2020.09.26 10:56 AsianParmAsian Camera hookup hidden grindr
This is a very long post telling the different kinds of relationships I've had with gay guys, whether platonic, romantic, or sexual, I have never seen any of these men again.
As a Hispanic bi guy, I feel like I know when and where to complain about certain things. I can take alot of verbal shit from people just because I usually talk back with wit, humor and cuntiness or just not give a shit about what most people think. But I take things personally usually when it regards someone close to me or any homophobia from my family.
For some context: I am a 20 year old college dropout that majored in music, I got outed to my parents about not being the "good Christian straight boy" they raised back in early January, and ever since then they would blame alot of my actions in 2019 as a reason for my depression and failed grades. I raised my GPA back up this May and did not return this Fall because continuing my music performance major is a terrible idea right now. So I picked up doordash and am currently saving up to find a place of my own because I need it for my own mental health.
2020.08.23 17:41 MansA23Aug1l Grindr hookup hidden camera
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2020.03.08 19:54 ayu1234 He broke up with me because he did not like my best friend
Ok, so we met on grindr and hit it off really well. Out personalities totally meshed even though we were opposites in some ways. We were both really into each other, conversations were light and smooth, there was flirting, etc. We enjoyed each others company for the next few days, and I could tell he really liked me, for example he handed me his keys and told me to start the car while I waited, or he noticed my sink was kinda plugged so he offered to fix it, yah he was definately hooked.
Then my best friend David called, and during the convo I mentioned the name David (the friends name on the phone. I hung up and Emil asked me if it was David from grindr ..... and he gave me a description. Long story short David messaged Emil a year ago, and it was in his desperate for sex phase, so he asked Emil if he wanted to hookup. Anyway apparently there was no reply at the time .... but back in reality Emil was furious that I was friends with David, and he basically stormed out.
After a week of no communication, I had a convo with Emil today. and he says he wants to distance himself because I am friends with David. I explained to him that David is a sweet guy outside of grindr and that I have never been sexually interested in him. I mentioned that he shouldn't judge only based on a grindr profile. BTW, this guy is 30 years old, I am 27.
This seems pretty rediculous and immature to me, is there a hidden meaning behind it or is he really just being an idiot? What do you guys think?
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2019.11.21 17:13 FindMeBlue Grindr hookup hidden camera
It's been a month now and I still can't get you out of my mind. You were only supposed to be a hot Grindr hookup, seeing as how you were only visiting from Raleigh for your cousin's wedding. Turns out, you'd be the first guy I've caught feelings for.
You see, I've been pretty deeply closeted my whole life up until recently when I moved away from my family. There are still important people in my life who don't know I'm gay, and I keep telling myself that I'll come out to everyone fully if I can ever find a guy to date that can inspire me to do so. For the friends that I've confided my sexuality with, this is an obvious excuse to delay telling everyone indefinitely until I'm 'ready'. I'm just not that type of person, I guess. Everything was working out fine and I've lived pretty comfortably with my "gay friends" who are completely hidden from the rest of my life. They don't mind -- they understand. I've been disciplined enough to not even entertain the possibility that any guys that I've met could be someone I want to date romantically.
Unfortunately, you came along and kind of ruined all of that. The two of us got dinner together and we talked about our childhood, growing up gay, books we've read, videogames we play, the work we do, the music we like. Everything just flowed so naturally. You were supposed to leave after dinner to hang out with your other friends who live in Bellevue, but you claimed that one of them wasn't feeling well and cancelled on the night. I have a hunch that you made that up in order to go out in Cap Hill with me, but maybe I'm kidding myself.
The night was awesome. We drank, we danced, ate some chimichangas from the street vendor, drank more, danced together on the sidewalk, and ended up at your Airbnb. I'm sorry I passed out so soon -- I only had 4 hours of sleep from the night before -- but waking up naked and cuddled in your arms was a pleasant surprise. My normally anxious mind felt a weird mixture of calm and excitement. We fooled around a little bit, but I didn't have much energy due to the pounding hangover I had. I'm sorry for that, too. Thanks for walking with me towards my car, despite how chilly it was.
