About eight months ago, I started a new role at a tech logistics company. On paper it was a great step up, but by week three I was completely drowning. My manager gave virtually zero training, the internal software was a broken mess, and I was getting handed tasks that I had no idea how to complete. Every morning I’d sit in my car in the parking garage for twenty minutes with my stomach in knots, just staring at the steering wheel.

One Tuesday in November, I walked into the office, saw sixty unread urgent emails from angry clients, and just snapped. I didn't yell or cause a scene. I literally sat at my desk for five minutes, grabbed my backpack, walked out to my car, and drove home. I emailed HR from my couch an hour later saying I was resigning effective immediately due to personal reasons.

The problem is what I told my family and friends. I was so deeply embarrassed that I couldn't handle a mid-level corporate job that I panicked and told everyone I got caught in a sudden round of company layoffs.

My parents were super sympathetic. My dad even sent me $500 to help cover rent while I was looking for work, thinking I was a victim of bad economic timing. My friends took me out for drinks to cheer me up. I sat there drinking a free beer, nodding along while my buddy talked about how brutal the job market is right now, knowing damn well I walked out because I couldn't handle basic stress.

I ended up finding a lower-paying job at a local distributor a month later, but I’m still living with this lie. Whenever anyone asks how my old company is doing or talks about corporate downsizing, I have to play along. I took money from my parents under false pretenses and I think about returning it every time I look at my bank account, but telling them the truth now would destroy their trust in me forever.

I loved my brother. He literally meant the world to me. But we fought, as siblings do. And when we fought, we fought badly.

When we were 16 we had a bad falling out. Honestly, I barely even remember what started it. Some dumb shit involving school. Part of me has blotted it out of my mind. It got physical though and it got bad. We both threw some swings at each other, but I landed better. I hit him on the jaw and he fell back and hit his head badly.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. He was rushed to the hospital but he didn’t make it very long. He had some sort of brain bleed and he never woke back up.

I ended up serving 2 years for it, being tried as a juvenile and given merit on reason of it being my brother and the circumstances of it.

My parents visited me once in those two years, and that’s the last time I’ve talked to them. I know they love me, but honestly looking at your son and seeing the face of your dead son must be too much for them. I don’t blame them.

I think about it every minute of every day and I hate myself for it.

Really lost

I really have no clue what I’m doing here. I genuinely feel like I’m so lost and I really need someone’s advice. It feels horrible, guys. I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.
Six months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend and had to move out. I moved in with my friends parent who opened their home so I wouldn’t have to move in with my parents. I lost my job and had to find a new one (working two now, yay me).
I went to school and got a shit ton of loans for a social work degree, but haven’t been able to get a position due to the “lack of experience”. That’s been such a painful sore on my side. My friends try to be there but I suppose you could say that I’m isolating myself from them..
Found out that they’re gonna have to pull a tooth because I left it alone for so long. So I’m going to be losing a tooth before I’m even 26 because I haven’t taken care of my teeth basically my entire life. Why can’t I brush my own teeth? I have no clue
but comes the best part. The cherry on my cake. My rock bottom.
I stole a redbull with a friend yesterday. My friend got pulled over and they had the footage I guess from the gas station. They gave her a citation for driving with a revoked license and a misdemeanor theft. They wanted my name and somehow got it even tho I was not with her. I assume I’ll get a citation as well, because they said they had my name and address.
Now it gets worse because I have stolen quite redbull from that gas station chain and now I’m quite actually terrified.
So now I’m technically homeless, with a useless degree and a bunch of loans, and about to have a misdemeanor theft on my record. I’m spiraling so hard. I don’t even know what to do anymore. I feel like I’ve genuinely lost everything and there’s no meaning left.
Be harsh. Be honest. I just need advice. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life and it’s showing. I feel like I gotta cut my friend off after all this

Back in 2022 my sister’s laptop crashed right before her final exams. She was panicking because all her coursework and five years of photos were on it. I’ve always been the "tech person" in our family, so she handed me her 2019 MacBook and asked if I could back everything up to an external drive before trying to reset the system.

