Hello my 03 base auto rsx just recently threw the p1077 code I firstly checked the hoses and they all seemed fine so I took apart the assembly and cleaned and put it back together with a new sensor after it not looking damaged in any way and that didn’t seem to fix it. I’m not sure if I should buy the IMRC solenoid or get a new rotary valve. The car doesn’t seem to be any different in terms of power it feels the normal base model slow still. I will try to get a multimeter and check the connections for everything. But I have seen some discussions talking about how the ecm needs to be reset after replacing some part and I’m not sure if it’s needed for what I’ve done / am going to do. My plans for now are check the connections if those are all good then replace the solenoid and then lastly the whole valve. Any help would be appreciated I’ve read a lot of the stuff on here and club rsx and I’m still unsure what to do next.

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Wednesday's Games

Away	Score	Home	Score	Status	National
				1:05
				1:05
				1:05
				1:07
				1:10
				1:10
				4:05
★				4:05
				4:05
		★		4:05
				4:10
				6:05
				9:05
				9:40

^★Game Thread. All game times are Eastern. Updated 3/22 at 6:05 AM
Yesterday's ATH

This Week's Schedule (all times Eastern)

Day	Feature
Sunday 3/19	ICYMI: World Baseball Classic Quarterfinals 2 Game 2: United States @ Venezuela (Miami, Florida) - Postgame Thread
	World Baseball Classic Semifinals Game 1: Cuba vs United States (Miami, Florida) - Postgame Thread
Monday 3/20	Why will the Guardians exceed expectations? Why won't they?
	World Baseball Classic Semifinals Game 2: Mexico vs Japan (Miami, Florida) - Postgame Thread
Tuesday 3/21	Why will the Padres exceed expectations? Why won't they?
	[World Baseball Classic Championship: United States vs Japan (Miami, Florida)]() - [Postgame Thread]()
Wednesday 3/22	Why will the Yankees exceed expectations? Why won't they?
Thursday 3/23	Why will the Phillies exceed expectations? Why won't they?
Friday 3/24	Why will the Astros exceed expectations? Why won't they?
Saturday 3/25	Baseball Movie Club: Baseball: A Film by Ken Burns (1994)

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Currently doing LDR with my (f19) bf (m19) of 3 years. We started dating in high school.
Our relationship was as good as they came. Better than most of our peers at the time . We communicated well, never fought and argued rarely, we supported and uplifted each other in everything we did, we had fun, we enjoyed each other’s company, we were really close friends before we started dating. Etc. Everything felt right.
Then, college came into the picture. We both applied to the same university that’s 9 hours away from our home town. It has great programs for both of our career prospects, not just because we wanted to go to the same university together (Although that was a bonus). I got accepted, he didn’t. We decided to give long distance a try, under the agreement that he’ll try to transfer next year and hopefully get in.
Well, fast forward to almost a year later. Our relationship has been through it. I left feeling pretty secure and stable in the relationship, thinking we could do it. But, he wasn’t ready. LDR kinda brought out the worst of ourselves. First semester was awful. We fought every week, and it felt like we were hitting a brick wall every single time. Arguments that used to be solvable through conversations and communication in the past, were now just us going in circles. We couldn’t see each other much either. Overall it just sucked. This semester we’re doing better and in therapy. Except, now we’ve become incredibly busy. We try to make time for “movie nights” on FaceTime one night every weekend, since frequent calls and texts aren’t always guaranteed with our busy schedules and time zone differences.
But, I realized… it still isn’t enough. My mental health was declining. I cried so much for him one month, it was almost kinda concerning. I like to think we’re pretty independent and individualistic from each other. We have our own hobbies, clubs, academic goals, social life, etc. I like to think that’s healthy right? At least we’re not codependent to each other. Except, after spending a pretty lonely Valentine’s Day, I realized holy shit, this is really depressing for me. I’m not sure I can do this anymore.
We had our anniversary weekend last week, and I had felt so disconnected from him from the lack of physical intimacy in general. Not sex, exactly, but just the lack of his presence. It felt as though for the past few months I didn’t really have a boyfriend. I dont blame him, but the fault lies in our situation I guess. It just felt like I didnt really know him anymore, and that we had grown apart or became pretty different as people. Being away from home (my home life was toxic) has definitely made me grow into a different person for sure. I’m not the same person I was in august. And I’m not sure if that accounts to why I dont feel like I click with him anymore.
We will only get busier. And I’m not sure I can guarantee time for him. I’m not sure he can either. I have an internship this summer in a different city, so more time away still. He applied to some other schools besides my university, and got accepted to one 3 hours away from my university town. It’s a great school for his career prospects. And it looks like he may go there.
I’ve talked about it to some extent with him, but it seems like he thinks our situation is not great, but doable. That he has faith in our relationship. He thinks we can persevere it. He thinks 3 hours away compared to the 9 hour difference is better. That we’d see each other every weekend etc. Except, I dont. I dont have faith anymore, just doubts. I dont think I can do LDR no matter how far away we are from each other. I’ve grown unhappy with our situation. And thinking about doing this for more years possibly makes me even more sad. But I love him, I want him in my life. He’s my best friend. He’s a great guy. The thought of losing him scares me.
I know these feelings aren’t fair for him or myself. I plan to have an open honest conversation about it with him in person. But idk… should that conversation lead to the possibility that we should break up? Or should I give it a chance still? I fluctuate between these two things often, but I feel like the doubts are winning over. Or maybe they’re genuine grounds on breaking up. Idk anymore.
TLDR; Currently doing LDR with my (f19) bf (m19) of 3 years. We started dating in high school. I dont think I can do LDR anymore but I dont want to lose him.