I keep beating myself up over something that I might have done that you thought was sloppy since I was pretty drunk. I tried texting you a day after you flew back home. You responded, but it was obvious from your polite answers that you weren't trying to continue the conversation. I think about you often, even though I need to accept that you probably don't think of me at all. It's frustrating and stupid how crazy I've been feeling over this and how many times I've considered texting you. I even put "DO NOT TEXT" next to your name in my phone to avoid bothering you. I know I'll get over this eventually, but I can't help wishing I could go back to that weekend and replay everything. It's been a month now and I just want to reconnect with you.
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2019.11.11 21:09 thundercat88 Camera grindr hookup hidden
I'm researching the murder of a man named John Shakespeare.
There is a LOT involved in this case, if you want all the details you can listen to the initial investigation here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/72-shake-it-up-murder-in-the-midwest/id1204749824?i=1000423970546
Or you can read about some of it here:
So basically John Shakespeare was a 69 year old man who was found in his basement, his hands were tied together, his feet were tied together, and he was handcuffed to a pipe or a pole of some kind. His head was wrapped in towels, and he was shot in the head. He was very wealthy and yet nothing major was stolen.
Throughout our investigation we've identified upwards of 15 possible suspects and several different motives. It could have been a hate crime; John Shakespeare was a gay man. It could have been revenge; he was an Explorer Scout leader and there were many rumors of possible pedophile behavior & the man who ran the group with him is now in prison for sexual abuse of a minor. It could have been financially motivated; possibly he had hidden money that was stolen. It could have been a serial killer; John Wayne Gacy and a man named Don Kennedy Majors were both suspects at one time.
The police did not do a great job with this case. Evidence went missing, they didn't test to see if he had been sexually assaulted, they didn't follow up on important leads. They were investigated years later for misconduct in several cases in the area.
What I would like help with, if you have any information at all, is in finding a place where I could research a publication from the 70's called the "Odyssey Classifieds." The Odyssey Classifieds were a part of the Odyssey Club based in Beverly Hills CA and was essentially Grindr for the 70's. Men could pay to submit what they were looking for (hookup, relationship, penpal) and their contact info. John Shakespeare was 100% a member of the Odyssey Club, he was a subscriber to the classifieds, and one month before his murder he paid for two lines in the publication.
Don Kennedy Majors committed a murder (and was convicted for it) in Southern Illinois around the same time AND he was known to use magazine publications to seek out victims to exploit.
I would absolutely love to get more information on the Odyssey Classifieds-- unfortunately I can't find anything online and the Beverly Hills Public Library didn't have anything either.
If anyone has any information at all that they can share with me about this case it would be greatly appreciated.
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2019.11.07 01:00 rr90013 Camera grindr hidden hookup
Lots of people who are “sex positive” say that casually hooking up is a wonderful thing because we can enjoy sex without worrying about baggage, etc. That’s a fair perspective.
I just had the realization though that most people I know who frequently hook up are doing it surreptitiously and with an implied sense of shame (which they themselves admit). From this perspective, hooking up with Grindr strangers and then ghosting them furthers this unhealthy mindset that sex is something shameful and should be hidden, and that we can avoid the shame of sex by being anonymous and not having to see your sex partner’s face (and experience their emotions and personality) the next day. In this sense, anonymous hookups are thus sex-negative.
So to be sex positive, we should freely have sex with people we care about, and not have any fear of seeing them the next day or keeping them as part of our lives moving forward. Whether that sex is exclusive or not is up to you; whether that sex is just once with a guy or many times is up to you.
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2019.03.05 20:45 trendymikkyxx Grindr hookup hidden camera
Met this guy about a month ago, it was supposed to be just a hookup and he ended up spending the night. We kept in touch and he said he wanted more but his actions speaks otherwise. 1. He is very DL which I find a problem because I don’t wanna be hidden 2. He says I shouldn’t be on the App but I have seem him on the App and even messaged with a fake profile in which he responded and wanted to meet.(I haven’t confronted him as we are not an item yet) 3. He ghosts for days and replies to my message after a few days.