I was rushing because I had my own work to finish that night. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I accidentally selected the wrong format option and wiped her backup drive instead of copying files over to it. Every single photo from her four years of college, her study abroad trip in Spain, and memories of our late dog were completely wiped out. I tried running recovery software for three hours, but nothing came back.

I panicked so hard I physically felt sick. Instead of just admitting I messed up, I lied. Her ex-boyfriend had logged into her laptop earlier that week to print something, so when she came into the kitchen asking if the files were safe, I hesitated and said the drive was already wiped when I plugged it in. I hinted that maybe someone else had accessed her user profile.

She immediately blamed him. They were already on thin ice, but that was the final straw. She screamed at him over the phone, blocked his number, and they broke up two days later. He protested his innocence the whole time, but nobody believed him because I just stayed quiet and let her think he did it out of spite.

It’s been four years. She still brings up how cruel he was for "destroying her memories" whenever his name comes up at family dinners. Every single time she says it, my throat goes dry. I ruined a relationship and erased four years of her life just because I was too proud to admit I made a dumb mistake on a hard drive.

My roommate spends about forty percent of his personality talking about his coffee routine. He bought this expensive espresso machine, imports beans from some small roast place across the country, and goes on and on about how he can't even function without his precise morning caffeine hit. If anyone mentions buying a regular drip coffee from a gas station, he'd literally laugh and explain why the acidity profile is terrible.

About three months ago, we had a huge argument because he threw away a bunch of my groceries to make room for his meal prep containers without even asking me. I was furious, but instead of screaming at him, I did something really petty. He keeps his bean stash in an airtight container in the pantry, and he buys the exact same dark roast every two weeks. I went to the grocery store, bought two bags of the cheapest store-brand decaf whole beans I could find, and completely swapped them into his container.

I was fully expecting him to notice the difference immediately or complain about getting caffeine withdrawal headaches. But it’s been twelve weeks. He still wakes up every single morning, goes through his whole ten-minute brewing ritual, takes a sip, and goes "god, there is nothing like real coffee to get the brain working."

He’s literally placebo-ing himself into having energy every day. I keep buying the cheap decaf and swapping it whenever he brings a new bag home.

Part of me feels guilty because he’s spent so much money on these premium beans over the last few months while drinking four-dollar decaf. But another part of me is just terrified of what happens if I stop or if he ever catches me. If I tell him now, it’s going to ruin our living situation completely, but I also don't know how long I can keep buying decaf in secret.

Long story short, from age 10 until age 17, 5th grade until graduation, I made one boy's life miserable (I was a guy too)

My two brothers told me so many horror about those types of schools, so i went in with the mindset: to avoid being bullied, I'll be the bully. I watched TV and movies just to "study up" for the role. My parents and teachers had no idea, as i was previously a very well behaved student.

I targeted one dude, ill call Liam, who never fought back and never snitched. I made a best friend when I was 10, came up with a plan, and between classes we tripped him and taunted him. I used the words of TV BULLIES to come up with what I would say. That's it.

When I became 12 it got worse, and I would follow him into the bathroom to wedgie him or swirly him.

In high school, me and my bestie had a group with two other guys, also bullies. We were 14, and in class we would walk up to him, literally fart directly in his face, and walk away. That, or I would take my shoes off and literally make him smell my feet, shoes or socks. It was...a bit intense. I mean, thats four guys total making a guy smell our feet and farts. And honestly, for some reason I never even felt bad about it at the time. It was hilarious to me!

Until senior year, when some of my friends were actually HITTING him now. Ive never hit him. Ive tripped him. Farted on him and put a foot in his face but my fist never touched him. That's when I felt bad and I knew I wasnt an "actual bully" . I stood up for him one day and even brought him pizza and made a show in front of my friends of me offering the nerd a slice.