Link to original story
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/10meqmh/the_big_rock_candy_mountain_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
The floor of the cell is covered in decades of mildew and dust. This disgusting carpet does nothing to dull the pain as I skip across it, thrown in by someone with the intention of making a point.
My Name’s Mike, and if any of you are the types to go on a deep dive, you probably know A little about me already.
For those of you that don’t, Jesus I don’t know exactly where to begin.
The Cliff’s notes would be that I spent a little over a decade either being a serial killer or a vigilante. I won’t try to justify my actions, both of those are just sides of the same shitty coin. I’m not a person to be idolized or emulated, so I choose not to plead my case.
Now, while I thought that was just about as screwed up as life could get, one day, out of the blue, after burying my best, fuck, my only friend I found myself, somewhere else. A world that looked and felt like mine, but one where the things that go bump in the night actually existed.
Where I came from, I’d seen monsters, to be sure, but only the kind that happen when people break.
Since I’ve been here? Got caught up in some demented gameshow for demons or something, threw a massive shit in the punch bowl of the thing running the production, and got the world’s unluckiest man his freedom.
And that leads me to my current situation, staring down the rage filled, mildly bruised face of that asshole, that fucking, demonic Ted Turner, Art.
He runs a hand aggressively through his slicked back hair, standing at the door to my cell.
“Looks like your little plan didn’t work, exactly as I predicted, you fuck.
I mean, great try with the little cat thing you had, honestly didn’t see that coming. But, Jesus, Mike, what was your end game? “ Art gloats.
“Cards on the table? It was a lot better, but shit fell through, that whiskey abomination, it was the one that ratted me out I assume?
That being said, still got Kev out. And you can’t really ‘flip off his lightswitch’ if he didn’t let you screw around with his wiring, can you? “ I grin, I keep it, even as a Gucci shoe slams into my face.
Am I scared? Of God damn course I am, I’ve been pissing myself (metaphorically speaking.) since I realised that the rules of reality don’t really apply any more.
Every new grain of sand on the beach of hell my life has become, tosses me further down the road of mental failure. Shit, that’s half of what fucked up my last plan in the first place.
If I could have just kept my shit together long enough, I’d be sipping a beer with Kev in some shit hole town somewhere. But the only thing harder than trying to stamp down fear in the face of God’s and monsters, is trying to do it while projecting some kind of ‘death fears me ‘ persona.
Between you and I? Death doesn’t fear me, in fact, it seems to love to hang around. And every day I have to stare down that grim spectre, the closer I get to losing the tenuous grip on reality I have .
“Oh, fuck Kev. He’s smart enough to stay off my radar, and too stupid to figure out a way to come back at me.
He's got a 1 bedroom in Idaho or something? Salud, good on him.
You, I had high hopes for, and then you decide to wipe your ass all over my carpet, cost me more than I could even explain, and even, get me a little roughed up. My favorite shell, anyway.
I want to recoup some loses Mike. So, you, get to be a part of another one of my projects.
You thought The Path was bad? Oh, you literal, fucking clown, you haven’t seen anything.
I won’t spoil it for you, the devil’s in the details and all, but you know what everyone loves?
Prison.
Not being in it themselves, of course, but seeing others, especially those they hate in there.
This place isn’t fair, the path was a boxing match with Queensbury rules, this is a handcuffed knife fight.
And I can’t wait to see you figure out, all the little surprises it has in store for you. “ Art laughs and tosses me a battered, ancient looking smartphone, “ Feel free to drum me up some good press online if you want. “
My heart is pounding, I have to use every bit of will I have to stop from shaking, to roll my neck and sit against the cold, padless cement bed behind me.
I feel sick, my stomach boiling and gurgling.
“For the love of whatever the demonic equivalent of Christ is, why not just kill me? I’m right here, I have no way of fighting back, and you know damn well that if you give me enough time, I’m going to find a way to wipe my ass on your doorframe next. “ My tone is flippant, or at least, I hope it is.
“The ego on you kid, you think you’re that guy don’t you?
They exist, don’t get me wrong, probably a couple thousand folks capable of taking me out, but trust me, you are not one of them.
This isn’t some ‘Arch’ idiocy where I leave my greatest rival alive. This is me watching you squirm because I can, and making a little profit on the deal.
Don’t flatter yourself. “ Art has produced a long thin knife as he talks, he spins and rolls it absently.
“Before your guys dragged me off, I met something. A corner store, I don’t know if it was haunted, possessed, or if it was some kind of creature that just decided to look like a knock off 7-11.
Point being, it was out there, ethereal, I couldn’t hurt it, outwit it, even slow it down. I ran from that thing as fast as I could. It gave me some serious Lovecraft vibes.
You, Art, are not that guy. “ I notice myself tapping my finger nervously on the slime covered floor, I focus, stopping the tic.
The tip of Art’s knife glows, the sick, grey sheen isn’t heat, but something that makes me start to back up.
“I am, but you will never see that. You’re not worth the effort.
I want to give you a little something though. “ Art stalks toward me, I stand as I back into the farthest corner of the cell, “ Proud of your face paint were you? “
Art grins, and for a moment lets some of his true self slip through. For just a moment I see timeless horror in his eyes, a dark black void of consumed souls and unrestrained evil.
That knife parts my flesh with pain like a whip. Without even using the blade, it’s presence flenses my face, opening up raw, textured furrows in my flesh.
He leaves after he is done, laughing to himself.
The pain makes me black out, my stomach is boiling, I come to dry heaving, the effort sends me back into the oblivion of sleep.
I don’t know how long has passed, my face feels like it is on fire, and the thick steel bars of my cell door are closed.
It takes me two minutes of cupping my hands under the grime laden steel tap to get enough water to clear off a spot on the rusted, old, wall mounted steel mirror.
No mortal hand could have scarred me as accurately as Art did. The wounds, not healed, but cauterised as to not make me bleed out, used depth, and width, to create a colorless replica of my makeup.
I know trauma, physical as well as mental, and these are scars that will never heal. As the fact sinks in that my face is literally no longer my own, I scream, heart pounding, I split open my knees on the cold cement floor.
Pain flares, threatens to send me back to the bliss of unconsciousness, but I don’t care.
I read Kev’s journals, and they paint me in a really… positive light, in a sense.
What I mean is, going by what he thought he saw, I’m some kind of supervillian or something. Tossing three hundred pound air conditioners ( it was the outer shell, seventy pounds, physics and luck did the rest.), wrestling Art ( I was clinging on for dear life, had it not been for Jr and the mass of denizens, I’d have been killed with a flick of his wrist.), or appearing like a ghost (people, even immortal are very unobservant. Especially in an emergency.).
I’m great at seeming horrifying, and that’s a weapon in and of itself, but at the end of the day, that’s all it is.
Kneeling in my own blood, vision blurry with pain, I realise how small, vulnerable, and unarmed I truly am.
By the time daylight shines through the yellow reinforced glass window, I’m already awake. I’ve spent an hour and a half calming myself, trying to find some focus, some centre to keep me going.
I’ve been in prison before, back home, first and last time I tried plying my trade outside of America.
Being the stupid payaso gringo that I am I bit off so much more than I can chew that I wound up choking on it for 2 months in a Mexican prison.
The routine of, count, lineup, chow, remained the same.
The demographics of the population on the other hand…
Being observant is one of my main skills and as I was brought into the absurdly sized cafeteria, I was taken aback at just how many people were here.
Tens of Thousands, easily, maybe a hundred. I try and think of how many missing person cases this accounts for, and even that math doesn’t quite add up.
I quickly inventory the groups that make up the place, not that it wasn’t obvious.
The first, of course are the guards. Some, the majority, appear to be human, well geared up and in intimidating physical condition.
But a handful, they are clearly, something else. Some are smooth featured ebony skinned giants, carrying truncheons that could crush a car engine. Others are grinning, pale skinned bad attempts at human copies, wild eyed and twitching.
Second would be what I called the cultists. They all appeared to style themselves after certain tropes and urban legends, clearly human, but dressing, tattooing and mutilating themselves to appear like, myths, legends, and monsters.
The subtle violence I see tells me I’ve found the gangs.
Third are the Everymen, I can’t see any kind of pattern to them, but they seem to make up the majority of the population. They keep their distance from the guards and the cultists, but on more than one occasion I see then stand, united against attempts at extortion.
The last group, I call the candles, people that are clearly on their way out mentally and physically. Sunken eyed, and set upon from all angles, at any moment these folks could be simply snuffed out.
I keep my distance, and stay respectful, the meandering, twisting line seems to take hours to get me my thick slice of crumbling yellow bread, and thick red slurry that reminds me of porridge masquerading as meat.
My coat is gone but I’m left with the majority of the clothing I fashioned back in the path. I see a mix of unwashed orange uniforms and ‘civilian’ clothing, some of the cultists, bordering more on costume than wardrobe.
As the massive, butchers apron wearing man in smeared clown makeup sits down, I wish I’d have been issued something more generic. I saw this coming the second I noticed a lump of Chlorophiles in blood stained getups.
“You sit with us. “ I can’t tell if it’s an accent or speech pattern, the clown sounds strange, either way.
I eat a spoonful of the red sludge.
“No disrespect intended, I’m not one for clubs. I’m going to make no waves, no plays, nothing. I’m a ghost. “ I say, levelly, avoiding eye contact.
Why, you might ask, having been told about my adventures in murder.
Well, that’s just it. Murder is easy, and any time you saw me end a life, it was just that.
A fight, that’s another thing entirely, especially against someone with a significant weight and height advantage.
“Not asking. You got friends. “ The massive clown moves his bulk closer, it’s like sitting next to a forklift.
I eat the bread, it tastes amazing until I swallow, then has a foul, chemical aftertaste.