Now the one that led me to my breaking point was that I called him on Friday he didn’t pick up. Then on Saturday nite, I saw he was online on whatsapp, I messaged to say I called and you didn’t acknowledge my call or txt to say anything. No response. Checked on Grindr he was active and online. So i just didn’t bother calling or messaging again. Today, Tuesday he just messaged to say he is trying to call me he can’t get through and checking how I was. I don’t intend to reply at all and I am thinking of just blocking him. What do you all think?
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2019.02.24 23:26 DontKnowDontAsk2 Grindr hookup hidden camera
Hi guys. My previous posts was about trying to know about being with a guy.
on the evening of 19th of Feburary, I decided to download Grindr to give a go - and it was MIND BLOWING -
Curse the homos who told me Grindrs are mostly perverts and old men - You guys are "Insert specific English meatball dish popular in Midland of UK.
I will give the app a 10/10. With its only flaws being the explore function which is pretty useless anyway.
First - Grindr is litrually THE MOST addictive shit I've ever done. I would say I am 100% more hooked up with the app than the actual hookups I had.
In the last 5 days. These happened
1 - I stopped going to the gym (previously 4-5 times a week)
2 - I stopped eating food (no apetite, only gets hungry late at night, even then I wasent able to eat much - like 5 small samosas will make me full, 1/3 of my usual meal)
3 - I stopped playing videogames . (usually around 2 - 5 hours a day depends）Showed no interest. I even skipped a LAN party which I was really looking forward to.
4 - I stopped being active on existing social media.
5 - I was not able to fall asleep. Even when I do it doesnt last long. I did not sleep on Tuesday night, then slept between 4-6 hours everyday since. My cycadian rytheme is completely fucked up npw.
6 - I didnt study or prepare for my upcoming assignments... will start tomorrow I promise,
7 - I stopped being able TO GET HARD. I noticed it on Wednsday I was not able to get it up (as many guys are asking me for my dic pic) and I thought it was caused by the lack of sleep (and probably it is).
or - my penis is confused with the situation of being with guys. My mind is ready but my balls had other things in mind.
or - my parents casted a spell on me at birth - If I ever end up with dirty thoughts with men, I will be cursed with chastity.
Next on my shopping list - Dick pump and Viagra.
8 - I started likling to see dicks. So I was friendly even to the guys who sent me dick pics. Then you realise they arn't really freaky perverts, just honry.
9 - LONG and SOPHISTICATED discussion about anime... Talking about anime with gay people is SO GOOD because straight weebs are always like "XXX is waifu material, Harem genre is the best" kind of shit. I want to talk to people about anime as a literature works, plot progression, character development and hidden messages etc.
That been said - I did encounter a FEW rude / weird people, excluding catfish like myself (lying about my age, im actually 28 but saying im 25, which is ironic because I look like 21, never-aging face)
1 - A bottom who instantly blocked me when I didn't send him dick pic (told him I dont have any).
2 - A guy who lived 10 min walk away from me. Nice chat, he was crazy asking me to bondage and humiliating him, wanted to come my place. Sent him the address, he said he will be on his way and then blocked me. (what? did some people just use me to dirty talk for their fantasy.... thats actually really conservative)
3 - A reverse catfish - UGLY photo, yakk, seriously. But he has a hotbod and was super nice, so I decided to meet him. When he showed up - eeehhk, look better than the photo, terrible choice of clothing. When he took off his clothe and glasses - HOLY FCK MOLY HE IS HOOOOT. (it was my first hook up as well) (he also has a 6 inch dick and he thinks that is small, mine is 5.5 though so FCK)
Yeah. Probably dont have time for the hook experience. Maybe it deserves another post im dead tired now. Got work tomorrow. But basically I hooked up with two bot and wasent able to get hard, but they are both nice and settled for cuddle. Tried to take a dick bt wouldnt work, and didnt enjoy sucking dick either cos it felt like a wax candle in my mouth.
