grayson’s blog :)

Grieving People Who Haven't Died February 28th is a really strange day for me this year. Today marks one year since I realized I was in love with someone. I could point out to you just about where on that Providence sidewalk it clicked for me. This is what I wrote when I came home that night:  Friday I realized that I’m in love with you. The energy in the room was great and everyone was getting along so you were happy. You looked at me and smiled and I wish I was able to take 1000 photos of that moment. For a moment my world stood still and even sound hesitated to enter my ears. Though you weren’t dressed up I thought you looked beautiful. You’re beautiful simply because you’re you. You passed through me like sunlight in a dense forest and gently warmed my chest. The energy shot up to behind my eyes and I felt all my senses expand into another dimension the same way they do during the best part of a favorite song. I looked into your eyes and wanted nothing more than to be truthful ...

 Blogger, things have been insane lately. I’ve been sitting here for so long trying to describe how I feel but I’ve been finding it harder and harder to convey my emotions at all these past few months. All I can really write today is that I was going through some old videos of my music scene and I slightly spiraled thinking about how everything ended between those people and me.  However, I was also just digging through my old writings from 2025 and I found this abstract ramble from July that really resonated with me. I rephrased a few things to better fit me now but at least it helped me get the emotions out: the clock strikes three as i, agonized, lay curled sideways on my bed. my organs creak mournfully, punished after all they’ve done to me. the blood pools to my heart, once lifted by air, now too dense to stay afloat. it sinks from my chest to the floor in one trembling sigh. it lands in a bath of moonlight from my window, feeling drowned by being seen.  in my own ey...

Professors, Basic Human Decency, and Emotional Trauma Skipping so much context, I am estranged from my father. He was emotionally abusive to me growing up, and after being on and off with him for a few years, I stopped talking to him entirely in August.  The final chance I gave him was to have a conversation with my brother and I about how he's treated us for our entire lives. The two-hour conversation started and ended with the exact same sentence: "I don't know what I've done to make you two treat your father like this" (yes, in third person). The lack of an apology (besides maybe one "I'm sorry you feel that way," aka not a real apology) or any accountability at all got to me worse than anything he ever said to me growing up. The moment I realized he repeated himself, I said, "This conversation is over. We got nowhere," and drove off with my brother to Chili's to at least try to make my brother feel better. My brother is younger tha...

 Weekend Cope-a-thons: A Look into the Day of a Totally Normal Guy I hate weekends. There used to be a time where I would spend all day and even nights with my friends, but with all the unfortunate changes lately, I don't see anyone anymore. Everyone I was hanging out with on weekends last year is now out of my life for one lame reason or another. From being outright excluded for no reason to sexual harassment, I've had to cut out a lot of people recently.  It sucks! While it's good that all these asshats are out of my life, I'm left in this weird transitional state. While I may have friends, I'm not at a stage with anyone where I'm invited to just hang out and vice versa. I really miss just being invited to the campus dining hall or someone's place to just shoot the shit or study or play dumb games on our phones together. I'm at a point now where when anyone thinks of me for anything, I get overwhelmed with appreciation. It's so bad that I sobbed in...

Can’t believe it’s February already. That means it’s been nearly a year since I realized I was in love (February 28th). The number of cigarettes I’ve smoked outside of my campus’ music building, in tears over that loser, while listening to  Romantic  and  Drunk II  by Mannequin Pussy on repeat, has already reached an embarrassing amount. Those songs mean so much to me after how everything turned out, and what’s crazy is that those are two of Loser’s favorite MP songs too. Whatever man. He’s a poser.  But the good news is that maybe I’m healing. I came to a really scary but relieving realization yesterday: I think I like a girl. This is scary because it means I’m moving on from Loser, which for whatever reason, frightens me. I think it’s because even months later, I’m still struggling to process that he’s not in my life anymore. I keep treating him like the person I knew pre and post all The Horrors are two different people, and that the ‘old’ version of him and ...