I drink some tepid, burgundy fluid that might be caffeinated.
No weapons nearby, no one watching that might step in. I’m full of bruises and sprains, and probably anemic from blood loss. Not to mention one eye is running at about fifty per cent. Art didn’t sever the optic nerve last time, but he wasn’t gentle. My heart races.
“I don’t play well with people who take clowning and slap a coat of dark paint on it.
You guys are Clown Killers. You are good at killing, I’m sure, but the clown part, it’s tacked on.
Myself, I’m a killer clown…. “ I had a really good rant planned, honestly, it was a corker, douche bags would have used it in memes for a decade.
But before I can react, with one massive hand, he bounces my face off of the pitted steel table.
It rings my bell, but not as much as I let on. In clowning terms, what I do Is called a pratfall.
For those of you that don’t speak nerd, I oversell the hit, falling backwards, eyes fluttering.
I tip backwards, reaching out my left arm, as if to steady myself. The meat mountain is unbothered, knowing I have no chance unarmed, in this close, he let’s me grab one shoulder of the butchers apron. The material is thick, and matted in stains that will never come out, literally or metaphorically.
If you want to take someone out, in a relatively harmless way, you don’t want to choke them. It takes forever, usually ends up killing them, and generally is a bad idea for everyone involved.
Your goal is go cut off blood flow to the brain as quickly and fully as possible.
I hook my thumb around the opposite shoulder strap, and snap my body backward, the apron acting as an impromptu Garrotte.
His right arm is knotted through my left, as he tries to struggle, to put his murderous intent and ability to work, the choke only becomes tighter.
I don’t want enemies here, and I only have so many tricks to play before things come to a knock down drag out fight, so I leave the clown unharmed.
I do need friends, but the look I get as I take a seat at a loose collection of men is cold and fearful.
A red haired guy, five foot nine or so, makes eye contact, “Anything we can help you with? “ he says, fearless.
“Yeah, despite the face work I’ve had done, I have fuck all in common with any of those penny wise, Icp, Gacy dressed, assholes.
I need a tribe guys, you all look like the unlucky ones around here, but I don’t want to get involved in bloodshed.
I’m Mike “ I know, that’s only mostly true, but I mean it, either way. I extend a hand.
“Chris. “ the red haired guy says, he wears a white dress shirt and surprisingly blue jeans, “Those stains around your cuffs tell me otherwise.
If you’re telling the truth, that’s great. If you are lying, and still sane enough to keep your word, that’s even better. “ Chris’s tone is mirthless, I read him easily. He’s been here a long time for a short life, he looks thirty max, and I shudder to think how young he may have been when he came in.
Chris catches me up on the ins and outs of this place, beyond what a general knowledge of prison would give.
Everyone here has crimes they were not convicted of, that would, otherwise put them in jail for life. A large amount, obviously are murderers, torturers, real bastards.
But a significant minority are just regular folks, maybe a bit thoughtless, but that have collected a litany of small, petty, in cases almost victim less crimes.
No one seems to be aware of the… reality t.v. Meets demonic fast food aspect of things, but there is a Doom cherry on this fear Sunday.
There is a single way someone can get out. To earn 20 tokens.
And how does one earn these tokens you ask?
Each day the prison holds an event, to call it a challenge would insinuate a level of fair play that is simply not there. The events range from somewhat fair, a fight or game of chance, to esoteric rituals complex enough to rip someone’s soul from their body.
These tokens are also the sole form of currency in the prison, they can buy everything from commissary snacks to literal free passes from guards.
The economy has created a cut throat society, the heads of the cults not even taking advantage of being able to be free, but simply reveling in the power of being psychotic and enabled.
The weak are enslaved, their lives traded on the off chance at tokens.
So, of course, braindead asshole that I am, I signed myself right up. Feeling a little more confidant after climbing Mount Bozo.
It's 8pm and the volunteers are rounded up and brought to a massive room that has all the trappings of a gymnasium, but the scale is large enough easily hold the focus of tonight’s events.
In tiered bleachers all around us, our fellow prisoners cheer and scream. The smell of thousands of unwashed, men is overpowering, the din of excitement is deafening.
But my attention is focussed on the small, single floor home, sitting out of place in the middle of the polished wood floor.
What I wouldn’t give for Demi to appear right now, give me the low down on all the supernatural bullshit that is heading my way. But the longer we stayed in the mountain the less and less the most useful voice in my head could, or would, make an appearance.
I study each of my fellow volunteers, the goal seems simple, last the longest in the home. Men enter and leave within minutes. They come out looking shaken, with minor lacerations, and a general sense of shell shock.
By the time my turn arrives, I think I know what I’m in for.
I’m wrong.
As the baby blue door closes behind me, nothing immediately in the home causes me concern. The fixtures and furniture is a bit out of date, the lighting is, not inviting, and there is a general fog of gloom hanging around.
I smile, I’ve felt this before. Granted I had Demi feeding me supernatural errata at the time, but, I’m positive I can wing it.
“So, I think I may have met one of you guys before. Back in New York, a Happy-Face corner store, anyone you know?
Scary dude, took a couple of pieces out of me.
But this, it’s more like an MMA fight, right? I tap out when you start kicking my ass? “ I stretch, trying to see if I’m getting any kind of reaction.
I inventory the objects around me, last time everything that wasn’t nailed down, shifted, changed and tried to take me apart.
You may have noticed by now, I love using the phrase ‘ last time’, and that’s because up until this moment, I haven’t learned a fucking thing here.
Mike’s first rule of paranormal survival, last time means nothing.
“It’s you” the voice is young, late teens, and male.
I spin, expecting violence, then, wishing violence.
I know the young man, not this pale, older, revenant with a self inflicted gunshot wound, but I know him none the less.
I’m not being metaphorical when I say my heart misses a beat, I almost fall over, pounding at my chest to stop it’s arythmatic pounding.
I knew what happened to him, found it out long after I could do anything about it. And wasn’t in the best of places when I did.
I’ll call him a ghost for simplicity sake, but this kid, he’s my first, and biggest mistake.
I based who I turned into on finding what I thought was one of the worst people on earth. This kid’s father.
I did things to him worthy of what I knew he did. And to top it all off, I had him die by his wife’s hand.
Well, a decade later I find out, the guy wasn’t a Saint, but he didn’t do anything worthy of the twisted shit I put him through.
I got wind of some false information put out there in a moment of rage by a tech savvy ten year old. The kid never intended it to see the light of day
“I found out about you Mike, I saw that you were a hero. “ The voice is thin echoes like a stuck record.
“No kid, don’t think that. “ I mumble, I’m shaking, the air is freezing, each breath comes out as white mist.
I’m sitting on the flower printed couch now, and it hits me.
I’d assumed because Art couldn’t screw around in my head last time, the same went for everything here.
Remember what we said about last time.
“My told me what happened one night, what I made you do.
I destroyed her memory of him, I made a real Hero kill him, I couldn’t keep hurting people. “ I can see images, flashing in my mind, memories that are not mine.
I’m counting seconds, trying to focus, trying to stay long enough to get the token. It has to have been fifteen, twenty minutes at least.
I try to work up a smirk, to convince myself that I’m just being played by the paranormal equivalent of a heckler.
That’s not it though, This place, this house, is reaching inside me and finding places to look. As I stare into the young man’s rotted eyes I know this is some part of him, torn away from whatever rest he was entitled to.
The lights dim, then turn off. The house is silent.
Hollywood gets being both a lunatic and a hitman wrong in equal measure. No matter how much morality you want to inject into the profession, there are going to come times when you make mistakes.
As the lights slowly turn to a dull orange glow, I’m surrounded by the hovering, mutilated forms of mine.
Those that died that could have been spared, those that died because of my inaction, or stupidity. I’ve never forgotten them, I use them to make sure I never make the same mistakes again, but having them looming, screaming, all demanding I hear their stories, their accusations, their placations.
It's too much, I stumble from the couch, trying to avoid the icy touch of these phantoms. For a moment I find some last scrap of courage, I close my eyes, shut out the shrieking din of the dead.
The silence hits like a truck, I focus, trying to calm my burned out nerves.
Then they are reignited like a fucking welding torch.
“This place didn’t bring us here.
We’ve been right next to you for years Mike. We can’t leave. “ The voice of my first mistake.
Like a toddler I try to run with my eyes closed, I trip over a glass coffee table, clawing my way up the door, grasping at the handle.
I can feel a slight pull now, almost magnetic, trying to drag me backwards.
My hands shake too much, I have to steady my right wrist with my left hand, the floor becomes slick, I see the door, escape start to move further away as I’m pulled backward.
I've taken a hit or two, and had a couple of three day benders that have made me piss myself. But as I stumble, trying to make progress on the nearly friction less floor, I have another unpleasant first experience.
I grab the handle, pulling myself out of the house, launching my body into a skin peeling tumble across unforgiving plank flooring.
I’m a shaking, fetal wreck, by the time I’ve pulled myself together enough to take in my surroundings, I see the red Led clock displaying my time.
42 seconds. Bottom of the barrel. The jeers and booing from the crowd do nothing for my frayed nerves or the storm of fear and anxiety going through my mind.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep, it has nothing to do with the concrete slab that serves as my bed.
My stomach has been knotting and cramping, with each passing second I get more worried I blew some internal gasket in one of the many life or death struggles in the past months.
When I finally manage to vomit, the urge is strong enough I get no where near the filth crusted hole in the floor that serves as my toilet. And my worst fears are confirmed as I see the massive pile of vomit is mostly blood.
… and bones? Is that an eyeball? A piece of fur?
The mass begins to pull itself together, bits and pieces forming the most rudimentary attempt at a face.
“Junior? “ I say, stunned.