Third - and most importantly -
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2019.02.03 03:50 -TheInspector- Complete Me
I guess I’ll preface this with a quick disclaimer: I hate Valentine’s Day. I’m not sure whose bright idea it was to remind bachelors like me how painfully single we are by shoving hearts and flowers and cutesy kissing couples in our faces. We’ve officially turned love into a commodity, something you can buy in boxes of chocolate and expensive jewelry, and it’s sickening. I know I’m hardly the first person to complain about how fucking commercial it is. It just pisses me off is all.
Am I bitter? Maybe just a little. Truth is, I used to love the holiday, at least back when I had a steady boyfriend to spend my money on. Everything seems so much rosier when you’ve got a warm body to cuddle up with on cold nights - someone to spoil with little love trinkets and stolen kisses. It’s only when you don’t have that anymore that you realize how shallow it all is.
I won’t name that particular ex, in case he happens to be reading this. We parted on relatively good terms and I’d rather not drag his name through the mud. Our breakup kind of soured me on romance in general though. Besides, I was going through a big life transition - moving all the way to the east coast to start my post-college career - and it was probably for the best that I didn’t have a relationship to sidetrack me.
The problem is this: being single sucks. As much as I disparage the commercial trappings of romance, it does get lonely when you get home from a long day at the office and there’s no one there to greet you when you come in. Plus the obvious lack of physical comforts. There’s no shortage of Boston locals looking for easy hookups, and I’ll admit, I’ve gone that route myself on more than one occasion. Empty sex is just that, though. Empty.
So lately my relationship with relationships has been complicated, to say the least. Especially now that Valentine’s Day is looming and I just know the office is going to be decked out in paper hearts and blinding shades of pink before the week is up. Sandra, who has the cubicle next to mine, is already wearing heart-shaped earrings and listening to sappy love songs while she works. Ten bucks she’s got a boyfriend to keep her warm when she gets home. Not that I’m jealous or anything.
Anyway, the point is, I was already feeling kind of shitty about my love life when I got the email. The office was emptying out and I was wrapping up a last minute spreadsheet when my inbox pinged. Sure it was just my project coordinator or something, I clicked over to my email to skim the message. It wasn’t my coordinator. In fact, it was from an address I didn’t recognize at all: a string of gibberish letters at a domain called “ng.net.” I would have deleted it as spam, but something about the subject line made me pause.
SUBJECT: Jonathan, I miss what we used to have.
I knew spambots could fill in your name to any number of phishing templates, but there was something weirdly personal about this one, and I found my finger hesitating over the mouse. I would be in deep shit if this email flooded my work computer with viruses. But I couldn’t shake the notion that my ex had sent the message, as stupid as that sounds, and I didn’t want to delete the thing without at least taking a peek.
I clicked on the email and regretted it immediately.
i still remember watching you in the light of the purple moon the way ashes fluttered on your breath like flecks of forgotten things and the way your hair rested on the pillow all rumpled and brown i just want to run my hands through that hair again
oh jonathan i can’t stop thinking about you the way you bite your lip when you’re working at your cubicle the way your skin is flushed on cold walks through the city the way you masturbate in the dark when no one else is watching how i want to touch you just once just one more time
i want you to fill me i want to feel you inside me i want you to complete me jonathan help me feel complete
My face went red and I clicked DELETE so hard I thought I might break my mouse. I craned my neck to make sure no one had been reading over my shoulder, then shut down my computer and hastily got my things to leave. Suddenly I didn’t feel safe anymore. This hadn’t been spam - it was too specific, too close to home. I didn’t think it was my ex either. Someone was watching me, and might have been watching me for awhile.
Could it have been one of my previous hookups? Someone who’d gotten a little too attached? I didn’t know how else to explain the whole line about touching me “just one more time.” But the part about the purple moon and the ashes on my breath was so weird and unsettling that I wasn’t sure what to think.
I could have asked one of my coworkers to walk with me to the train station, just in case, but only Barbara from accounting was still hanging around and it probably would have weird for a strapping young man like myself to ask for a bodyguard. I tried to tell myself I was just being paranoid. Besides, everyone was leaving work right about now, and Boston would be packed with people on my way home. I’d be safe in the crowd.
