This is just a personal blog post/journal entry. I don't expect anyone else to read this or care if they do. But if you want to just listen to it for 20 minutes. Here ya go. I recommend "Mark - Free" voice at 1.5x speed. Audio version below.
I woke up mentally feeling like shit today because I've been depressed I might have more back problems and the spinal discs in my back might be damaged, potentially causing me to shrink in height. I loathe my body in ways I can't describe. I had Precocious Puberty when I was younger, so I never grew since age ten. I've also had Hypothyroidism almost my entire life and literally didn't even discover this, or knew what this was, until a few years ago. Like, when I was 32 or something. It explained why so many things other were wrong with my body, like an extremely easy weight gain and impossible-to-lose weight loss. Living in America at the time, I couldn't afford $100 a bottle for the Hypothyroidism medicine though, so I never took care of it.
There's other things wrong with me too; small dick, ugly face, dark complexion, etc. My body is like the equivalent of taking a giant Taco Bell shit with the texture of chili, on an art canvas on the floor and calling it a painting. THAT'S how fucked up it is. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get whatever disease Mister Metokur has, because my body has been that shitty my entire life, despite having done track and field in high school, and having done boxing and mixed martial arts since 2012. (Judo, boxing, MMA with an emphasis on muay-thai, and a brief month of Ju Jitsu, in fact.)
Nothing depresses me more than being a fucking manlet, though. That is literally my biggest insecurity. Because it's a sign of pure genetic weakness I literally had no control over. I stopped growing at 180 centimeters at age ten, so I LITERALLY never grew up. I had three "loser" friends in grade school in my childhood. Friends that weren't popular and were bully fodder, but I always stood up for them since they were good people. Dave was a chubby Indian boy, Courtney was a brunette "trailer trash" girl (literally lived in a trailer), and James was a scrawny Korean-American with a smart-ass mouth that'd get him in trouble. There were my sidekicks; my three best friends. Pokemon was popular at the time in 1999, so we called ourselves "The Elite Four."
Guess what happened next? As they got older, they all outgrew me. Figuratively and literally. James stopped at 185 cm, or 6'1". Courtney, a girl, stopped at 183 cm, which is six feet tall. And David stopped at 193 cm, or 6'4". They also all had what Zoomers call a "glow up." David started lifting weights and became an Indian version of Dwayne Johnson by senior year. James became a Korean giga-chad and app developer post-college. And Courtney was attractive enough to become a very successful adult film star. Although this wasn't uncommon in my school, as like half the fucking female student body ended up as sex workers; I'm not kidding. Other girls, who weren't "friends" but classmates, followed similar paths: Tara became a stripper, Katelyn B. became a cam girl with her own website, and Bianca became a stripper/escort and changed her name to "Bunny." Hell, I even briefly worked as a bouncer at a strip club called Delilah's.
However, Courtney was able to become an international star in the industry. Enough to become a multi-millionaire. And while I don't hate sex workers per se, I do acknowledge that they're scumbags, street hustlers, and tend to be pretty awful people from the dregs of society, no different than bootleggers, drug dealers, or your standard ex-convict. Me being in my thirties, I remember a time when sex workers were rightfully shamed and not propped up to be celebrated by shitstain simps and Zoomer-aged whores on social media. I'm not saying sex work makes you a bad person; I'm saying if you're doing sex work, you were most likely already a bad person, to begin with. But Courtney was different.
Courtney was such a sweet girl growing up. The eternal optimist. Even at our worst, Courtney would always be the sunshine on a rainy day. We admired her optimism and kind spirit. When she became a teenager though, puberty hit her like a truck. She developed large breasts for her age in a quick amount of time and grew like four inches over the course of a four-month Summer break, from early June to late September. She was already like 175 cm (5'9") by the time she was 13. She got a lot of attention from boys, at the time. But all she wanted was me. She developed a DEEP crush on me. Like, she was MADLY in love with me, at the time. But I didn't see her that way. Had she been anyone else, she'd have been top-quality girlfriend material, for sure. But I didn't have family growing up. She was the sister I never had. And I wanted to keep it that way, as family is deeper than dating. You don't date your sister! So when she revealed her deep infatuation for me, I told her I didn't reciprocate those romantic feelings for her, and she was heartbroken by it. So devastated, in fact, it likely led her to start seeing other men out of depression, and sleeping with them by the time 9th grade Winter break came around. I feel like I directly led her down the path of her adult film career, and if so, then I'm sorry for that. And while it's true I saw her as the sister I never had and valued that relationship a lot more than a romantic one, she was also basically my height at the time, and that really bothered and intimidated me. Never mind the fact she actually did reach six feet tall by the time she was 16 and actually outgrew me.