I used to live together with someone I knew from highschool. But he was super messy, always had people around until late in the evenings (during the week), became super rude at some point and started drinking too much alcohol to the point where he would become quite aggressive. That is when I asked him to move out of my apartment.
That was 2 years ago. To this day he still hates me for doing so. We have some of the same friends and that is why I still see him occassionally.
Recently he founded a soccer club. I don‘t really mind that he never asked me to be in it. However one of my close friends is in this club and often times cancels plans with me because they suddenly have a training session. Now my very best close friend was asked to be in the club (he knows my ex roommate through me) and he agreed to be in it and it just breaks my heart. Now he also starts cancelling plans with me because they always have some kind of event or training and it breaks my heart (I told him that I struggle with him being in this soccer club)
Plus everytime I see my ex roommate he pretty much ignores me. Yesterday I tried to make an inside joke with him and he just looked at me without smiling and looked away. It was so uncomfortable and it made me super sad and mad…
How the hell do I deal with this and be the bigger person?
tdlr: ex roommate hoes out of his way to ignore me and make me uncomfortable around mutual friends. He also founded a soccer club where he invited my best friend to be in but not me. How do I deal with it?

Hello!
I'd love if anyone could offer any insight regarding which college I ought to choose.
For some background info, I'm a South Asian American guy from Santa Clara (in the South Bay) and my major is in the humanities; I'd like to become an educator down the line. So quality of education/program def matters to me, although I'm not that worried because they're all great schools!
In a college, I don't *necessarily* want a big city vibe, but I def want to go to a school with things to do; that said, I'm not super into the club/party scene so I don't much mind about that. But in general, I'd rather go to a livelier school with a lot of things going on! Please keep in mind that it's unlikely I'll have a car at college, so activities at a greater distance will probably be more difficult access-wise. Fyi, I'm not big on beaches/hiking.
I'd also really like to make some good friends, which I know is more on me—at the same time, I have heard that it can be easier at schools with robust communities/clubs/etc., so any input on that would be super appreciated. I'm additionally hoping for good dining options, and boba is a must!!
Now 'm well aware that a college experience is largely what you make of it, but I would nonetheless love to get other people's opinions on what the best option would be for me personally. Thanks so much in advance!

