I'm 20, and it all started when I was 12 years old. So yeah it's been 8 years since I've been obsessed with this fictional character. I don't want to say exactly who he is, but he is from a real life movie not from a cartoon. It affected me pretty hard mostly on my style/aesthetic choices. He is that 'edgy-goth' type of character so I always tried to be like him for some reason.

It doesn't bothers me at all to be honest. I like to daydream, make up stories in my head, and just do my thing. I never felt such a thing towards anyone in real life. I never dated anyone, and I'm kinda lonely but I don't mind it anyway. I can't really tell what love is, but if it's the same thing that I feel towards him then I guess I know what it is to be.

We were together for almost a year. During that time everything was great I always had so much fun. I think he likes me but couldn’t fall in love with me. And that's the problem. I’m completely heartbroken because I loved him with all my heart, we had a such great chemistry and now I miss him more than ever.

I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular checkup. Turns out I have a tumor on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than 8 months of not having any treatment.

I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which results in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance. Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'll start to work later and will finish earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings.

My landlord where I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business for free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress so I can save a lot more, so my wife has something to carry over afterward.

I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.

My daughter has a rare blood disorder called idiopathic thrombocytopedia pupura (immune) which causes her immune system to destroy her platelets so she just bleeds, randomly. Her eye just haemorrhaged a few weeks ago and an entire half was filled with blood, today, five hour nose bleed.

She can feel when they're coming and she sits down with her bloody nose kit, tissues, a trash bag, a puke bucket for when she swallows too much blood and vomits, gauze, cold packs. My daughter is four. I have been able to convince myself for almost three years that yes, she is sick, but not THAT sick.

Last week we spent four days at the hospital for severe anemia and no detectable platelets. She is THAT sick. I get it now. She is getting a wish, and she is getting worse because she is that sick. We have tried every medication available for treatment of this disease. Nothing helps. Nothing fixes it. My heart is broken.

My 13 year old died in Peru after getting caught in a whirlpool. We were on vacation. His mom (my ex) blamed me for his death and our other son also blames me so he doesn't speak to me. He's now 13 too. I don't force him to see me. When I drive home from work, I pretend that I am talking to my son about how his day was at school, what kind of music he wants to listen to, what he wants for dinner, etc. That is why I haven't gotten a new car. There are just too many memories.

My 20th birthday was this Monday.

Growing up, I loved and hated my birthday. I was excited for the presents and cake, but every year I dreaded the day after.

You see, it wasn’t supposed to be just me. I have a twin sister. She’s younger than me and lived for a day. She died the day after we were born and every year we visited her grave.

Until the age of twelve I held so much hate and anger and grief in my heart for the sister I never had. I thought about death, her being all alone in the supposed afterlife, and every year I saw my parents cry.

Why her?

There may be a hole in my heart, but the wound is healed. This hole will never be filled and I am at peace with that. I visit her every year to clean and be reunited in a sense.

I love her for who she would have been, and I know she would have loved me too.

I don't know who to choose. Between my boyfriend of 8 years, in which love turned to chores, romance turned to obligations and excitement turned to irritation. Versus a man, a colleague, who always made my day seems special in every possible way.