Courtney spent years being in the adult film industry and probably won several awards. (No, I've never seen any of her movies. I don't even watch or like porn.) Courtney retired from the industry like ten years ago and became a fitness guru, I literally just checked her social media right now. She has 41,400 followers on TikTok and 10,000 followers on Instagram. Her old career seems to be a distant memory now as she's "living her best life" in L.A.
Like I said, David was basically The Rock but Indian. He moved to India after college and became an action movie star there. James stayed in America and became a tech millionaire developing some kind of ripoff version of Tinder before getting into Crypto. It's funny; I'm actually Walter-fucking-White, more than anything. I just realized that. I'm short. My body is shit. I'm literally even a teacher! All my friends became super-successful, while I'm doing teaching of all things. Not that I hate the job, but it's as lowly and "un-rich" of a job, as you can get. Nobody cares about teachers.
The other Kaitlyn I knew in my life, besides the crazy girl from high school, I had met on a dating site back in January 2012. She was 191 cm (6'3.5") and full figured with blood red hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. She was German-Irish, by ancestry, and grew up in Annapolis, Maryland to a state trooper father and nurse mother. I've spoken about her before on other sites, but the short version is: I saw her on the dating app, and was captivated by her beauty and profile. But I also saw her listed height, and saw her preferences in a man (things I all met, except the core trait she desired: confidence) and nope'd out of talking to her because I didn't think I'd be good enough for her to take an interest in.
On dating sites though, you can see your visitors of your profile, so she saw I visited her, went to my profile, apparently fell in love with it (it was basically an autobiography; as you can see, I have no problem writing a ton of shit,) liked everything about me, and SHE made the first contact message with me online. It was basically "Why didn't you write to me? Was it because I'm not your type?" I had to explain to her I assumed it was the other way around and said she likely wanted some 6'5" blonde-haired Chad I couldn't live up to. She told me how everything she stated about her ideal man were "preferences," and height and ethnicity weren't any of them anyway (which to be fair, was accurate; I had just assumed she wanted a tall handsome white guy, being a super-tall Ginger girl.) She basically called me the most fascinating man she'd ever seen and was thoroughly impressed by my blunt and brutally-honest profile; one that had as many faults and insecurities listed as "selling points."
This led to us exchanging entire books worth of messages to each other. She was the only person who could write as much as me. Every message we exchanged online had to been at least 90 minutes worth of typing. Probably 10+ word-processor-pages worth of messages we'd constantly exchange to each other. If we combined all our messages together, it'd literally be enough to be a book. This eventually led to phone calls two weeks later. The phone calls would last a long time too. The first phone call we had literally lasted all night; began at 11pm Saturday and ended at 7am Sunday. We had talked about so much and had barely scratched the surface. These were deep intellectual conversations about everything from aliens and type 3 civilizations, to the myth of modern American democracy, to the dystopian state of the world we were living in (and this was 2012, before even woke culture and all the Clown World lunacy we've seen since then.) And each conversation naturally flowed into another; it's not like anything had to be planned or rehearsed. We were just mentally and intellectually jacking each other off and it was wonderful. I don't think I ever had an eight-hour phone conversation since I was with her.
After a month of talking, I met Kaitlyn in-person for the first time, at a diner. She got there super early (I was 30 minutes early myself and she was there before me) and was already sitting down in the booth seat. She hugged me from my seat. I learned at the end of the night, this was all so she could avoid having to stand up the whole night. She was almost 6'4" in height, like I said. And was full-figured. She had likely intimidated men away in the past, I'm sure. And she already knew I detested my height, beyond all belief, seeing myself as a short-shit who was robbed of an actual puberty. But I had no problem with her being tall; I was just short.