Hello!
I'd love if anyone could offer any insight regarding which college I ought to choose.
For some background info, I'm a South Asian American guy from Santa Clara (in the South Bay) and my major is in the humanities; I'd like to become an educator down the line. So quality of education/program def matters to me, although I'm not that worried because they're all great schools!
In a college, I don't *necessarily* want a big city vibe, but I def want to go to a school with things to do; that said, I'm not super into the club/party scene so I don't much mind about that. But in general, I'd rather go to a livelier school with a lot of things going on! Please keep in mind that it's unlikely I'll have a car at college, so activities at a greater distance will probably be more difficult access-wise. Fyi, I'm not big on beaches/hiking.
I'd also really like to make some good friends, which I know is more on me—at the same time, I have heard that it can be easier at schools with robust communities/clubs/etc., so any input on that would be super appreciated. I'm additionally hoping for good dining options, and boba is a must!!
Now 'm well aware that a college experience is largely what you make of it, but I would nonetheless love to get other people's opinions on what the best option would be for me personally. Thanks so much in advance!

Hello!
I'd love if anyone could offer any insight regarding which college I ought to choose.
For some background info, I'm a South Asian American guy from Santa Clara (in the South Bay) and my major is in the humanities; I'd like to become an educator down the line. So quality of education/program def matters to me, although I'm not that worried because they're all great schools!
In a college, I don't *necessarily* want a big city vibe, but I def want to go to a school with things to do; that said, I'm not super into the club/party scene so I don't much mind about that. But in general, I'd rather go to a livelier school with a lot of things going on! Please keep in mind that it's unlikely I'll have a car at college, so activities at a greater distance will probably be more difficult access-wise. Fyi, I'm not big on beaches/hiking.
I'd also really like to make some good friends, which I know is more on me—at the same time, I have heard that it can be easier at schools with robust communities/clubs/etc., so any input on that would be super appreciated. I'm additionally hoping for good dining options, and boba is a must!!
Now 'm well aware that a college experience is largely what you make of it, but I would nonetheless love to get other people's opinions on what the best option would be for me personally. Thanks so much in advance!

This has always been one thing that I can’t figure out. He lived in an apartment that smelled like decay and rot, so strongly that neighbors could smell it and called the damn cops on him over it. Yet he was still able to go out in public and pick men/boys up and bring them home? His body and clothes must’ve smelled awful, right? No amount of cologne could mask the smell of decomp on a person. Plus there’s no cologne in any pictures of his place.
How did no one notice or mention this? I know it’s a trivial thing to think about but I can’t fathom being at a club and being close to someone who smells like dead bodies and decide to go back to their house to fool around. Everyone comments on how he acted and charmed people, but no one ever said he smelled off or gross. His apartment didn’t have a washer and dryer which adds another layer to this. No one noticed his blood stained and reeking clothes when he used a laundromat (how else did he wash his clothes if not in a public setting?). If you have too many cats and don’t clean their litter boxes, you end up smelling of ammonia so bad strangers can smell it in public and I feel like decomp is so much worse than ammonia. How did he get so many people to come back to his apartment?

I’ve tried joining some casual sports organizations in the past and I’m apart of some clubs related to my major, but it’s been almost impossible for me to make any kinds of plans to hangout outside of the club with the people I’ve met during meetings and events. It’s super easy for me to make acquaintances in these clubs, sports teams, and my classes but the moment we all go home it’s like we don’t even know each other. I’m just looking for a group or place where I can meet people that want to hangout and do fun stuff (honestly I’m down to do anything but I enjoy thrift shopping, going to the mall, hiking, and sometimes videogames the most).

