Dick's sporting goods boynton beach

It was so much a part of who I was. I was hurting every second and very aware of it. I am healthier now. I no longer feel ruined or unloveable and I don't want to kill myself. I'm not scared of men anymore. I can work a normal job now. Not even sure I have ptsd anymore. So I can't really complain. I just have a weird feeling.
I used to be very motivated by all that. It caused me to be passionate about certain things, running away from the pain I guess. I never drank or did drugs. But I always had energy so I wouldn't have to face tiredness and my feelings. I'd watch every sunrise and sunset. I'd go to the beach every day, never went home because bad memories were there. I loved music because I related to it. I went on long walks at night. I picked up some hobbies. I'm aware I can do all this now. I just don't have the pain motivating me. I have nothing motivating me. My life was so exciting. Now I'm satisfied with myself but bored. I hate listening to those songs. I want to sleep instead of going places late at night. And I feel bored. And empty in a way. Not a painful way. Maybe this is good. I don't know. I just miss living for the second cause I didn't know if I'd kill myself the next day.

As a kid I never really payed attention to how I looked. The only time I’d look in the mirror was when I was brushing my teeth, or doing my hair. Of course that changed as I entered my teen years, I would worry about how my hair looked before school or the bloating in my face after I ate dairy the day before. I never really had a relationship with my mother, we didn’t dislike eachother, and we weren’t very close either. That also changed when I was becoming a teen. Around that time my grandmother (my moms mother) had passed away, as well as us needing to move houses, causing both me and her to be stressed. As a result many arguments happened, which lead me to realize she was a narcissist. Obviously I couldn’t have realized that she was before because how is a 12yr old supposed to see the faults in their mother? The arguments would always end up with me being grounded, and shut out without her listening to me and hearing my side of the disagreement. It was you either agree with her, admit it was your fault and say you’re sorry, or get a hand to a face and a “I don’t wanna hear it, talk again and you’re grounded”. When I had just turned 15 we eventually we grew apart completely, I distanced myself from her because I realized I couldn’t build a bond with her, no matter how many times I said she was right or things were my fault. We only ever talked to eachother if we needed to. This meant I wouldn’t tell her anything, If I liked a boy or If I was upset with my friends. And many other small details you would usually tell your parent. But at the start of a new school year, I saw a boy I’d never seen before, and my 15yr old self was already head over heals within seconds. When the school day ended my mom picked me up, and we drove most of the way home In silence as usual, but surprisingly she asked me how the first day back was. I thought this was a big step, and maybe she was looking to bond like I was so desperately, so I decided to tell her about the boy. I gave her his name and told her how cute I thought he was. She paused for a second and then said “Oh, I know his parents” I saw her look at me before continuing, “I doubt a kid like theirs would like someone like you”. For context I was a very shy and socially awkward kid. Doing any social activity gave me major anxiety. So I mostly stayed to myself on my phone or reading. I didn’t have many friends, I wasnt very athletic so I played no sports, I wasn’t in any clubs or camps because the thought of having to talk and meet new people terrifed me. I basically did nothing. And because of this my mom would continuously bash me, and call me lazy and beat me down. She continued to go on, “He plays sports, and he’s hardly on any electronics,” I said “Okay”. “He’s not lazy like you”. The rest of the drive home was silent, I remember digging my nails into my thigh and looking out the window to keep me from crying. I think that was one of the worst days of my life. The feeling of my throat burning, the trees outside starting to get blurrier not just from the car speeding up but the tears starting to rise, and the heat rushing to my cheeks I’ll never forget. As soon as we pulled into the driveway I ran into my house and into my room, I looked in the mirror and studied my face thinking if I was pretty enough maybe it would make up for my laziness or my lack of personality. After that day I started looking for makeup tutorials, which haircuts would suit my face shape, and foods that would make me slimmer. Of course it didn’t stop there, I won’t go Into to much detail but I remember me & her were sitting in a line to a car wash, I was having a good day so I striked up a conversation with her, as I was smiling and making jokes I opened my eyes and saw her staring at my mouth, “Your teeth are really yellow, you know?” I didn’t say a word the rest of the car ride. And I stopped smiling with teeth after that, and a few months later I asked her to bring me to the store to get me whiting strips. I remember the look on her face, she looked sad and asked me why I would want those, I simply said “My teeth are yellow”. She’s also made countless comments on my eating habits and my weight which lead to more serious problems. As well as her comments on my personality worsening my anxiety. I still live with her now years later and still suffer from these kinds of comments.

