Houses are still uncomfortable to me. In truth, there are a lot of things I still really hate.
Like that time in Murfreesboro a girl drunkenly told me a guy has hit her several times and then when she was sober and watching me suffer the same situation, she pointed her finger and told me I deserved it. When I told her he did the same to you she denied it. I was in that situation because he was drunk and I was drunk. I did feel like it was my fault because of that.

I hate hearing feminist because that same girl claims to be one and she’s friends with a tumblr user I follow that is a real feminist. Many other feminists are like that girl. Straight up hypocrites.

Houses still make me uncomfortable because I’ve suffered in strangers’ houses and their friends waved it off as “It will be okay, he was just drunk.”

And anybody you talk to, especially my ex-boyfriend who was so beloved by this crappy town I live in now, will say “Well he’s always been that way. He treats women like shit. You should just leave.” And yet I watch these people still admire him. And for what? He joined the army because he needed money and he’s constantly trying to impress his father, and somehow he got fat even after joining the army. I’ve had to watch some of my friends stay friends with him and that’s what probably hurt the most.

I love being around my friends from middle school. I’ve known them for so long and they’re all about justice. They are good people who would never hurt anyone. But it does make me feel down when I can’t be comfortable around them just because we’re in a strange house.

And this is why I mostly stay home.