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[Content Notice: Discussion of sex and drugs, mentions of sexual assault and abortion]Dear Ok Cupid, I have a confession to make.
Back when we first met, at the beginning of our 12-year relationship, I wasn’t 18 yet.
For the entire 5-hour Greyhound ride, I listened to Black Liner Run on repeat and cried bitterly, my sobs’ convulsions studiously ignored by my seatmate.
We broke up after I wounded him instead of breaking up with him.There was the first person who wasn’t a cis man with whom I danced both vertically and horizontally, even though I’m not much of a dancer.Changing my orientation on my Ok Cupid profile was a Big Fucking Deal, you know.There was the second person I met off the site, who, years later, decided that and had the receipts to prove it, which fact he conveniently ignored even after I shared them with him.There was the guy who gave me my first webcam show and later my first kiss.He was an atheist and I was a lapsing Muslim when we met.He had found my Live Journal (pre-Russian takeover) independently of my Ok Cupid profile.Back then, he was new to polyamory and told me all about it.I was intrigued but convinced that no one open to openness would date me. He initially connected with me through poetry posted on Ok Cupid Blogs, but managed to not break my heart, maybe because he wasn’t always stoned when we spoke.I flew to New Orleans to help him make the drive back to Southern California. At his behest, I ended up hooking up with, hanging out with, and helping him over the next few years.That was over for me when I found out that he wasn’t actually over me.