Hey everyone! I am looking for a duo to just game in voice with and hopefully become friends! I'm a bit of a night owl so I'm on every night for a good while. We could even have movie nights or just chill and talk if we want! Right now I'm playing games like Phasmophobia, Dead by Daylight, CSGO (not very good) but I'm really down for any game. I do want to play and finish Raft as well.
Other games I have and like playing - Minecraft, The Forest, COD: MW2, Rainbow 6, Apex Legends, Rocket League (average), LoL (been a while and I'm not very good). I do have more games but I'm too lazy to put them all. I also am down to play Valorant and Overwatch if you don't mind me sucking, haven't played them yet! Also also, I have a PS5 with a bunch of games!
A little about me - I love to watch movies, literally do anything outdoors and listen to music. I'm also into graphic design for sports and cooking/baking!
Please be 18+ and shoot me a message and maybe tell me a bit about yourself, looking forward to hearing from ya! :)

Obligatory long time lurker first time poster disclaimer..also on mobile instead of Browser so I’m sorry for the formatting.
To start I met my partner (30m) two years ago, we’ve lived together for one. He has two children from previous relationships, (12m &3m) and I knew that from the beginning. We waited till we were together for a year before my partner introduced his eldest and I. Now I’m not the first girlfriend my partner has introduced him to the last one is his younger brothers mother but things ended very badly between her and my partner so the separation was very quick. I made it very clear to my partner and to both moms that I had no intention of taking ones place or trying to play step mommy. But was around to pick up the baby whenever I was needed and helped out with childcare here and there. When his eldest and I first met things were weird obviously I was asked a lot of questions but one that stuck out the most was him asking if I really loved his dad and if I would leave him the way the last one did. Broke my heart. Since then we’ve had a pretty good relationship as far as I knew. To the point where I take him to school on the Monday’s that we had him for the weekend prior, when his dad works nights I let him stay up to watch movies with me or play video games. His dad and I both embrace his hobbies be it sports or legos or anything else he’s asked us for. We’re are constantly looking for things to do on our weekends because it’s something different from his everyday routine. As per the discussions I’ve heard from his mom to my partner and how she speaks to her son and a few other things his home life is very…broken. Coming from his acting out in school to him being distructive and bullying he’s going through alot right now. From what he’s said and asked us over the last year is questions about what would change if he came to live with us, or what happens if he wants to live with us. I come from a separated family, had to go through my own court case with my mom and birth father because after 15 years he decided he wanted to try to take me from my mom. So I have a little insight on how this process works. When he’s asked me on those drives to school(just me and him) I’ve answered as honestly but neutrally as possible. Yes, I’ve told him that he’s getting to that age that if he wanted to he could make the choice and it would be taken into consideration at court. He’s not at that age yet so when he asked if he should tell his mom I said ‘no maybe not yet because right now we can’t do anything but if that’s something you want then you need to talk to your dad.’ At the end of every answer or piece of advice I give him I aways end with ‘this is something you should ask your dad about’ There in lies the core of our problem. This happens two weeks ago and this weekend when we went to go pick him up we were told that we would not be seeing him and that I was a disgusting person for trying to take her son away..somewhere in our conversation he got it in his head that I told him to create an escape plan and that he shouldn’t tell his mom till that day actually happens. According to the foul text I received from her (she’s only two years older than me please keep that in mind (she’s also a teen mom who cheated in both marriages and alienated my partner from his son for 11 years while cycling men in and out of the house the entire time) I am a childish disgusting mentally Ill psycho who needs help. He told his dad that he felt uncomfortable around me and refused to come with us if I was there. (It’s my apartment) after all the late night Friday’s doing homework after games, early morning Saturdays at games, washing dishes they all leave on the couch when their done, washing all their clothes even at the last minute, driving across town and from the house and school to take lost back packs and forgotten shoes…every home made dinner he exclaimed that he loved that I made for him because his mom only knows how to cook eggs (he said this) At the end of all this he doesn’t want to be around me because I’ve made him uncomfortable. He ended up going to his cousins where he’s allowed to stay up all day and night eat junk food and play video games. Things we don’t do here cause she’s had him grounded from all tech for over two months and we don’t eat junk food and have a 10 o’clock bedtime. My partner thinks this is his way of getting out of coming with us to go and be with his cousin instead but I don’t know I’m getting attacked from all angles, his mom, him, her family and I don’t like the way this feels. Would I be wrong for only doing the bare minimum and no longer answering his questions or call him pet names like I do to his brother and father because his mom called me a disgusting person for trying to steal her son?

