alovesecrecy.

Impromptu Session I survived. We pushed. We laughed between breaths. We kept each other moving when stopping felt reasonable. It was hard in the honest way — lungs burning, legs arguing, sweat doing its job. For once, effort felt clean. No overthinking. Just showing up and finishing. I know the cramps will come tomorrow. That’s fine. Nothing is easy. The effort, the determination. How bad do I want this? They’re proof I was there. Proof I chose movement over avoidance. Road to a better body. Stronger. Fitter. More capable. It felt good — and I’ll take that. The worst is yet to come.

Obsessive Is An Ugly Word If anything happens to me, it's him — Qaffeine, the stalker. This is fixation, not interest. You imagine access that was never given. You ignore boundaries and call it persistence. That is delusion. You're delusional. This is not mutual. Stop.

Out of Place He showed up near my home. It didn’t make sense. He lives in the west; I’m in the east. There was no reason for him to be there, no overlap that could explain it away. It didn’t link. And then I realised he knew where I worked, lived.  That was the moment the discomfort settled into something else. Not confusion — recognition. This wasn’t a coincidence. This wasn’t accidental. There’s a particular kind of fear that comes from being observed without consent. From knowing someone has been paying attention where they shouldn’t. It leaves behind a feeling that’s hard to wash off — invasive, unsettling, deeply wrong. I didn’t engage. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need answers to know what this was. Some presences don’t announce themselves loudly. They appear quietly, out of context, and that alone is enough to change how safe a place feels. I’m writing this not to give it weight, but to name it. To acknowledge that what crossed a boundary did so clearly. And th...

Things That Travel Quietly Some things reach you indirectly. Not said to you, but about you. Not meant for your ears, yet they find their way there. I learned that Oak and Viper had been speaking — filling spaces I wasn’t in with their versions of me. Words passed along, softened or sharpened in transit, eventually landing with Luna and Amber. There was nothing new in what was said. Just familiar interpretations, old assumptions dressed as concern. The kind that sounds reasonable if you don’t look too closely. But the exaggeration was atrocious. Indirectly, they wanted me out. This is no surprise. Viper is the mastermind, but Oak is clueless and weak. Oak showed stupidity that Luna and Amber agreed. Oak has done it not once but twice. I need to have the utmost patience and resilience. 1 more year is all I need.  What unsettled me wasn’t the content, but the ease of it. How casually a story can be told when the person it belongs to isn’t present. How quickly it settles into pl...

A Good Session It wasn’t planned far ahead, and I went in as I was — no expectations, no preparation worth mentioning. Despite everything, I enjoyed it. The session felt steady, familiar in a new way. I moved, I listened, I kept up. What stayed with me most wasn’t the drills, but the encouragement.   Support came easily, even from people I had just met. Like a halo , especially, had a way of motivating without trying too hard. It was simple, genuine — and it made the session lighter. Unexpectedly so. It reminded me how small moments can shift the atmosphere entirely. How being seen, even briefly, can make effort feel worthwhile. I left feeling good. Quietly motivated. Looking forward to the next session. baby steps .

The Trial The day passed like any other, at least on the outside. I went, I listened, I waited. I told myself not to expect too much — expectations have a way of making things louder than they need to be. The names were read. Mine wasn’t. There wasn’t much else to it. No moment worth replaying, no clear reason to hold onto. Just a quiet understanding that this particular door wasn’t opening. I left with the same things I arrived with — my shoes, my bag, my thoughts. And maybe a little more awareness than before. It’s easy to tell yourself that not everything is meant to work out. That timing matters. That choices are made from angles you’ll never see. All of that can be true at once. What lingers isn’t the decision itself, but the pause that follows it. The brief moment where you stand between effort and outcome, unsure of what to carry forward and what to leave behind. For now, I’m choosing not to make this mean anything more than it has to. Some things don’t continue — not because t...