here!