When I did get her to finally stand up and see her full height, I was amazed by her beauty. It was like looking at the Statue of Liberty. It's ironic in a way, because I fully accepted her height as being super-tall, and she fully-accepted my height, although due to past experiences with just about every other woman I'd talked to up to this point, I couldn't believe her. To her, she didn't see any flaws with the thing I loathed about myself at all, for some reason. She even said she legitimately didn't care about a man's height and had dated as short as 167 cm (5'6") before. But I still didn't believe her. I eventually metaphorically twisted her arm and MADE her tell me her ideal, perfect height preference in a man. She said, if she had to choose, then anything between 5'9" to 6'1" (175-185 cm) would be her "ideal" height range in a man, but ultimately, it was largely irrelevant to her. This made no sense to me, as naturally, wouldn't she want someone taller? She told me her own height doesn't determine what she finds attractive in men; it's their attitude, intelligence, and respect for others, that truly determines if she finds a man attractive or not. ...Which, you know, goes against every other straight woman I'd ever met, who'd date a guy who beats her and treats her like shit if he's 6'4" and fit.
So after the whole, "I love you exactly as you are and you're pretty hot and handsome looking to me" talk (which she honestly did say; she called me a "nine," which still feels like bullshit, to this day), I stopped bringing up my shortness insecurity to her, and we just enjoyed each other's company. However, the one and ONLY thing she disliked about me, was my "lack of confidence." She'd say things like, "you're smart-as-hell, hard working, respectful, funny, witty, talented, etc., you have NO REASON to NOT be confident!" But to me, if I'm less than perfect, I have no reason to think of myself as "confident." To me, confidence meant having no flaws or weaknesses in one's self, and I could never see myself that way, especially being under six feet. I didn't want to be "confident" because I had always conflated the term to mean "perfection." And it seemed like, she was asking me to change who I am to become perfect. Which sometimes, it still kind of feels like, in life.
At the time, I took great offense to her wanting me to "change who I am" and try to become perfect for her benefit. There was a lot of misunderstanding going on there, that it took me YEARS to decipher. She would say, "It's that I DON'T want you to change; that's the problem. You're perfect as you are. Why can't you see that?" And I would read that as, "you're not tall, you're not rich, you're not Giga-Chad, you're not perfect, and you need to be." As if she was saying you're not "worthy" of confidence, until you can show it. Like being tall, good-looking, successful, etc. At the time, that's what I thought she wanted me to become; to be a Chad in order to be worthy of her. But what she truly was saying the whole time was, "You don't need to be perfect to be worthy of loving yourself." Which honestly, even at 37, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around. I guess a lifetime of abuse from a horrible mother and other, less-kind girls who weren't Kaitlyn or Courtney, put doubts in my head. I STILL don't have full "confidence" and still want to get leg-lengthening surgery to reach 6'2". But I do think I have more inner value than I did when I was 25.
Besides these arguments of Kaitlyn basically saying "I love everything about you except your lack of confidence," we got along beautifully. She actually wanted to marry me. And she actually proposed to me. But it was done in the most respectful way possible that a woman could do for a guy. After a particularly beautiful date, she basically sat down in the restaurant chair as I remained standing, held my hands in hers, and asked me, "Will you allow me to be your wife, and be by your side, now and always?" It was an untraditional marriage proposal and didn't involve a ring, but it worked and I agreed to it. I honestly wasn't sure if she even wanted to be with me long-term because of the "confidence" arguments, but the last argument we had on this, she basically said, "I'm not giving up on you. You're too good of a man to not be confident! I'm going to make you see how awesome you are, no matter how long it takes me." Kaitlyn believed in me far more than I did, at the time. Even to the point of wanting to marry me and spend who-knows how many years arguing about my shortness insecurity, inability to "love myself," and all this other stuff. Funny thing was, she was starting to slip through the cracks of my wall. Starting to truly make me believe in myself. This woman was super-high quality and wouldn't be with any old loser, after all, so I had to be doing something right.
Kaitlyn truly was "a unicorn." A truly wonderful woman above all others. Kind, thoughtful, caring, considerate, pragmatic, intelligent, hard-working, sharp witty sense of humor, etc. Things you'd rarely find in a modern woman, these days. She was a realistic person, but conveyed a level of optimism that wasn't just naiveté or cluelessness; it was actual "hard-work positivity" and took true effort from her to remain positive, no matter the day. Like I said, it was real and genuine, not wishy-washy bullshit from someone who had no real problems in life.