I hate how it gets dark here around 4 pm in the winter, but at least I’m used to it; it’s pretty much the same back in Washington. The sky was already turning gray when I left the office. I joined the swarm of pedestrians and headed down the street toward Haymarket. It’s been fucking freezing lately and that day was no exception. I hunkered in my scarf and jacket and worked my way forward as quickly as the crowd would allow.
I probably wouldn’t have noticed the weird guy in the black hoodie if I hadn’t looked up at the exact right second. I was just passing Faneuil Hall and there was a street performer playing drums on a set of plastic buckets. I turned my head to watch him play, and that was when I locked eyes with a man standing by the Samuel Adams statue. His face was mostly hidden underneath his hood, but I could see his eyes clear as day, and they were a bright, vivid purple. He was staring right at me. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought he might have been smiling.
I pushed through the crowd, apologizing profusely. When I looked back, the guy in the hood was still staring at me. He lifted a gloved hand and offered me a slight wave. I turned back around, heart thumping, praying I could make it to the green line in one piece.
Thankfully I got there without incident. The train was packed, but I was grateful for the cover; I felt safer surrounded by so many people. We rumbled along on our way to Brighton. I couldn’t help but sneak glances at my fellow passengers, hoping I wouldn’t find the man in the hoodie staring back at me. I hated that I was getting so paranoid. But after that fucked up email, what else was I supposed to do?
The hooded man, whoever he was, didn’t show his face again that day. But I couldn’t shake the sense that he was still watching me somehow.
It wasn’t that I was feeling especially horny. I just didn’t want to be alone. My roommate was out for the weekend and the idea of spending two days by myself while some creep was out there stalking me wasn’t the most appealing prospect. At this point I’d take the comfort of a stranger over that kind of isolation.
The jock showed up at my apartment around 9 o’ clock. He had a tiny hoop earring, a neck tattoo, and platinum blond hair with a single streak of green. A little more out there than my usual type, but at least he was fit. We never actually exchanged names. In my head he was a “Travis.”
We made out for a bit, did some other things I’m totally not going to share online, and spent the rest of the night cuddling and watching Netflix. He didn’t talk much, which I was grateful for. Most of the time you can tell when a brief connection isn’t going to grow into anything more. Travis was there, and he was gentle, and fun, and just the kind of distraction I needed. That was good enough for me.
I invited him to stay the night - partly because I wasn’t going to kick the guy out into subzero weather, but mostly because I wanted someone to hold while I was sleeping. Even in dreamland, I didn’t want to be alone. He preferred to be the big spoon, so I nestled up against him, holding his hand as I fell asleep.
I don’t remember what I dreamed about that night, if I dreamed at all. All I know is I woke up in the early hours of the morning and I wasn’t holding Travis’s hand anymore. Traces of gray sunlight lit up the far side of my bedroom, and there was a thick, heavy feeling in the air, like a blanket of heat without the warmth. I took a sniff and was instantly nauseated by the nastiest stench that had ever crossed my nostrils: something like raw meat mixed with sewage.
I turned to look at Travis, but what I saw on the other side of the bed brought a scream to my throat, along with a good amount of bile. Travis had been mauled. His face was a pulpy mess, his chest cavity ripped open like a bomb had gone off inside his guts. Blood was splattered everywhere: all across the walls and bedsheets and the crappy t-shirt I’d worn to bed. There was this weird black gunk sprayed over everything, too, but I couldn’t tell what the substance was supposed to be. I scrambled out of bed and vomited into the corner, my whole body shaking.
I had no idea who else had been in my apartment last night, or why they’d murdered Travis but left me alone. All I knew was that I had to call the police. I grabbed my jeans off the floor and fumbled through the pockets for my cell phone. But when I dialed 9-1-1 and held the phone up to my ear, the only thing I heard was a deep, heavy breathing.
“Who the fuck is this?” I shouted.
The person at the other end of the line spoke. Or at least I assumed it was a person - their voice was garbled and a bit robotic, like they were speaking through a vocoder or something. It made my head throb with pain.
“Oh Jonathan it pained me to see you with another how terrible that made me feel how absolutely spurned and jaded I couldn’t stand to see him holding you like that so I did what I had to do I had to show you that he could never love you the way I love you oh Jonathan how I want you to be with me to fill me up to complete me -”
“Leave me alone!” I screamed. Tears were running down my face now, and I was at the point of incoherence. “Leave me the fuck alone!”