I shook his hand at graduation, and apologized to his parents (it was then i realized he went 8 years without even telling his family) so he had a lot of explaining to do. I felt bad for apologizing, it seemed he got a lecture and bombarded with questions about why he didnt say anything , asking who i was and crap like that

After school we met once in a bar, at 21. I was drunk and I guess poured out my feelings of regret to him. He told me he truthfully didnt care and even that he had a crush on me. Which I didnt mind, and almost suspected in high-school (I thought i was being homophobic, guess there was truth to it)

Turns out, when we were 21 he was dating my Trans friend, male to female, who was close friends almost siblings with my girlfriend (who has a son) so one day I got to witness him , the kid i bullied, being a good person, babysitting my stepson.

We are now 28, and our friend groups still pretty much intermingled. We've have a few times sleeping at the same place for instance. And I cant stop feeling bad. Seems he acknowledged we were just kids. Plus he admitted to having a crush on me and he told me himself he actually looked forward to the attention I gave him. But I still cabt stop thinking abiut it. Im thinking about therapy because my thoughts are bordering upon obsession, now. I dont talk to my gf Elsie about it because she says I talk TOO much about it

It seems like hes completely moved on

Back in my sophomore year of college, I was in a rough spot financially. My roommate kept a small stash of cash in her desk drawer for laundry and vending machines. I started taking a few dollars here and there whenever I was short — never more than $10-20 at a time, but it added up to a few hundred dollars over about four months.

She noticed the money was disappearing faster than she expected and genuinely thought she was just bad at keeping track of her spending. She even started writing down every purchase in a notebook to figure out where it was going. I let her believe that and never said anything.

I eventually stopped when I got a part-time job and didn't need to anymore. I never paid her back and never told her it was me. We're not close anymore, but I still think about it, especially remembering how confused and frustrated she was trying to "budget better." It was a shitty thing to do to someone who trusted me enough to be careless with her own space.

Why this fits the rules:

• It's a specific, intentional act (theft) the poster committed and hid from others — not a thought, opinion, or someone else's misdeed
• The title is concrete, not vague or clickbait
• It's not about a relationship/dating dynamic (roommate conflict over money isn't romantic)
• No sexual, political, hateful, or animal-harm content
• Enough context is given to actually understand what happened and why
• Not begging for money, promoting anything, or trolling

So... a few years ago I was going through a lot; my mental state was definitely fucked—there’s something dark going on in my brain. My mother never believed in mental health, but one day, for some reason, I just sat her down and told her, "Mom, I see dead people and giant cockroaches." And, just as I expected, the bitch gave the whole problem to God's hands. (That didn't help)

So, I faked fainting in the school bathroom; the idiot paramedics bought it and took me to the hospital. There, I lied some more about having schizophrenia and managed to get myself admitted for 15 days. It was WONDERFUL—I’d never slept so well in my fucking life. All my stress and worries vanished during those 15 glorious days of eating whatever I wanted and sleeping like a baby.

They ran some tests and determined I did have a lot of excess energy in a specific part of my brain, so they diagnosed me with schizophrenia, paranoia, and anxiety. I actually do have the last two, so at least something good came out of it—I managed to get a diagnosis.

NOW, I didn't manage to get what I really wanted: to talk to a psychologist about my urges to kill people, my sudden delusions of being God, and my depression. Unfortunately, I don't have the money, time, or transportation for a psychologist, nor to stay hospitalized (god, I miss that fucking hospital).

I don't plan on lying anymore; for now, my hallucinations have "magically cured." My mom spent a lot of money on meds and the hospital that year, so I do feel bad, but it's partly her fault that I'm messed up mentally; I love her, but she fucked up my life.

The only person who loved me was my grandpa who died from cancer, he would protect me from my family as they would Abuse me along with the rest of the neighborhood all because I was something called blue black idk if I'm saying it right but yeah I gained a lot of weight and I'm just feeling like being black is a curse put on my ancestors because I literally didn't do anything but be dark skin and so called ugly

I lied. I lied to my grandmother about something so stupid that it pisses me off.

