Nobody sets out to be in a long distance relationship. No one is like, “I think I’d rather NOT see my significant other that often, but then spend all my money on plane tickets.” But with jobs, school, and amazing opportunities abroad, it’s just so easy to accidentally fall into one. Still, it doesn’t have to mean your relationship is doomed. When both parties are both truly committed and secure with themselves, it can be surprisingly fun to have two places to spend your time. Here are ten reasons to not despair over your LDR:
Nice as it is to share every waking moment with your person, it’s so easy to get caught in that antisocial cycle of comfort and…
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I hate it when a guy asks me to “Tell me what you want.” while we’re hooking up. That’s a dumb fucking question. For future reference, men of the world, I only want one thing, and that is your tongue on my clitoris. If I say anything else in response to this question, it’s because I’m taken aback by the idea that you think I could want anything except that. Wanting anything else has actually not occurred to me until the moment of your asking, and then I’m like, well, fuck, I’m probably supposed to say something like, I don’t know, “I want your huge cock in my wet pussy” or something…
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I was falling and scared. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop myself. It was dark and cold and there seemed to be people around, but I didn’t know any of them. They didn’t seem to care that I was falling either. I could see the ground below me and braced for impact. Just as I hit the pale grey pavement-I…woke up.
Whew. I was damp and disoriented, but as if by instinct, John put his arm around me, still asleep. The weight of his arm was always so comforting. I remember when we first started dating, it didn’t matter if he fell asleep on me in the most uncomfortable position, I wouldn’t move a muscle in fear he would wake and release me from his grip.
The chilly night air pumped its way into our open bedroom window. It couldn’t have been later than 2:00 am. I could…
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Atoms are mostly space. It isn’t profound, basic chemistry we all learned in middle school. This is an atom, it is the building block of life. An entire universe upon these invisible particles we cannot see but trust they exist. Another lesson in blind faith., tiny particles compounding to create our life.
I could feel the space between us, even though you were breathing next to me. Your atoms were miles away, suspended in a dream far too fleeting to include me. Your memories were liquid, empting me out, letting others fill your thoughts.
They used to be for me, but somewhere along the way we sprung a leak. I took on your water, filled myself to save you.
You can’t leave someone like that. Someone whose atoms were whole before they met you. A field filled with flowers as they blossomed in the sun. A warm soul filling the…
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When he makes noise. I have no problem with being vocal myself, but oh my god, when he starts moaning I know it’s really good… excuse me I think I need to go be alone for a moment.
Being caressed gently — touching my face, my hair… Running his hands across my skin — feels amazing and makes me feel delicate.
when they make some comment like “woah, I’ll cum if you keep doing that.” Then it’s like “Challenge accepted!”
After we have sex and I want to go to sleep, my boyfriend tucks me in and kisses my forehead. He then goes on Reddit while I remain in a sex coma.
I know some guys may feel weird about being vocal, heavy breathing/moaning/groaning/saying how incredible something feels, but there is nothing that makes me feel more…
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There are few times in our lives we are uglier than fresh after heartbreak, so that’s a good place to start. We’re reeling and hysterical and compromising every conversation with the news of our failed romance. We are selfish and pathetic and quite possibly the worst version of ourselves. Watch yourself when you’re at your ugliest. Understanding who you are isn’t all about noting all of your positive qualities, although that is important too. You have to understand yourself as a whole person, the good, the bad, the ugly.
Do you quietly calm yourself without telling anybody? Do you take it out on other people? Do you act out physically or violently? These are all signs of what’s brewing underneath your surface, or more so, your grasp on self control.
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Well, that’s not entirely true. I know that part of me is still in Barcelona, where I touched another body and my parents couldn’t say anything about it. It was the first time I felt like I was a real person who had a future that she could decide for herself, and it was too important not to take a little something with it when I left. I made a lot of mistakes that summer, but they were all my own. And that is the only other time I really remember feeling the same way I do when I am around you.
It’s that feeling of weightlessness, that feeling that anything is possible. I know that you are bad for me in the way bad food or excessive alcohol is, and yet, every time you call me, there is something about you which draws me to lie down next to…
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My ex got engaged this weekend. I guess I should have seen it coming.
Somehow, though, it still felt like a slap in the face. After all this time. After I had gotten over the initial sting of seeing him happy with someone else. For so long, I told myself that things could never work out with her, because there was some key ingredient that the two of them did not have together — something which I had kept with me when he left. It was only a matter of time, I thought, until they would break apart.
And then it became clear that they weren’t going to break up, at least not in the satisfying, immediate way I thought they would.
And then they got engaged.
And here I am.
My friend called me to ask if I had seen the news on Facebook, the hundreds of people congratulating…
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I know; I say the same thing. I write about it on my personal blog — the one where people I really know can read me and maybe talk amongst each other about how strong I am. It’s kind of odd how many of my posts over the last few months have been so intensely anti-man. I wonder what it must look like to someone who has never met me. For a few weeks, I thought I would get “misandry” tattooed on my wrist. But I would probably get fired from my job.
“Boys are disgusting.” “I don’t want to put up with yet another manchild’s belated coming-of-age that he has vicariously through me.” Then a bunch of Sylvia Plath quotes. I don’t know, it’s all kind of a mess.
I say that I am working on myself right now, and I am. My job is pretty good, and I…
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