Search Results: ask her more than once

IMAGINE THIS SCENARIO: You and a boy have always been more than friends.. a quiet understanding, late-night talks, little gestures that blur the line. He finally says it outright and proposes something real. You care about him, but you’re not sure, so you ask for time.

That same week he goes out, drinks too much, and dials you. Your phone is already engaged with a call from another guy.. your best friend, nothing romantic, but it’s a long vent-session you don’t want to cut off. (Your guy) calls again. And again (10+ times). You see his name flash, your stomach knots, and you let it ring out because you’re not ready to face his voice right then.

He switches to text: IG, WhatsApp, short messages that get more urgent. You read them, guilt prickling, but you don’t answer. Confused and irritated, you block him everywhere like shutting a door to buy a minute of quiet.

Later the day you felt the guilt is louder than the fear. You unblock just enough to call. It rings, once, twice, and then voicemail. You wait for his call back... nothing comes.

The next day you hover over the unblock button. Part of you wants to explain: “I was on another call, I panicked.” Part of you freezes.. what if he leaves me on read? What if he says he’s done, that he’s moved on? That dread sits heavy, stealing sleep. You replay his silence, wonder if he’s already talking to someone else, feel the shame of your own avoidance.

"5 months have passed" (You were still waiting to fix) & beneath it all, another question: maybe you’re not just scared, maybe you really do need time and space to understand what you want before you try to fix what you broke.

I've done some thinking and I've realized that my parents never raised me. They provided all the time but they didn't teach me things, spend time with me and when they did, my father never had 1 nice word, and when I say not 1 nice word, I mean not 1 nice word.

Every time, he scolds me over the tiniest thing and side-eye's at me, praying he finds something to scold me for again.

My mom is entirely submissive to him and joins in, despite her actually showing that she cares for me, unlike my dad who if my mom left him, would've been more than happy to leave me and my brother to fend for ourselves.

For this reason, it has been 16 years since I ate at a dinner table with them. I always took food to my room to avoid my fathers threats to beat me, him yelling at me me to shut up when I asked how his day was, and since my mom always got home hours after he did, he could treat me as bad as he wanted.

Once I grew and started going to the gym, his threats stopped. But his scolding remains, I dream of punching him in the face and telling him he's the worst father in the world.

I'm at my wits end with my father, I hate being around him, he's angry, he never says one nice thing and he's even gone as far as to ask my mother if I even need my medicine for my Cystic Fibrosis.

I am only just now realizing on my own, all that I missed out on from them giving up on me making it to 20 years old when I was born with Cystic Fibrosis. I love my mother, she's stood by me through everything but she just didn't have it in her to raise me at all.

She never even tried to raise me, she just insulted me until I was too big. And once I became a gun owner, he became afraid of me.

He should be, he pressed his hand against my head, calling me an embarrassment of a son and warning me not to test him as his breath reeked of beer one night camping when I was 11. If he did that again now, I'd show him who the weak one always was: Him

Did your parents raise you?