It still amazes me that I talk to guys who still think they get harassed just as much as women online. Like even from people who aren’t clearly and totally gross dumbasses. It kinda makes me think that, even in the best cases, it might be hard to really understand the sheer difference in frequency. You see a woman get harassed on a game and you go “Oh well I’ve been harassed” without understanding that there is seldom a session for her where that doesn’t happen or understanding what her inbox might look like…
That is a sort of stunning degree of difference.
"The data’s in! Women were lying about online harassment!”
"Aha! We knew it!"
“Yeah, they’ve been severely underreporting how bad things are for them, turns out.”
This is the bed where we fell in love. (Some may say it was New York, but that was messy and made me sad for too long.)
This is where we slept before we slept together. This is where we made music and art before we made love. This is where girls and guys could be just friends. This is where we ate fast food and watched horror movies (even though I hated that.) This is where we kissed when we shouldn’t have. This is where I held you at two AM, when you sobbed and begged me not to leave. This is where I sobbed, too, and told you I had to, but I wasn’t really going anywhere. This is where we talked until the sun came up. This is where I drew branches on your arm. This is where I ran to at 6 AM when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. This is where we tried to not let this happen. (That lasted a total of eight hours.) This is where I called “home” when home became an idea and not a place. This is where we took obnoxious pictures and sent them to everyone in our phone contacts. (This is why everyone hates us, probably.) This is where I told you I was (20%) sure this wasn’t what it was before. This is where I was sad about her and you rolled over at me until I started crying because you don’t know how to be mad at me. This is where we stared into each other’s eyes for at least an hour and didn’t say a word. (It was the most comforting feeling I can recall.) This is where you told me you were (85%) in love with me. (You later told me it was 100%, but I started the percentages, I guess.) This is where we decided we were in love with each other. This is where you loved me for the first time. This is where you loved me a lot more times. This is where we started hi-fiving after because we’re best friends first. This is where you read me your favorite books. This is where we slept, with the sheet that didn’t always fit, then the fuzzy sheet, and sometimes no sheet at all. This is where I decided that I don’t care if “they saw this coming three years ago” because we didn’t see it coming three years ago and we don’t owe anyone a fucking explanation. This is where I think I really saw you for the first time. This is where I decided I never wanted to be without you. This is where you told me I never had to. This is where I fell in love with my best friend.
This is not where we will continue to love. My bed in Philadelphia is now our bed in Philadelphia. We will fall asleep/wake up in a bed that is not this one, but I will continue to love you just as much.
That is beautiful. But of course you know that already.