This one is about a bunch of girls who help their friend after being dumped by her boyfriend. They try to make her good look in the beach party to make the ex boyfriend jelous(like revenge)

I literally just want to suck dick, looking for a relationship but also just want to suck anonymous dick too. Is sniffies good for this? I'm not the most fit nor the most attractive but I'm down for dick. Could I find some on that site even if I'm mid tier.

One common trait of primary psychopaths is calm under conditions that the general public believes should make everyone hysterical.
I am not a primary psychopath, though my parents both were. I do, however, exhibit many primary-psychopathic traits.
I am including some personal anecdotes, slightly colorful to be sure, to encourage discussion.
Primary psychopaths are basically anhedonic, mistrustful, and often apathetic. Their sensation-seeking, rule-breaking, attention-seeking, paraphilias, criminal versatility, etc. stem largely from just being bored and depressed. I lack sensation-seeking: I prefer not to use mind-altering substances. I avoid entertainment and sex.
Sullen indifference is not lost on any reasonably intelligent person and repels them even when masked, leading to attention-seeking tantrums. Two friends who were firestarters as children grew up to set themselves on fire for the same reason: boredom and numbness.
Primary psychopaths are characterized by enlarged striata, visible on MRI, which leads to increased need for stimulation, and by the Warrior Gene. Warriors are routinely called upon not only to take lives but to sacrifice their own.
Intelligence is essential in any great warrior, so it makes sense that a warrior caste would be suspicious, bored and indifferent (callous), and more interested in ends than means (duplicity, lying, manipulation, ruthlessness, violence): if you enjoy life, how will you take pleasure in being a shadow on the battlefield, knowing that you may not survive the engagement?
If a normal person is threatened by Medicaid fraudsters, he will probably just take the medical care and hope the goons won't hurt him. In such a situation, I knew their goal was life insurance, not Medicaid fraud, so I tried to kill myself in ways that would have killed most people (attempted drowning in extremely polluted water, marked as a drowning risk due to strong currents, then drank my own urine for 3 days while stopping antibiotics midcourse, hoping to develop a superbug to thank my friends and neighbors) but barely hurt me: I am the son of an unrelentingly brutal special forces commander, who raped his own soldiers, castrated Blacks for sport, prided himself on devising new methods of killing with his bare hands, and lamented the unscrupulousness of people selected to provide information under torture). He and my mother -- a pedophile, castration fetishist, FGM fetishist, rape fetishist, trafficker (cocaine, children, slaves), arranger of murders for hire, money launderer, and money other interests -- conceived me with inconceivable impulsivity while cash-strapped, then took out a life insurance policy on me, circumcised me instead of reassigning me at birth as indicated, and waited for me to die. They threw in some fake psychiatric diagnoses, medications with disfiguring side effects, many medical rapes, substandard education, time in GULAG...
Daddy's second wife, who did her family of guards at GULAG in Siberia proud by getting a promotion to surveil rich people and push them out windows, stalked me for years, then decided to castrate and enslave me. I wish I had been reassigned at birth, but being 40-year-old nutless Lurch just doesn't seem like fun.
I refused slavery, so she robbed my friends to make me disappear into GULAG ( State psych). I let my friends know, so they demanded the money from the life insurance policy. Failing that, extirpation of everyone who robbed my friends. It'll happen.
Instead of killing myself, it may be advantageous to move somewhere other than a kleptopsychocracy. I have earned respect from homicidal psychopaths for staying cool when beaten bloody.
I have some classic primary psychopathic traits. For instance, I was struck by a speeding Jeep when celebrating my 26th birthday and Thanksgiving in 2010..