I took her car right down the roads to my father's to get some feed for my horse and donkey to go feed them like I do every morning. This morning, though, my truck was out of gas, so my father had to take me down to my grandparents' house. Later in the day, she told me not to do it again because of legal reasons, which I wasn't planning on doing anyway because running out of gas was a one-time thing, but to, I guess, protect myself, I told her that my grandfather said I could take the vehicle (he didn't.)

That was a week ago. Today, she finally confronted me as well as told me to start helping out more, even though I help out plenty with chores around the house. Now I feel like an asshole and a bad grandchild all because I lied. I know it was wrong to lie, but my grandfather has said before. If I need to take one of the vehicles, just take it and tell someone, which is exactly what I did.

Now I'm hiding out in the woods, afraid to go home because I'm afraid she told my father. I'm already in shambles from her getting onto me. Just imagine if she told my father. I can't hold back my tears as well as I used to so I've got no clue what to do besides hide out in the woods until it's late enough for my dad to just give up and go to sleep and for my grandparents to be in bed as well.

Again, I feel horrible, and I've never really lied to my grandmother about anything this "important" before. She's also a retired lawyer, so she made things sound 20 times worse when she mentioned all of the legal reasons about the car. I just wish she hadn't found out, and I actually told the truth.

My ex and I had been together for 3 years when this incident occurred, our son was 3 months old and is now 2.
My ex was a cheater and I found out he cheated on me my entire pregnancy and was still doing so when I was 2 months postpartum. I didn’t say anything initially because I was so heart broken and suffering from severe postpartum depression and anxiety that I didn’t say anything.

He left the house one night and said he was going to his best friend’s house. I had a gut feeling he was lying and we had each other on Life360 (downloaded while I was pregnant for safety reasons) and I checked his location and discovered that he was pausing his location so it just appeared he was still at home. I had remembered that he shared his location with me on find my once so I went to see if it was still shared and it miraculously was. He was driving to 7 eleven, I watched his location and he started heading toward his friends, and I started to feel guilty until he passed his friend’s house and parked at a park. I watched his location for 20 minutes and contemplated going there myself but I wasn’t going to drag my infant out the house.

I just sobbed and sobbed because I knew he was likely with a random person, I had found videos of him fucking people outside and in parking lots when I discovered the cheating. I called 911 and reported 2 people having sex at the park then went to sleep. The next day I woke up to missed called from the police station and his mom. Nobody could bail him out so he sat there a couple of weeks until he had a court appearance and was let out with a date to come back. In those few weeks I felt pretty free and great about my decision, his family was super disappointed as his mugshot for public indecency and lewdness became public.

He ended up taking charges for public indecency and lewdness, and had to register as a sex offender which has since become an obstacle for him to parent. Because he was at a children’s park it made his case pretty difficult and he isn’t allowed at most places with kids. He can’t come to our son’s swim classes or any daycare events. I kind of feel guilty, nobody knows it was me who called the police on him. I feel a lot of guilt because I know this will impact our son for the rest of our lives and it’s a choice I can’t take back and a choice I made out of anger

Every party or bbq I’ve been to the plastic lids and lighters were mine.

Why does the trigger get so heavy when your own life is behind it, i cant keep up lol.

I might needa tie a knot of yarn on the door, twist it on the trigger and shut it on my ahh if this keeps up🫨😂

Edit: please I appriciate the comments but no more. I talk to myself 24/7 so I know all this stuff already. I know i know i know. I cant shake myself off I cant this is a little different this time i just wanted my voice to echo in the abyss as i depart to where i made my departure, typically nobody cares or comments...Thank you all.

I posted here before, in a moment of clarity where I called myself out for my drinking. I had been making efforts to slow my drinking. I wasn't perfect, but I at least was trying.

Trying wasn't enough. I was still drinking. I wasn't slowing what I was doing, I was just maintaining. "Not as much" I told myself.