https://socialistchina.org/2022/07/15/hong-kong-the-truth-is-out/
On his first visit back to Hong Kong since 2019, long-term East Asian resident, and Friends of Socialist China Advisory Group member, Kenny Coyle writes that he found a city becalmed. “Rarely”, he observes, “has Western mainstream propaganda so successfully shrouded the truth about a city and society as open as Hong Kong.”
Kenny clarifies the meaning behind China’s insistence that Hong Kong was never a British colony, but rather a Chinese territory under illegal British occupation. His article, which also features an interview with Nixie Lam, a Legislative Council member from the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment and Progress of Hong Kong (DAB), the territory’s largest and most influential patriotic political party, is full of useful information. It was originally published in the Morning Star and we are pleased to reprint it here.
Hong Kong marked the 25th anniversary of its return to Chinese sovereignty with Chinese president Xi Jinping appearing in the city to witness the inauguration of the Chinese territory’s new leadership headed by John Lee.
The largely indoor ceremony had been forecast to take place amid a mild tropical typhoon, but for the past three years Hong Kong has been battered by quite different kinds of storms.
Xi’s visit takes place after an unprecedented period of turmoil. The first stage beginning in 2019 was characterised by a wave of initially peaceful mass protests against extradition legislation, which rapidly spiralled into violent anti-China protests.
The second stage by the ongoing battle to control the Covid pandemic in the city.
In my first visit since 2019, Hong Kong certainly seems becalmed. The city’s MTR rail network is back to pristine perfection. The political arson that saw 138 of the city’s 161 stations vandalised (including the deliberate destruction of lifts for the disabled and essential safety equipment) during the 2019 protests has long been cleaned up.
Temperature and Covid checks are carried out routinely at restaurant and shopping areas, with minimal inconvenience, although the city continues to enforce a seven-day quarantine on incoming passengers from overseas.
The image in Western media of a city writhing under a police state is belied by the reality on the ground.
Bars and restaurants are busy, as any five-minute evening walk around my Tsim Sha Tsui neighbourhood in Kowloon shows, supermarket shelves are full and whatever the talking heads of the local CNN or BBC bureaus would have you believe about “threats to freedom” on screen, they still somehow manage to prop up the main bar in the Foreign Correspondents Club each evening after their shifts.
Rarely has Western mainstream propaganda so successfully shrouded the truth about a city and society as open as Hong Kong’s.
The 2019 peaceful protests degenerated into the ugliest side of the anti-China movement, with black-shirted groups attacking anything and anyone that failed to kow-tow to their agenda.
Trade union offices, political parties and even those whose only crime was speaking the standard putonghua (Mandarin) version of Chinese in public were targeted for mob attacks.
Living in the neighbouring Special Administrative Region of Macao during this time, I not only witnessed the extremist antics at first hand on visits to Hong Kong (for example during their brief blockade of the city’s immigration department) but could watch shocking broadcasts of the petrol-bombers and barricade builders live-streamed on Hong Kong TV channels.
Just as shocking was the absence of these easily available images on BBC or CNN broadcasts.
A more recent manufactured furore in the British media has been over Hong Kong textbooks being “rewritten” in relation to British rule in Hong Kong prior to China reassuming sovereignty in 1997.
The assumption, of course, is that Chinese history can only be accurately understood through a Western lens.
As if to illustrate the enormous diversity of the British press, the following headlines appeared on the issue: “China rewrites history of Hong Kong with textbooks that deny British rule” (Telegraph, June 14); “China rewrites Hong Kong textbooks to deny Britain ever ruled the city” (Independent, June 15); and slightly more accurately — “China rewrites textbooks to insist Hong Kong was never a colony” (Times, June 15); “New Hong Kong textbooks ‘will claim city never was a British colony’” (Guardian, June 15).
The average reader would be forgiven for viewing this another ridiculous example of CPC censorship, an Orwellian erasure of the well-known history of British administration in Hong Kong.
However, the proposed texts from the Hong Kong education department merely restate the longstanding positions of not only the People’s Republic of China (and that of the previous Republic of China, it should be said) but also that of the United Nations.
In 1972, one year after the PRC took China’s seat at the UN, the PRC successfully removed Hong Kong and Macao (then under Portuguese fascist administration) from the list of colonised territories.
Hong Kong was not to be considered a British colony, it was a Chinese territory under illegal British occupation, an extremely important distinction in China’s eyes.
People’s China never established a diplomatic or consular presence in British-ruled Hong Kong, believing that this would legitimise British rule.
Instead, the office of the New China News Agency (better known today as Xinhua) was the de facto centre of contacts between the British authorities and the PRC government within the territory.
The issue of Hong Kong’s pre-1997 status has become more urgent recently, after the British government and media falsely claimed that the Sino-British Declaration of 1984, signed by the Thatcher government and China, somehow gave Britain some special rights to intervene in Hong Kong affairs after 1997.
The text of the declaration clearly states the opposite: 1997 marked the return of undivided Chinese sovereignty over Hong Kong.
Subsequent developments, including the much-belated extension of national security legislation in 2020 are entirely consistent with the principle of “One Country, Two Systems” first outlined by Deng Xiaoping in the 1980s and are in any case covered by provisions in an annex to the Basic Law, Hong Kong’s mini-constitution.
But if Western eyes are on the past, China is looking forward. Plans are in place to create a Greater Bay Area, encompassing the special administrative regions of Hong Kong and Macao and nine major cities in Guangdong province.
The aim is to use the synergy of these southern Chinese cities to create a dynamic economic hub of around 70 million people that will eventually dwarf most national and regional economies.
Many people in Hong Kong believe the city’s future lies in closer co-operation not in conflict with the rest of China.
Nixie Lam, a member of Hong Kong’s legislative council (Legco) and a representative of the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment of Hong Kong (DAB), the largest and most influential party within the patriotic camp, holds to this perspective.
She believes the new administration led by Hong Kong chief executive John Lee has the opportunity to put the territory back on the right track.
Lee, who takes office on July 1, has already outlined a platform that the future government will set clear targets and key performance indicators (KPIs) for selected tasks within the first 100 days of his new administration.
Some of this is designed to streamline government functioning, but he has also pledged to accelerate land and housing development, shorten the waiting time for public housing and address the city’s vast wealth gap.
“Hong Kong has wasted a lot of time and opportunities over the past few years. I see very high expectations among Hong Kong citizens. We have missed out on a lot. Where are we going to develop and to excel is the key, but time is very limited,” stresses Lam, a former grassroots district councillor.
“Perhaps that’s why Lee came up with his 100 days KPI promise, to show he would make visible changes in different aspects of policies and strategies.
“The new administration is formed by various well seasoned politicians, administrators, together with some industry leaders. It shows the new administration wants to restart Hong Kong and work together as a team.
“I’ve joined working groups scrutinising the new government structure. If you look closely, it’s easy to see that they really want to tackle some of the unresolved issues we face by bringing outside experts into the administration.”
Lam, herself a graduate of the University of Queensland in Australia, is nonetheless tired of Western countries continually lecturing Hong Kong.
“It’s boring to hear that democracy or One Country, Two Systems is dead. For those who live in Hong Kong, we know clearly who killed our democracy in 2019.
“Rioters and mobs were everywhere destroying public facilities, paralysing railway systems and so on but they were called ‘Freedom Fighters’ by Western countries. These double standards are not new in Hong Kong,” she insists.
“Hong Kong citizens know what’s best for our city. It is not begging overseas countries to sanction our city, it is not calling for American troops to take over our city, and it is definitely not the violent ‘democracy’ that they embraced.
“The city has been stablised. Ordinary citizens do not need to worry about being targeted by extremists any more. Discussions are no longer highly polarised but focus more on which strategy is best for the city.
“I guess that some people in Western countries do not want to see that our life is getting back to normal. People in Hong Kong are more focused on our Covid strategy and want to find more targeted solutions, finding a way that will balance reopening the city with ensuring people’s lives and health are protected,” she says.
Despite the challenges, Lam is clear about the way forward: “It is for us, Hong Kong citizens to work jointly toward rebuilding our city.”