I was strolling across 3rd Avenue and paused to let the speeding Jeep, two blocks ahead of the other traffic, go by, figuring I would then just stroll to he curb.
My best friend at the time had a fight-or-flight reaction and risked his life to pull me into the path of the Jeep, himself falling down and being grazed in the process.
I was slammed directly in my left side, then grew giddy as I bounced of the hood, then the windshield, then the roof, which gave me a really beautifully blurred view of the white Christmas lights on the trees. I thought of the 1995 season finale of Law and Order, in which Claire Kincaid, played by Jill Hennessy (a then-famous Cover Girl model), was distracted by her conversation with her boss, Jack McCoy (played by Sam Waterston), and was killed in a driver's side crash. The lights in that episode were just like what I was seeing. How the hell did the producers know how it should look? I thought of asking a childhood acquaintance whose dad worked on the show to tell his dad, then lamented they would never know because I would be dead. I hit the pavement, landing on my back. The tires touched my left hip. I thought having crushed c&b in the middle of 3rd Avenue would be really gross, so I was relieved when the Jeep didn't run over me. I wiggled my toes and figured everything would be a stupid formality, which was true.
My friend stood over me, screaming. His hair looked so thick, he looked so beautiful, and so... bothered... I was thinking of how unfair it was that my birthday was being ruined by ordinary people with their procedures.
I was lying in the middle of 3rd Avenue, staring up at this amazing specimen, only for him to scream hysterically instead of helping me up so we could continue celebrating at the nearest motel.
They would inevitably call an ambulance and blame me for waiting for the speeding Jeep to pass, which indeed happened. Then tragedy struck: the ambulance crew had the unmitigated gall to tell me not to sit up and take off my shirt.
That was a vintage Brooks Brothers navy blue Golden Fleece tennis shirt. I was scarred for life as they cut the shirt, the scissors moving menacingly toward my face, just to remind me that I would be a miserable failure (true, but not because of the shirt).
I had struck my head on the pavement and could not urinate. I stayed on a Foley catheter for a while and walked out of the hospital the evening.
My only injuries were bruising, a scrape on my right hand, and a hairline fracture, barely perceptible on x-ray, in my lumbar spine.
My mother insisted I have physical therapy. I pointed out that there was nothing to do but wait for my body to heal. I knew she just wanted to play the hysterical mother, worried about her adult son who didn't know how to cross the street by himself. Yup...
When my mother was dying, I was livid that people were upset: I was the person closest to her. If I don't mind, how dare they encroach on my indifference?! I remarked around that time, quite sincerely and incessantly, that people who mourn the dead should be killed: not only for coveting the dead but for pretending to they feel sorry for the dead instead of admitting they feel sorry for themselves.
I really enjoyed exposing my crooked family to my former friends they robbed: they fucked up their payment plan and now they and their American friends, to whom they spread around my friends' money, cannot be saved.
I really hope they really, really spread it around, because then there will be mass casualties. If good Russians won't starve Europe, can they at least liquidate New York? It's like blowing up Syria: someone has to do it.
It would really work out well for me: I live in New York and my life sucks, so that way I shouldn't have to keep sleeping and metabolizing and would die knowing that the people I see every miserable day would never make trouble again. I could just die instead of making more decisions.
I always regretted not having killed my parents before I turned 12. Mommy got away scot free, but Daddy and his nearest and dearest fucked themselves.
I actually asked if I could help out with the torture, but no one needs me for anything. I'm always ready to roll up my sleeves to help a friend. If you can't kill your family, how are you supposed to kill strangers?