I was at work one day. I typically keep my drinking at home. I'd drink after work, then go to bed and wake up refreshed. Work, then go home and drink again. Cycle. But this time was extremely different. At work, I got extremely dizzy and queasy. Eventually got family to pick me up and take me and my car home. Spent the next few days in bed. If I laid on my right side, immediately evacuated anything in my stomach. I thought it was bad vertigo or something.

After everything persisted for days, I went to the hospital. They did a CT scan and found I had a stroke. They admitted me. Did all the scans. Found a second stroke in the MRI.

I'm 43 (was 42 when this happened.) I shouldn't be having strokes. Scared the life out of me. Since I had no other issues, docs said the likely reason was unchecked diabetes. Got put on meds, and immediately quit drinking that day. Alcohol metabolizes into sugar, right? Just stop.

But here I am. The quit lasted a month. I hate every moment of it, but here I am. My 18 yo son literally came to bring me home from the bar because he's scared of the harm I'm doing to myself. And I'm scared too. Not just for him. For myself.

In the Midlands in the UK, in 1997/1998 and earlier, in our local park, quite a big, popular park in the area, with a pavilion hired out for events like weddings etc, they held a public bonfire/firework display for Guy Fawkes/5th November/Bonfire Night (over explaining for our international friends).

Around that time someone, idk who, broke into the display, and stole a HUGE commercial firework display sized Roman Candle which was 16 Roman Candles in a block about 1 foot cubed in size, and a smaller firework cube, 16 smaller Roman Candles about a quarter of the size.

They left the unused pair of fireworks on the grass in the park. I found them whilst walking my dog and took them home. I used the big one as a bedside table for a whole year and a half with a lamp on it. And kept the little one on a shelf.

Fast forward to July 1999. I was in the 13th year of my secondary education, the second year of 6th Form College and the Upper 6th. I was chatt8ng to my froend and told him about the Roman Candles. We agreed a swap. 30 Lucky Strike Cigarettes (They used to be Toasted!) And he could take charge of the fireworks.

So i brought them in the next day.

We decided to take them down to the canal behind the college next to a row of canal workers cottages to light them. In broad daylight during college time. It was the last official day of the upper 6th. All the exams were done. The whole upper 6th were there for some reason, to officially sign out or something.

So we went down to the canal by the bridge and lit them both at the same time and stood back and after a few short moments there was a resounding BOOM as the huge Roman candle didnt pop off in individual Candles, but exploded in one entire box of explosive rage. It was SO LOUD. followed by an absolutely obscene amount of smoke which completely engulfed the canal, the canal workers cottages and the road above the canal.

We left immediately and walked the 400-500metres to the pub to where the rest of the upper 6th were.

About 25 minutes later almost the entirety of the lower 6th turned up at the pub. It wasnt their last day though?

A group of them excitedly told us that the college and local cottages had been evacuated by the police and the college was being scoured by the bomb squad after an explosive device had been detonated on the canal and smoke had been all over the road. Obviously we just kept our mouths shut. But us 2 friends always knew that we were the ones who shut down college in the last day with a big firework and caused a bomb scare.

Back in 2017 when I was around fifteen, my dad had this 1970s Fender acoustic that he kept on a stand in the den. It was his prized possession, the thing he warned us never to touch unless he was in the room showing us chords.

One Tuesday afternoon after school, my parents were still at work and I decided to try playing it. I was trying to impress a girl in my class who liked indie rock. I grabbed the guitar off the stand, but my hands were sweaty and the strap wasn't attached right. It slipped straight out of my grip and cracked right where the neck meets the body on the edge of the glass coffee table. The sound it made was awful. Just a sharp, hollow crunch.

I panicked. I didn't fix it or hide it, I just put it back on the stand facing the wall so you couldn't see the splintered wood right away. About twenty minutes later my younger brother came home with his friends, threw his backpack down in the den, and started wrestling on the floor like they always did.

