Holy shit.
I think I’m asexual.
Tuesday, September 2, 2025
Nikki
hiii so I think I’m gonna take you up on your offer from last week about Tuesday afternoons <3
I have a break between 11:30 and 1:30 today and would absolutely love to come over for some *stress relief* xoxo
Nikki’s texts arrive in the middle of Statistics, and I nearly choke on my spit. It’s a mix of excitement and dread because I was running late this morning and my bedroom is a disaster. But nothing in the world can keep me away from a “stress-relief” visit with Nikki.
Sitting in the second row, I’d rather not be called out by the professor for texting, so I react to Nikki’s text with a heart emoji and plan to reply more eloquently between classes. But the damage to my attention span is already done—the promise ofimminent sex with my girlfriend guarantees that I won’t be able to focus on the rest of this lecture.
It occurs to me that I haven’t felt as clingy over the weekend as I usually do. Nikki, like most other students, works retail on weekends, so I rarely see her more than a couple of times a week. Any chance to see her is precious and rare, and I’ll move mountains for one if I have to.
So, going a whole three-day weekend without feeling unbearably lonely and codependent is rare for me. What changed?
Oliver
not gonna lie, the Moretti EP from the movie last night slaps
especially 35mm
it’s giving creepy uncle that gets a little too lit at the Christmas party
“have I ever told y’all that I used to be in a band?” “yes uncle terry, several times”
As class wraps up, I see Oliver’s messages, exhale a quiet laugh to myself, and shoot him a quick response before heading to my next class.
Jude
Max is going to murder you in your sleep if he hears you listening to that lmao
Oliver
nahhh
he knows it’s a bop
Something about Oliver’s presence makes me feel safe in a way that is very hard to rationalize. He is, as far as I am aware,a cisgender, straight, nineteen-year-old white man. Based on experience, that alone should make me uncomfortable. And yet, Oliver has never once made me apprehensive, uneasy, or afraid. He’s genuinely kind and friendly. His charm is not unlike Max’s—authentic, endearing, and consistent. But there’s something more there that I can’t quite put my finger on—a gentle naivety, a protective nature, and an energetic spirit.
Jesus Christ, he really is a fucking golden retriever.
But at the end of the day, I have to remind myself that my intuition has been wrong before, and my history with men proves my instincts aren’t reliable. Just because I feel safe around Oliver now doesn’t mean he’s any exception. If he’s anything like the rest of them, he’ll eventually develop feelings for me that I won’t return, and he’ll grow to resent me for “friend-zoning” him. He’ll interpret my friendship as a prerequisite for a sexual relationship, and when the sex never happens, he’ll accuse me of leading him on. That’s always been the story, and I would be a fool to let my guard down for this one.
And yet.
Oliver
so I have a probably dumb question for you that has absolutely nothing to do with opus
Jude
oh boy
shoot