https://socialistchina.org/2022/07/15/hong-kong-the-truth-is-out/
On his first visit back to Hong Kong since 2019, long-term East Asian resident, and Friends of Socialist China Advisory Group member, Kenny Coyle writes that he found a city becalmed. “Rarely”, he observes, “has Western mainstream propaganda so successfully shrouded the truth about a city and society as open as Hong Kong.”
Kenny clarifies the meaning behind China’s insistence that Hong Kong was never a British colony, but rather a Chinese territory under illegal British occupation. His article, which also features an interview with Nixie Lam, a Legislative Council member from the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment and Progress of Hong Kong (DAB), the territory’s largest and most influential patriotic political party, is full of useful information. It was originally published in the Morning Star and we are pleased to reprint it here.
Hong Kong marked the 25th anniversary of its return to Chinese sovereignty with Chinese president Xi Jinping appearing in the city to witness the inauguration of the Chinese territory’s new leadership headed by John Lee.
The largely indoor ceremony had been forecast to take place amid a mild tropical typhoon, but for the past three years Hong Kong has been battered by quite different kinds of storms.
Xi’s visit takes place after an unprecedented period of turmoil. The first stage beginning in 2019 was characterised by a wave of initially peaceful mass protests against extradition legislation, which rapidly spiralled into violent anti-China protests.
The second stage by the ongoing battle to control the Covid pandemic in the city.
In my first visit since 2019, Hong Kong certainly seems becalmed. The city’s MTR rail network is back to pristine perfection. The political arson that saw 138 of the city’s 161 stations vandalised (including the deliberate destruction of lifts for the disabled and essential safety equipment) during the 2019 protests has long been cleaned up.
Temperature and Covid checks are carried out routinely at restaurant and shopping areas, with minimal inconvenience, although the city continues to enforce a seven-day quarantine on incoming passengers from overseas.
The image in Western media of a city writhing under a police state is belied by the reality on the ground.
Bars and restaurants are busy, as any five-minute evening walk around my Tsim Sha Tsui neighbourhood in Kowloon shows, supermarket shelves are full and whatever the talking heads of the local CNN or BBC bureaus would have you believe about “threats to freedom” on screen, they still somehow manage to prop up the main bar in the Foreign Correspondents Club each evening after their shifts.
Rarely has Western mainstream propaganda so successfully shrouded the truth about a city and society as open as Hong Kong’s.
The 2019 peaceful protests degenerated into the ugliest side of the anti-China movement, with black-shirted groups attacking anything and anyone that failed to kow-tow to their agenda.
Trade union offices, political parties and even those whose only crime was speaking the standard putonghua (Mandarin) version of Chinese in public were targeted for mob attacks.
Living in the neighbouring Special Administrative Region of Macao during this time, I not only witnessed the extremist antics at first hand on visits to Hong Kong (for example during their brief blockade of the city’s immigration department) but could watch shocking broadcasts of the petrol-bombers and barricade builders live-streamed on Hong Kong TV channels.
Just as shocking was the absence of these easily available images on BBC or CNN broadcasts.
A more recent manufactured furore in the British media has been over Hong Kong textbooks being “rewritten” in relation to British rule in Hong Kong prior to China reassuming sovereignty in 1997.
The assumption, of course, is that Chinese history can only be accurately understood through a Western lens.
As if to illustrate the enormous diversity of the British press, the following headlines appeared on the issue: “China rewrites history of Hong Kong with textbooks that deny British rule” (Telegraph, June 14); “China rewrites Hong Kong textbooks to deny Britain ever ruled the city” (Independent, June 15); and slightly more accurately — “China rewrites textbooks to insist Hong Kong was never a colony” (Times, June 15); “New Hong Kong textbooks ‘will claim city never was a British colony’” (Guardian, June 15).
The average reader would be forgiven for viewing this another ridiculous example of CPC censorship, an Orwellian erasure of the well-known history of British administration in Hong Kong.
However, the proposed texts from the Hong Kong education department merely restate the longstanding positions of not only the People’s Republic of China (and that of the previous Republic of China, it should be said) but also that of the United Nations.
In 1972, one year after the PRC took China’s seat at the UN, the PRC successfully removed Hong Kong and Macao (then under Portuguese fascist administration) from the list of colonised territories.
Hong Kong was not to be considered a British colony, it was a Chinese territory under illegal British occupation, an extremely important distinction in China’s eyes.
People’s China never established a diplomatic or consular presence in British-ruled Hong Kong, believing that this would legitimise British rule.
Instead, the office of the New China News Agency (better known today as Xinhua) was the de facto centre of contacts between the British authorities and the PRC government within the territory.
The issue of Hong Kong’s pre-1997 status has become more urgent recently, after the British government and media falsely claimed that the Sino-British Declaration of 1984, signed by the Thatcher government and China, somehow gave Britain some special rights to intervene in Hong Kong affairs after 1997.
The text of the declaration clearly states the opposite: 1997 marked the return of undivided Chinese sovereignty over Hong Kong.
Subsequent developments, including the much-belated extension of national security legislation in 2020 are entirely consistent with the principle of “One Country, Two Systems” first outlined by Deng Xiaoping in the 1980s and are in any case covered by provisions in an annex to the Basic Law, Hong Kong’s mini-constitution.
But if Western eyes are on the past, China is looking forward. Plans are in place to create a Greater Bay Area, encompassing the special administrative regions of Hong Kong and Macao and nine major cities in Guangdong province.
The aim is to use the synergy of these southern Chinese cities to create a dynamic economic hub of around 70 million people that will eventually dwarf most national and regional economies.
Many people in Hong Kong believe the city’s future lies in closer co-operation not in conflict with the rest of China.
Nixie Lam, a member of Hong Kong’s legislative council (Legco) and a representative of the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment of Hong Kong (DAB), the largest and most influential party within the patriotic camp, holds to this perspective.
She believes the new administration led by Hong Kong chief executive John Lee has the opportunity to put the territory back on the right track.
Lee, who takes office on July 1, has already outlined a platform that the future government will set clear targets and key performance indicators (KPIs) for selected tasks within the first 100 days of his new administration.
Some of this is designed to streamline government functioning, but he has also pledged to accelerate land and housing development, shorten the waiting time for public housing and address the city’s vast wealth gap.
“Hong Kong has wasted a lot of time and opportunities over the past few years. I see very high expectations among Hong Kong citizens. We have missed out on a lot. Where are we going to develop and to excel is the key, but time is very limited,” stresses Lam, a former grassroots district councillor.
“Perhaps that’s why Lee came up with his 100 days KPI promise, to show he would make visible changes in different aspects of policies and strategies.
“The new administration is formed by various well seasoned politicians, administrators, together with some industry leaders. It shows the new administration wants to restart Hong Kong and work together as a team.
“I’ve joined working groups scrutinising the new government structure. If you look closely, it’s easy to see that they really want to tackle some of the unresolved issues we face by bringing outside experts into the administration.”
Lam, herself a graduate of the University of Queensland in Australia, is nonetheless tired of Western countries continually lecturing Hong Kong.
“It’s boring to hear that democracy or One Country, Two Systems is dead. For those who live in Hong Kong, we know clearly who killed our democracy in 2019.
“Rioters and mobs were everywhere destroying public facilities, paralysing railway systems and so on but they were called ‘Freedom Fighters’ by Western countries. These double standards are not new in Hong Kong,” she insists.
“Hong Kong citizens know what’s best for our city. It is not begging overseas countries to sanction our city, it is not calling for American troops to take over our city, and it is definitely not the violent ‘democracy’ that they embraced.
“The city has been stablised. Ordinary citizens do not need to worry about being targeted by extremists any more. Discussions are no longer highly polarised but focus more on which strategy is best for the city.
“I guess that some people in Western countries do not want to see that our life is getting back to normal. People in Hong Kong are more focused on our Covid strategy and want to find more targeted solutions, finding a way that will balance reopening the city with ensuring people’s lives and health are protected,” she says.
Despite the challenges, Lam is clear about the way forward: “It is for us, Hong Kong citizens to work jointly toward rebuilding our city.”