I’m looking to get sports rotors and breaks too. Any company suggestions? I want something of good quality

Good Evening-
BLUF (Bottom Line Up Front): Stats and Interests Below the Cut-Line. Rationale and Compatibility Analysis Directly Below.
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I am seeking monogamy and commitment from one lady and I am willing to show the same. Currently located in Northern Virginia, but will undoubtedly re-locate due to my career within the next 18 months or so.
I think that the only reasons we might not be compatible are preferences for looks, our careers (especially me in the Navy), sexual compatibility, and how we spend our free time. As for other reasons- I pride myself in communication, problem solving, patience, chivalry, authenticity, and being altruistic.
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Statistics: 6’2, Soon to be 36 YO, 196 lbs, 34 waist, Pulse 52, BP 118/72, Shoe- 12, xxx-7.25, Credit Score 807. Foster Homes Lived In-28, Schools Attended- 23. 43 countries visited, Deployments (USN)- 5, Kids- 0. Black Hair, Hazel Eyes, Lean-Athletic Muscular build. Sweet smile, great calves, aging grey temples, youthful/positive face. The usually response I get is either “fuck yes” or “fuck no” - I realize I am not everyone’s type. 5k PR: 1557- college. Mile-4:17- high school (RI all-state). Undergrad: USNA. Master’s: GWU, USNWC
Red Flags 2 Marriages, 1 other Engagement. Broken hearts- many. Times broken-hearted- 2. Currently separated. Introverted and Calculated decision maker due to upbringing. Analytical for good and bad reasons. Harry Potter House Ravenclaw Hat-Stall to Slytherin. Left-Handed, 800M SAT Score. Have won over 600k lifetime gambling (A hobby now, used to be a matter of life/death when I was youngehomeless as a teen).
Personality Assessment: Altruistic and Thoughtful people-pleaser. Detail-oriented and sexually charged gentleman. More cooperative and curious than critical. Constantly self-assessing and self-correcting, reflective and strives for improvement. Aims to use own experience to better others in close proximity and to scale. INTJ, love languages physical touch and quality time. Future POTUS, RI GOV, or Government SES, Navy Ship Captain. Vulnerability, Passion, and Compassion are Hallmarks (See Brene Brown/Esther Perel TED Talks).
Interests: Sports fanatic- specifically Boston teams. Board/Card games. Intellectual/Philosophical conversations. Human Behavior, Running, Walking, Pokémon Go, improving my teams around me, including family. Road trips, traveling- especially San Diego, Miami, Vegas, NYC, the beach, kissing, giving massages, finding a partner who wants to deeply connect romantically and physically and discuss and act out our fantasies. Improving our EQ and erotic intelligence together.
Someone will really like this and I hope if you are interested, we could write our success story here. I am an eternal optimist and I realize that you can’t small talk on apps the way I would really like to get to the heart of serious issues. If you are genuinely ambitious yet humble from our beginnings- maybe one of us is the First Spouse to the other, or, the half of a great partnership and earn the title of best parent, or co-chefs in our house together. Coach of the kids’s sports team is cool, too.
I have almost all the pieces I have to make life great and for me it is- just hoping to find that force multiplier where we can enhance our lives and take each other to a place of leadership and bliss that not even we can imagine right now!

I have been in LA since May 6th, but every day I'm here I'm more and more confused about where I want to live. Based on the info below, where do you think I should check out?
About me: I'm a 29, queer, poc, single woman, hoping to make a career in art/writing. I moved to find more creatives & community, to find my future wife, and to enjoy the warm weather. I do really enjoy swimming, so ideally would love access to a pool or beach. And I really need walkability to get me out of the house, and access to good parks (esp 420 friendly ones). I love thrifting and markets, I am a night owl so really love it when there are places open late near me. And I do have a car, but I really enjoy being able to hop on a bus or walk somewhere instead of having to drive 100%. I would love to have a ~500-600 sq ft studio that feels modern. My budget is under $2800/month
Places I've looked into, and the hesitations that make me confused:
West Hollywood: Very pricey and people say it's catered to predominantly white male gays. Love the nightlife and general greenery
Los Feliz: Pricey, not many apartments, and people say it gets boring living there. Very cute and I like the vermont/hillhurst strips
Silver Lake: Pricey, not many apartments, not very walkable, and people say it's kinda fake/hipster. I love the thrifting opportunities and central location
Echo Park: Pricey, not many apartments. I like the park and location, but not sure if I can find an apartment there.
North Hollywood: Feels small and a bit removed; the walkability of it is kind of limited to a few streets. I do like that it's a bit of a chiller vibe and has a good amount affordable apartments.
DTLA: Everyone seems to have a horror story of living in DTLA. I was about to sign on an apartment in South Park, but was worried that the mess and griminess of the city would get to me. Love the walkability, but not sure if it's safe at night.
Santa Monica: Pricey, lots of tech people. Santa Monica feels like SF where artists are getting priced out, so I'm worried about not finding my people. Otherwise, good walkability and beach access
Long Beach: Far from most other places, I'm a bit worried about there not being as much to do. Seems like there's a good queer community here, good access to the beach and generally walkable in some areas.
Feel free to share new places I should check out! Honestly, I am having a hard time feeling like I love LA. I've lived in SF and Seattle before, and LA just feels very harsh and disparate in many areas by comparison. I feel like in SF/Seattle, you could kind of live most places and be able to access everything else quickly. Not so much here, so I've really been stressing about where I should go. Any help is greatly appreciated!!