“I will never stop Jonathan I will follow you to the ends of the earth until at last we can be together we can be one soul one being one beating heart -”
I hung up the phone and threw it into the corner. Then I curled up on the floor and clutched my knees to my chest, trying and failing not to cry. I couldn’t look at the mangled mess on my bed that used to be Travis. This was my fault. I’d dragged someone totally innocent into my fucked up nightmare and now he was dead because of me. He’d probably had plans for the weekend, or a term paper to write for college, or a big lacrosse game coming up or something. I’d never asked. Now I’d never know.
Trying to call someone was obviously a bust, and I couldn’t stick around here for long. The stench from Travis’s corpse was threatening to make me vomit again. Besides, sticking around here when a stalker had already murdered someone in my bed was borderline suicidal. I hastily pulled off my bloodstained t-shirt and threw on some clean clothes. Then I grabbed my backpack and shoved in a handful of necessities. It was early, but I could probably catch a Greyhound out of South Station if I booked it. Boston didn’t feel like the safest place for me to be right now.
I didn’t want to leave the body for my roommate to find when he got back, but there was no chance in hell I was going to try and move it. If I could find a working phone somewhere along the way I’d try reaching the police again. That was the extent of my advance planning, though. I was too focused on the now - on getting the fuck out of here while I still had my legs attached - to worry about what came next.
When I was satisfied that I’d packed everything I needed, I swung the backpack over my shoulder and booked it downstairs. Then I headed out into the frigid winter morning. The sun was just barely coming up over the tops of the apartments across the street, and everything was quiet; I could only hear the clomping of my footsteps and the rumbling of distant traffic. I kept craning my neck to look behind me. There was no one else walking the sidewalks at this hour, but my neck was prickling, and I wasn’t sure if someone was actually watching me or if I was being paranoid. I shifted my backpack and quickened my pace.
The Boston College stop was only a few blocks away, and I figured I could get there before the sun came up completely. Then I heard it: the light patter of shoes on pavement. I turned around, nervous breaths billowing from my mouth in the cold, and saw a man in a black hoodie strolling along the sidewalk. At first I let myself believe it was just someone out for a brisk morning walk. Then the stroll turned into a stride, covering several feet with each gangly step, and I felt my heart leap in my chest. I turned around and began to run.
The stranger’s footsteps had changed from light patters to earth-shaking thuds, like his shoes were slamming into the pavement. I clutched at the straps of my backpack and ran as fast as I could - even when I felt cramps developing in my side, even when I clipped the edge of my jacket on a loose tangle of fence. There was no one on the street to cry out to. No cops waiting on the corner to save me. If the train wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived, then I was fucked, plain and simple.
I dared one more look behind me and nearly stumbled flat on my face. The man in the hoodie… he was changing. His body was unfolding like an envelope, his face turning waxy like a dummy, his chest bursting open to reveal a grisly red-and-black interior. The black was the same goop I’d seen in my apartment; the red was a pulsing cluster of human hearts. There must have been twenty or more stuffed into his chest cavity. They were still beating, still pumping out streams of thick red blood, and they throbbed as one when they saw me looking back.
we can be together we can be one soul one being one beating heart -
I shuddered, swallowed some bile, and forced myself to go a little faster. I could see the green line train approaching the station just up ahead. The sight sent such a surge of relief through me that I think I started laughing and sobbing at the same time. I leaped off the sidewalk, narrowly missing a passing car, and hurried onto the platform. The trolley doors were just hissing open as I ran up.
I hurtled inside, breathing heavily, and swiped my Charlie card across the scanner. The doors began to close - too slow, far, far too slow. I ignored the stares of the other passengers as I clambered to the back of the carriage and took a seat. I couldn’t keep myself from glancing nervously out the window. The train lurched forward, rumbling its way along the track, leaving behind a solitary figure on the platform.