I probably would've married her, to be honest. But she died. During this whole time, I was working a shitty security job at an apartment and the housing recession from 2008-2009 was still ongoing and still affecting the economy and job opportunities, even in late 2012. I had to work a double-shift one night cause the piece-of-shit relief never showed up to relieve me of duty. I was supposed to meet Kaitlyn at 11pm for a late-night Saturday "city walk" where we'd spend hours walking though the city and just talking late at night. But because I couldn't leave work and was the only security guy there, I told her I couldn't make it for our planned late-night date. I ended up working a full double-shift, from 3pm Saturday to 7am Sunday morning. That night, Kaitlyn's warehouse apartment caught on fire, and the whole place came down. There were three casualties. She was one of them. I was in shock at what happened, when I woke up Sunday afternoon. But at the same time, it wasn't that surprising at all. Kaitlyn was too good to be true. Knowing my life, something awful HAD to happen to her. But it was just so soon.
This happened just a few days after Halloween, where as a huge Batman fangirl, she'd always dress up as a different Batman character every year. She was female Batman in 2010, then Batgirl in 2011, then Poison Ivy that year. My last picture of her was what she sent me over the phone, dressed in a green bustier and black mask as Poison Ivy. I never had a normal picture of her before her death. She also died just one month after her little sister, Juliet, got married herself. It was devastating, for sure. But I was not new to bad news and life fucking me over, so it wasn't that shocking to me. I just figured, we'd at least get a year's worth of marriage out of it before something like this would happen, but I wasn't even given that. I hate that this happened to her and part of me still blames the asshole who never showed up to my job, as if he did, she wouldn't have been home that night the apartment complex caught on fire. We'd be living in a whole different timeline if not for one asshole not doing his fucking job.
Kaitlyn died November 4th, 2012 at the age of 22. She was wise beyond her years and had she lived to 2024, would probably have a million+ followers on Instagram and TikTok by now, as a plus-size social media influencer doing dance videos, memes, and stuff. That would've been her shit, for sure! She just missed the "Instagram girl" era.
Post-college and after Kaitlyn's passing, I did some stuff. Got into executive protection, had to babysit a bunch of bullshit celebrities at concerts like Katy Perry and Lady Gaga (only at concerts though; I wasn't their permanent staff.) And worked at some banks as a security officer just standing around all day, not doing jack-shit. In January 2015, I went back to college to get my Masters since the Bachelor's wasn't landing me any work. Got wrongfully expelled by being falsely named and MeToo'ed (without sex even being involved.) Filed a lawsuit against the university and had to start all over at a new college in Fall 2016, losing almost two years worth of academic progress. After two and a half years, settled out of court for some bullshit "tuition refund" cause my lawyer didn't want to be assed anymore, and got nothing for all of the time lost from that fucking university. Finally got my Masters in English only in Spring 2019; that was only five fucking years ago. I was 32 at the time! You know how old that is?! So yeah, due to some bullshit, I lost a lot of career time in my life. During all these events, I met a couple other friends.
One girl in 2015 was an assistant manager at a boardwalk bar/club I applied to do security at. Her name was Taylor. And like every other girl-Taylor in the world, she was tall too; another six-footer. (Oddly enough, the male-Taylors, like Taylor Lautner, are always short.) Like Courtney, she had brown hair too, but hers was medium "chocolate" brown, not dark brown. And she had distinctly hazel eyes, not brown eyes like Courtney. Taylor would be Dakota Johnson, if she was actually pretty. Taylor was actually a local model when she wasn't the assistant manager at the club. She somehow ended up Friendzoning me before I ever even asked her out or thought about it. She would always come up to me with her stories and treated me like "her gay best friend." It took me months before I had to stop and ask "What the fuck just happened? How did this become our relationship?!"