I love sucking dick, I love the way they just submit so easily. I love them even more with the look on
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their face when they're begging you to let them cum or when they call me mummy.
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I love the idea of having a good boy laying on my lap as I run my fingers through his hair or having
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him suck my tits as I stroke his cock.
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I love to fuck raw. I know condoms are safer, but everything just feels so much better without.
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I always say... "Why don't you put just the tip in? Then we can try a condom if you want."
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They always go for it.
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There are those few se conds of rubbing your dick up and down my pussy while they decide... knowing they won't be able to pull out, but not being able to pass up the chance to fuck raw.
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That first thrust is always incredible. They just sit there at first, then start thrusting really slowly, desperately trying to keep their composure. Always, within a minute, I'm being mercilessly pounded. Not long after, I'm being filled with cum.

I 21f love my 22m partner very much, that is why I am still here, but lately my mood swings on the drop of a dime, and I feel like I will ruin the momentum of or just straight up ruin a good day/night. Even can be triggered by him complimenting me, and trying to be intimate with me. I often feel like sex is something he wants to do to me, not with me, and it has nothing to do with him loving me, but rather just using me to masturbate. Yesterday there was a woman our age on the street in a see through sports bra asking for money, and I was driving and did not acknowledge, and he asked me to give her $10 Maybe it’s fucked up of me but all I could say and think was “really?” And then I once I parked I asked him if he was alone if he would have felt all excited and nervous about that action and he replied that he would have and so he was sorry he put me in that position.
I go to the gym with him, we are talking making eye contact and then I see his brain and eyes drift away from our conversation and look where he is and, oh what would you know! Woman in a skin tight short dress! Nice babe! Anyways this is just in front of my face in the last couple of weeks. He’s in SLAA meetings , he’s doing things to actively recover But sometimes when he calls me beautiful and I want to roll my eyes at him and say something mean. Just ranting I guess

I found a package through American Airlines for 3 nights at a hotel and round trip flights for two travelers for about $1,500. We are flying in from Dallas, TX. This is the first trip I’ve booked myself and I’m not sure whether or not this is a good deal. Thank you!!! Also any car rental recommendations that rent to 22 year olds would be appreciated

So I'm 17f at 5'3, I weigh 177.5 right now and I was 190 about 7+ months ago, so it's taken 7 months to lose not even 13 pounds. During the most of that weightloss I was in sports and I was cutting out mostly my sugars, but at most I lost maybe 6 pounds over 2 months of sports, and the rest of it I lost very slowly. Over the last 2 months I've been trying to eat better and get in shape. I'm eating more fruits, more vegetables, less sugar, half a gallon of water. I try to keep my calories around 1500, though sometimes it's 1200-1800, pretty balanced over a good span of time. I've been walking 8-10k steps a day. I'm doing weighted workouts. And over those two months I've lost... 1 pound.
It's extremely disheartening to be working as hard as I am on this and losing almost nothing. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong, I'm doing everything right, and there's no progress from improving my lifestyle. It's tiring and I want to see some progress for my efforts

Maybe I have baby fever…but the idea of getting pregnant by my SD fills a motherly instinct in me. I am 19, and my family has had a history of having babies young..from ages 17-20. I’ve always wanted to be a young mom. As long as I’m financially secure/provided for, I am ready to have a baby anytime.
I also am developing small feels for him. He is significantly older than me(25+ age gap) He has a son of his own that is under 10, and multiple more sons that are grown adults. I know this doesn’t sound like an ideal situation. But if this was fantasy, I’d love to have his kid.
He’s a good father, and he has great genetics…attractive, 6’4, single, good body shape, pretty good health..
We even do things like go on date nights…go to the beach at night and listen to the waves…spending quality time with each-other.
honestly, we both dislike the title SB/SD because we feel our dynamic isn’t necessarily just money and sex
We’ve only been in a SR for about 4 months now..
Since the beginning of our SR, he’s mentioned that he is still paying to keep his sperm frozen just incase..(has vasectomy) I would have never thought of having a baby with him if he would have never told me that.
This sounds so crazy typing this..and honestly I think this may be one of those things you keep to yourself rather than post. But it’s just a feeling and thought I keep thinking about.
I’ve always wanted to date older men…so regardless if I’m in the bowl or not I believe the father of my kid would be an older man.

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”