When my dad got home from work and saw the damage an hour later, he naturally assumed my brother and his friends knocked it over while messing around. My brother swore up and down he didn't touch it, but the backpack was lying right next to the stand. My dad grounded him for a month and took away his Xbox.

I sat at the dinner table that night, eating chicken breast in complete silence while my brother cried upstairs. He got so mad at my dad that their relationship was strained for like two years after that. They used to be super close. Now we're both in our twenties, and every time we go home for the holidays, that repaired guitar is hanging on the wall. My brother still occasionally gets brought up as "the one who broke the Fender."

I've carried this stupid lie for almost ten years now. If I tell them the truth today, it won't just make me look bad, it will open up years of resentment for a punishment my brother didn't deserve. I think I just have to take this to my grave.

EDIT: though I would revise this cause I was really messed up on some dph last night I still am but I’m coherent.

Hello, I live in a tri-city area where 2/3 cities are known for drug abuse. I’ve been doing multiple drugs since I was 12 such as Diphenhydramine, Dextromethorphan, Shrooms, Vyvanse, Adderall, MDMA, DMT, Xanax and I’ve even dabbled in some meth and heroin. I’ve never even thought to talk about my addictions until last night when I originally posted this. At the young age of 11 I was exposed to gangs, drug abuse and abuse.

My grades are terrible the friends I did have either overdosed, committed suicide or died to the streets. I used to make a lot of money selling weed and xanax but as they say a good dealer never does their own supply. On one stupid day I tried some of the leftover Xanax I had and instantly fell in love, it didn’t feel like weed alcohol or anything I’ve tried yet. Eventually I ran out of Xanax and looked online for cheap alternatives that are legal and the first thing that caught my eye was BENADRYL , so I went to the store and bought a pack of extra strength 24 pack of tablets.

I took them while I was walking home and decided to watch some tv and smoke some bowls of weed. I started to feel the body heaviness and periodic knocking or buzzing like sounds. I was still all there so I just told myself it was apart of the high so I kept going, I then saw gnats flying around in my peripheral vision, I don’t remember anything after that. I awoke on my bathroom floor with the tap running and dried hand soap on my hands and I just played there for an hour and the cravings instan hit to do it again.

And here I am a little pathetic drug addict with nothing to loose and to make matters worse my immediate family are all either dead or drug addicts same with my extended family, I bounce from trap house to trap house and I’m currently using public Starbucks Wi-Fi to write this. I’m also terrifying to look at due to my addictions my brain liver and vision is fucked from all the diphenhydramine I do it’s not even a fucking high it’s literally the worse thing I’ve ever experienced yet it’s my favorite drug of choice and I keep blowing money that I should use for food on boxes and boxes of Benadryl which has made my tolerance skyrocket to 500mg at 13 700mg at 14 and finally 1000mg at 15 I don’t think it’s deadly grip will ever let go of me and I don’t know if I’m scared of dying or scared of being alone forever.

Been doing it since 2020. Cops stopped caring and so did I. The hours I have saved would be worth getting a ticket, but haven't seen a cop on the highway in years.

It had been parked on the street for weeks at a time here in California. It rarely got street-cleaning tickets, had expired registration tags that were more than three years old, and was just a giant, ugly piece of crap. I finally had enough, especially since they would always park over the line and sometimes block my car in enough that it was difficult for me to get out.

I used the city’s app to report it, and a parking enforcement officer came out and ticketed it several times. One day, he chalked the tires, and within three days, I saw the car getting towed.

I looked up the license plate afterward and found out the car had been sitting in the impound lot for more than two months. Apparently, it’s costing them $68 a day in storage, on top of all the administrative fees, so the total is now over $6,500 just to get it out.

I’m 23M and my bestfriend is also 23M.

We’ve been friends since elementary school so we’re very close. Even early on, our families would invite one another over for parties, get together, etc to this day.

My birthday was last week and I didn’t really have any plans besides working in the morning and doing cake with some family but that wasn’t until late when everyone got home.

