Relationships, as usual.

Time for me to explain my relationships and other silly stuff. Grey, man, you’ll look back at this and hopefully smile. Honestly though, as I talk about everything I’ll be randomly skipping subjects and other points.
I’ll start off with my first girlfriend, who I honestly, painfully have to admit was eye-opening for me. Nonetheless absolute hell, but it’s the truth.
Experience was something I needed.

The relationship literally caved in on itself the first two weeks. We’ll call her ‘E’. I’d do ‘S’, for Satan, but, ah. E.
So, E, I had thought, was my first and only love. Someone I relied on, cared for, assisted, and would do anything for. Her mother was, uhm. To say the least, her mother was not the most honest human being on the planet. I shrugged it off, not realizing just how much of a hint that was at E’s true colors. Skip to the first two months.
Hoooooly f*ck.
Not to pick on- rather, to put it into perspective- she was living off of gas money, her family is split into three pieces of a cake that was metaphorically sculpted with pure magma- you get it. Things were always heated, you could say. Not to mention that her father, halfway through our relationship, was released from a high-security prison after seven more or less unchanging years of solitude. Her father liked me- so much so, that in private he’d attempt at showing me how to accelerate into fucking hyperdrive on a two-lane highway, teach me how to make ‘prison bricks’ (literally like ten bags of ramen noodles pounded into a brick shape via trash bag), and how to defend yourself. (He hits like a snake. Because snakes don’t have arms. That’s practically the same thing. How funny, Greyson.) Among, uh. A few things.

Skip a long while, and I’ve come long from realizing how long I was from actually understanding ‘love’. No, no. That was lust. That was desperation for something I’d watch my friends acquire and promptly envy. I was looking for anyone, not a specific person. I can definitely confirm that I learned the hard way.
Annnnd, I could say about 2016 or so, I found her. I really, truly believe I found her. I don’t know if I’m just under the spell until it wears off, or whatever, but this person knows me. I’ll be honest with myself, though. I’m aware, I’m conscious. I have so little control when I’m not focused that I can slip into a person like her and become mentally dependent. I mean, f*ck. One day I thought I’d lost her and I spent hours crying and wailing, walking up and down the length of the house like an idiot, contemplating hurting myself or not. I actually feel like she’s the only thing keeping me sane. Without her, another person like me- A person who’s aware, conscious of who they are, what they do -I feel alone. I don’t know why I categorize and label every person I get to know. I get it. “Grey, bruh. That’s not cool. Don’t label people.” I know, I know. It’s not right- it’s rude. Well I apologize, but rude or not, most of the time I’m spot on. And, it’s returned to bite me in the ass. I now feel like every single person around me is a robot- or an idiot, or something fake.
And no, please. Please, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to boast, I’m not trying to make myself seem smarter, and more clever. I am in no way whatsoever any higher or more intelligent than those people. BUT THAT ASIDE, I’M GOING OFF TRACK.
As I write this, I’m even receiving texts from her. “Ily”, “Goodnight”, the whole deal.
Here’s my issue.
We’ll call this current girl ‘O’. She’s great. I can’t say I don’t get jealous, or upset or whatever, but I feel like she’s struggling. She doesn’t deserve to go through the things that she does. Panic attacks, depression, whatever the case is, I feel entitled to help her out with what I can. Not like a fatherly sort of thing, like. Lol no. But as a good.. friend, I guess. I don’t know. I’ll never know. Mixed feelings hit me. It’s six in the morning, I’ll write a part two later.

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