moved into a 20 year old house with 2x8 joists that are spaced 16" apart. don't have ducts or an air handler in attic -- got rid of the central AC for minisplits.
i feel like the house could be more comfortable. there is currently a mix of sprayed cellulose and fiber glass going a bit past the joists, but there is a good portion of the attic covered in osb for the central AC catwalk, which isn't very well insulated underneath. i have soffit vents, but no baffles, and theres a lot of wind washing across the top plates around the house. the single hung builder grade windows and patio french door are all leaky as fuck. i am patiently waiting on tilt and turn windows and a tilt and turn sliding door to be delivered.
really dislike blown in insulation and will avoid it even at the cost of spending a little bit more.
not sure how to go about the insulation between open cell vs closed cell for an attic floor. i live in a state where its about 80-105f 8-9 months out of the year.
generic air sealing would be an option, but i'm not really sure on the performance of air sealing + r30 mineral wool batts between joist, then some more laid perpendicular vs continuous spray foam. mineral wool bats would be about the other thing i'd consider. at least that I could diy.
the cost of 1500 sqft of r30 mineral wool is the same price as about continuous r20 spray foam. but the continuous insulation is probably going to perform better.
any other things to consider? i know that closed cell if installed wrong can really fuck up drywall, so there is that.
not sure if it would be worth it to spray foam only the trouble areas. such as the catwalk, knee walls from the areas that go from 11' to 8' ceilings, or around the edge of the house if i put in baffles in every rafter bay.

I met my roommate a few years ago, she worked at a hangout I frequented. We became friends because she decided she wanted to be my friend. Our relationship (just friendly) has been great since that moment. I moved for a new job opportunity (better hours/higher pay) and knew she wanted a chance to change fields into what she loved to do, so I invited her to move with me. She accepted and moved in with me a few months after I moved.
Things between us are great. I find myself actually enjoying life and not just muddling through. Being around her not only makes me a better man, it makes me want to be a better man, even though I sometimes fail at that.
I have always liked her, but as I spend more time with her, I have realized that she's someone I never want to leave my life - and more than that I don't want our relationship to drift apart, but would rather it grow. But, there are a lot of complications to this.
Complications:
1) I am fairly certain that she knows I at least like her (if not in love with her). She has talked about how she has resisted going on dates due to me being jealous - and she's right, I have been, and I feel super guilty about it, because she isn't my girlfriend and I have no right to be jealous. I try my best to not be, but it sometimes slips out.
2) With her starting over in a new line of work, I carry a lot of the financial burden in the relationship. And I don't for a second believe she is using me for that. However, I do not want to try and pursue something with someone when they rely on me, because it comes across to me like a quid pro quo situation. I never want someone to choose me out of a feeling of obligation.
3) She is extroverted and naturally flirtatious - she's fun and likes attention. I am very much introverted. She starts getting affected mentally if she remains cooped in the house for long stretches and for my sake, she does that a lot more than she would really like to do. I make efforts for her as well, but I just cannot find the mental state to frequently go to crowded bars/clubs - it sets off my anxiety.
4) We are both a little shallow. She is beautiful. I, however, am overweight by about 50 pounds. I struggle with any sort of discipline to try and get myself into shape. Which makes me think I clearly am not worthy.
5) I am terrified of losing her. If I try to go further and it fails, there is a good possibility that we will lose everything that is currently special, and that terrifies me.
6) I am 14 years older - though she is more mature.
Positives:
1) We talk - a lot. Even when I am at work, on a trip, etc., we talk a lot during the day. There isn't a single day where we don't talk. This obviously doesn't mean sparks can fly, but we never seem to bore with each other. That is rare for me. I struggle to carry on conversations for very long with anyone.
2) She flat out stated she is committed to the house we live in and the efforts we are making to improve it.
3) She is honest with me. Like most people there are times she will not voluntarily offer up information that she would rather stay secret, but she has always told me the truth. Even in times where it was in her best interest to not tell me, she has.
4) I think I actually make her happy, and I genuinely want her to be happy. And I know she makes me happy.
All in all, I just don't know how to navigate these waters. FWIW, I will almost definitely stay silent, because frankly I think she is well out of my league and my jealousy issues because of that will doom any possible romantic relationships. What we have now is one of the most meaningful relationships I have ever had. I have never dated much - an ex-wife (married 5 years divorced 13 years ago) and 2 other serious relationships (1.5 and 1 year respectively). I figured writing this out and soliciting advice from people who have better ideas on how to interact with people is the best bet.
​
Thanks for your time in reading this.