He looked like a person again, just an ordinary man in a black hoodie. But I’d seen the thing inside of him. Whatever was standing out there, it wasn’t human. It never had been. It stared at me with those weirdly purple eyes as the train picked up speed and left it standing in the cold. I turned away from the window and tried to breathe normally again.
This all happened this morning. I’m writing this from the back of a Greyhound bus, huddled up in my winter jacket and keeping a watchful eye on the other passengers. I haven’t seen the figure in the black hoodie since I left Boston. I haven’t gotten any more threatening emails, or taken any menacing calls on my phone. I’m not naive enough to believe this is over, though.
I will never stop Jonathan I will follow you to the ends of the earth until at last we can be together.
Not going to lie, I still get chills thinking about those words. But I have to try and escape. Maybe I’m an idiot for thinking I can outrun this thing. Maybe it’s going to always be at my back until it decides to show itself again. Maybe one day I’ll wake up to find that hideous cavity of beating hearts opening up to consume me. Life’s a ticking clock now. I don’t know how long I’ve got left. But you’d damn well better believe I’m going to outlast this thing as long as I can.
I can’t tell you where I’m going, in case he happens to be reading this. Just know that I’m going somewhere safe. And maybe, if I’m lucky, somewhere I won’t be alone.
submitted by -TheInspector- to DavidFarrowWrites [link] [comments]
2018.10.17 04:14 kevin_111_ My husband (31M) constantly lies and I (26M) don't know what to do anymore.
My Husband (31M) and I (26M) have been together for 6 years, married for 5 years. Right after we got married I realized my husband was not being honest with me. At first it was seemingly small things, lying about names of ex-boyfriends and such. I soon learned that he was restoring his forskin and he had been hiding it from me our entire relationship. I was angry about being lied to and I didn't understand the process. My reaction may have turned him onto lying to me as a defense. He still restores but only does it behind my back and will not be honest about it. He lied about work functions, not taking me as a guest. later I discovered it was because he didn't want coworkers to know he was married to a man. I was hurt again. Then I found a condom wrapper in our bedroom (we don't use condoms together) and I threw it away in shock. Later my husband saw it in the trash can and hid it in a sock drawer because he didn't know I found it and didn't want me to see it. He claims he only used it to Jerk-off in and no-one else was there. I had only been married about 2 months and didn't want my marriage to end so soon so I ignored it all.
More issues followed. He tired to hook up with exes on work trips. He lied about who he was hanging out with and what they were doing. He has ordered sex toys online and hidden them in our ceiling. He consistently downloaded apps that gave him a second phone number such as Hushed and Burner on work trips. I caught him lying about spending hundreds of dollars paying websites to write his college papers for him. Every time I confronted him about these issues he attacked me and made me seem like I was crazy for thinking he was being dishonest. Eventually convincing me I needed counseling for my trust issues. I had never had trust issues in any other relationship, but I had also never been married so I was willing to do anything to try to fix us. We had only been married a year at this point.
About one year ago, after struggling in our relationship, we decided that since we both travelled often for work, one of us needed to quit and stay home. I quit my job to save our relationship. We moved and purchased our first home together right after.
After living in our new home for 6 months, I picked up his phone while I was setting the table for dinner, I discovered he was sexting with multiple people on 4 different apps. The next day I discovered that for 2.5 years he had a reddit account he was using to post photos and videos of himself nude. He also had a Chaturbate account that he encouraged his Tumblr and Reddit followers to watch him on. As well as evidence of at least two Physical hookups on Grindr.
After being confronted he cried and begged me to stay that he loved me and he never wanted to hurt me. Having just spent our life savings on a house that we couldn't turn around and sell right away, I agreed to 6 months of counseling to try to sort things out. He has claimed that I knew everything that he had been doing and he had nothing else to hide. Since then I have found an Xtube account, more aliases he has gone by and more apps he has used to meet people in the local area. He has shown no progress of being any more honest since the day I caught him.
My question is, after seeing such a long pattern of dishonesty and after trying to get professional help yet seeing no results, what do I do? Is there any hope in him changing his behavior? Should I just leave? Do you have advice that may be able to help me?
submitted by kevin_111_ to relationship_advice [link] [comments]