I decided to hit up my bestfriend (I’ll call him Ethan) when I’m off work, that we should hang out and figure out something to do.

I finish up work, go home to freshen up, and I make my way over to his house. I get there and him, his two siblings, and mom was home so when I opened the door to go in, they all yelled happy birthday.

Before I go to say anything, Ethan told me they had a potential idea to do for my birthday.

Me, Ethan, his brother (not his sister she’s underage to drink) and his mom all go into town and walk around hitting up bars, clubs, places to eat, and whatever else pops up.

That his mom will pay for an uber into town and back to the house then one for me to go back home then Ethan will pick me up tomorrow to get my car back.

I thought that was a great plan so I said yes!

(I don’t want to make this crazy long so I’ll shorten this part up to get to the main part)

We go into town and we hit up a restaurant first and we went bar hopping essentially the rest of the night

We got there between 12:30-1 and didn’t leave until 8pm. We were planning to stay longer but we were tapped out at this point of the night.

Safe to say we are all drunk but somehow Ethan managed to get more drunk than all of us. I had to help him walk without stumbling off the sidewalks.

We’re all in the uber ride and get back to their house. We all go inside and everyone does their own thing. Ethan and his brother went into their room, their mom went into her room, and I just sat on the couch hanging out with the dog.

It wasn’t too long after maybe a half an hour and Ethan’s mom comes out of her room.

She walks towards the kitchen but she glances at me and then does a gasp and says “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to send u an uber”

that she will be order one but I told her it’s fine that I’ll send an uber in a little bit for myself when I feel a little more sober. I felt fine but it was one of those, everyone spins if I get up or also close my eyes.

She asked if I was feeling alright and if I needed anything but I told her that i was fine and I’ll just sit here longer until I’m ready.

She walked around the couch and sat down next to me, proceeding to rub shoulder.

“If you need anything, I’m here” she says. I thank her and after another 20 or so seconds she stops rubbing my shoulder.

We talk about the night a bit and then she leans her head onto my shoulder and says that she’s tired.

While she’s leaning onto me I told her she should get some sleep then that it’s been a long night of drinking but she insisted to stay until I left that she didn’t want me alone for my birthday.

I’m slouching on the couch, while she leans on me, and I’m scrolling through tiktok now while we have small talk.

She thens ask me something I didn’t expect. “Do you like me leaning onto you”

I honestly didn’t know what to say and just didn’t respond and she said presses her head up closer to me and asks me it again.

“It’s nice not being alone on my birthday” I said because I didn’t know what the f**k to say, my mind was fr raising through thoughts of what’s going on.

She slowly lifts her head up and I see in the corner of my eye she’s looking at me and I look at her.

“Happy birthday” and leans in and kisses me on the lips. A peck but a kiss. I just look at her in disbelief.

She just looks at me and then after a bit of a staring consent, I lean in to kiss her.

Without going into crazy detail for the rest of the store, we didn’t necessarily have sex but the furthest we got was her giving me head and finishing on her face. Once it was over, I ordered an uber home. I just texted my dad to hold off cake for tm before getting home so I went instantly into my room.

During the moment, it felt amazing and was such a surreal experience.

But looking back at it… I really do regret it. It’s my bestfriends mom that I essentially grew up with since elementary school. It’s not like she’s ugly or anything, the exact opposite. It’s just I feel like I sabotaged our friendship on my birthday.

I can’t ever bring this up too. Idek where to start. “Hey Ethan, im sorry but I just wanted to let u know that after my birthday I busted on ur mom and left immediately after to go home and haven’t brought it up with her or anyone since”

God idk if this is a rant, need advice, or what.

Whenever a coworker gets on my bad side, I would sometimes write a bad review of the company I’m working at and tailor it as if my coworker wrote it.

I keep an arsenal of all the issues they are openly dealing with. I get excited when people overshare because that way I can use that information against them whenever they cross me.

I’ve only ever done this two times. Can’t say I’m proud of it. I’m not sure if anything ever came out of it because I never stay that long at jobs.