I remember one time, she snuck in some cocaine - actual one-hundred-fucking-percent pure cocaine - into the job and wanted all the other bouncers to try it with her. I was the only one who declined out of the eight of us. I was also the only one who wasn't fucked-up afterwards, as well. Taylor's like 140 pounds; not heavy for a six-foot tall girl, but try carrying that several blocks to her home, where she walked to work from everyday! SIX BLOCKS carrying a coked-out model home! I was THAT kind of simp. Not even a literal simp, but like, a sucker. A sap. An idiot. I was doing all this shit for a girl who'd never in a million years date me, let alone sleep with me. What the fuck else would that make me? I wasn't even necessarily attracted to her like that, but what kind of fucking idiot guy does this for a woman he's not dating? It's not like any good deeds I ever do for people even get a "thank you" in return. They usually cause more problems than they're worth.
I eventually got Taylor home, was able to open her door while she was half-conscious, and placed her in bed. If I was a piece-of-shit guy, I could've done whatever I wanted to her, right then and there. But nothing happened. She barely managed to undress, and I left a bottle of water next to her bed, and left peacefully. Again, I was such a fucking sap. A putz.
The afternoon after, she called and thanked me for it and said how she'd always be my friend for "saving her life" that night. Yeah, sure. She was a woman after all, so I didn't take her word on it. But after that, I would see her almost every Friday. You see, we would both use this site, Meetup.com, to go to real-life events in the city. That's actually how I found out about the bar I ended up working at in 2015. I didn't stop going to those events. Every Friday, they held a board game night downtown. And after Taylor coordinated with them that one time, through her work, she would start going to these events too. So whether I wanted to see her or not, I would always run into Taylor every Friday night for these board game events, even after she quit working at the club. I wanted to meet a girl at these events, or maybe some true genuine friends, but usually just ran into the same people. Most of the repeat people were these autistic-as-fuck adult males; the kinds who are into My Little Pony and wore Adventure Time t-shirts and shit. Taylor was one of the few girls there who would repeat going. The other was another white girl named Sky (only 170 cm / 5'7", for what it's worth, so she was actually an everyday, normal-sized girl.) Sky dated an Indian guy (that was her type.) The Indian guy knew another guy, who invited him to the meetups. That's how I met Leo.
Leo would end up becoming the closest thing I ever had to a "best friend," though the term is used kinda loosely. Not to get into all the details, but Leo is literally a "poor man's Henry Cavill." Like, for real. Just as handsome as him, in better shape than him, taller than him at 193 cm (6'4"), and has a manly-ass lumberjack beard. I was friends with an Indian version of Dwayne Johnson in grade school. Now, in my late twenties, I was friends with the working-class Superman. Leo was a handyman. Had a blue Ford pickup truck and all. Would go around fixin' shit, I guess. He was sleeping with a married woman, who was having an affair with her husband. He eventually broke off the "toxic" affair, and had to go through recovery. So he wanted to meet new people, which led him to the Meetup groups.
Like I said, Leo found out about our group through the Indian acquaintance. This guy dated Sky. And Sky became friends with Taylor, as the two were the only reoccurring girls who came to these restaurant board-game-nights every Friday. So eventually, me and Taylor met Leo. And although we both met Leo at the same time, Sky and Taylor would usually be off doing their girl-thing, having drinks, sitting together, chit-chatting; all that shit. So me and Leo would talk. This was 2016, during the first presidential run of Donald Trump. The area I lived in was super-Liberal, if not woke, so me and Leo were the only ones not drinking the Hillary Clinton Kool-Aid. As it turned out, although this 6'4" GigaChad looked like Superman, he was actually pretty "based." Intelligent, like me. A hard-worker, like me. Knows almost all of politics are a joke for stupid people to pretend like they have actual democracy, like me. Willing to openly say the truth about women and how soul-draining they can be, like me. Generally a misanthrope, like me.
For a guy who won the genetic lottery, you wouldn't think Leo would be a cynical asshole like myself, but he was even more cynical than I was. He just knew how to put on a fake charming smile and be a people-pleaser to get what he wanted, from women, to lucrative repair jobs. Sure, I was more intelligent than him, but not by much. And when you consider he was five inches taller than me with a six-pack, he still comes out on top. (Oddly enough though, he had a small dick too; no homo. Taylor would later reveal he's only six inches/15 cm which is only half an inch less than me. You'd think he'd be eight or nine inches, easily. Again, no homo. But it's funny how he's the one who actually could get any chick he wanted, and yet had an even smaller tool than me, somehow. That's painfully ironic.) He pretty much was a Chad, but red-pilled enough to not trust women. He could have any woman he wanted, but he actually had standards for who he dated. And he either didn't sleep around much anymore, or had high standards for women he wanted to sleep with after his last woman being that married 40 year old who was cheating on her husband for him. So I never expected Leo and Taylor to actually become a thing, as the two seemed to hate dating life, in general, despite both being really attractive people.
Leo and Taylor kinda happened organically, over the course of a year or so. 2017, actually. Me and Taylor were first 'friends,' then I became friends with Leo. So me and Leo would see each other every Friday, at these meetup events and we'd team-up in a fair boy/girl versus boy/girl tag team, with me and Sky on one team to compete against Leo and Taylor on the other team. (Sky's boyfriend thought board games were beneath him and only accompanied her to these events, but never actually played anything; he'd be at the bar slinging away shots.) So eventually, chemistry developed between Taylor and Leo, although me and Sky would win the games 60-70% of the time. And I was the "glue " Taylor and Leo together. Taylor would've never gotten to know Leo if not for me, and probably wouldn't have even played the actual games. Taylor also wouldn't have talked to more guys at these events if I hadn't pressured her to talk to other people besides Sky.
Throughout 2017, sparks grew between Taylor and Leo. OF COURSE THEY WOULD. Two tall, perfect-looking late-twenties white people with brown hair, falling in love. Also for that matter, both were into God. Leo was a believer, but not a church-attending Christian, while Taylor was fully Christian. Taylor convinced Leo to start going back to church again on Sundays. Naturally, that would lead to talks of marriage later down the line. By mid 2018, Taylor moved into Leo's house (yeah, that's right, this motherfucker owned a house by 29) and by 2019, the two were engaged to be married. They married sometime after COVID, but I had left the country by the time they did. As Taylor started seeing Leo more, I would see both Leo and Taylor less and less. Taylor had decided she just HAD to be "my friend" and wouldn't take No for an answer. And Leo legitimately was my friend. And now both were leaving me behind for each other. Story of my FUCKING life, huh?
Taylor's laissez-faire, "whatever happens, happens" attitude about life worked with Leo's "no fucks given" attitude. One of the few things both possessed, that I lacked, was letting small things go and not worrying too much about major issues or setbacks in life. I mean, when you're tall, come from upper middle-class backgrounds, and literally look like A-list celebrities with fucking PERFECT genetics, I imagine that's pretty easy, though. I'm the opposite; I stress out too much over things. But I suppose literally never growing-up, developing so much fucking health problems I've lost count, and having a childhood being "Wendy's dumpster diving" poor, with a shitty abusive mother, would do that to ya. But yeah, I lost both Taylor and Leo to each other. I still see them on social media every now and then, but they're both trying to advance their careers as of 2024 and have a baby. Leo wants to buy a bigger house and move out of that blue state he's in due to illegal immigrants and crime and shit, and Taylor's starting a medical billing career, or some nonsense. I don't really speak to them anymore, but they both seem rather happy and content with each other. And I gotta imagine they don't even think about me anymore.
And where am I? I'm 37, as of this year. I'm doing nothing with my life, though I've certainly tried to make progress; just have nothing to show for it. I can't truly help fix the world or save the planet, like I always wanted to when younger. I'm still fucking short-as-shit. And I'm going to die alone solely because of it. I've long given up my hopes and dreams for a romantic relationship after losing Kaitlyn. I've stopped believing in friends after Taylor and Leo fell for each other. And I've seen all three of my grade-school best friends become super-successful, like I'm season one Walter White. And where am I right now? Typing on a Reddit knock-off site at night, waiting for my laundry to finish.
Am I a loser, or were all my friends just really lucky and blessed? Should I even be comparing my own life to others' success? Does any of this even have a point in the end? Who knows? ♫ In the end, it doesn't even matter... ♫
[–]musky-the-nigger 3 insightful - 1 fun3 insightful - 0 fun4 insightful - 0 fun4 insightful - 1 fun - (0 children)
[–]SMCAB 3 insightful - 1 fun3 insightful - 0 fun4 insightful - 0 fun4 insightful - 1 fun - (0 children)