Consent: Not actually that complicated

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A short one today as my life is currently very complicated and conspiring against my preference to spend all of my days working out what to blog. But do you know what isn’t complicated?

Consent.

It’s been much discussed recently; what with college campuses bringing in Affirmative Consent rules, and with the film of the book that managed to make lack of consent look sexy raking it in at the box office. You may not know this, but in the UK we more or less have something similar to ‘affirmative consent’ already. It’s how Ched Evans was convicted while his co-defendant was not – and is along the lines of whether the defendant had a reasonable belief that the alleged victim consented. From the court documents it appears that while the jury felt that it was reasonable to believe that the victim had consented to intercourse with the co-defendant, it…

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I’m not one for sappy love stories.  However I am in love. I am in love with this boy who saves me from drowning in my own sorrows.  A boy who can touch my soul while I won’t let anyone else in.  A boy who worries about me constantly, but doesn’t even know the half of it.

After a severe and detrimental break up, I thought I would never get back up.  My world was spinning, and cracking, and falling into ruins.  My life was on halt for a total of 20 months for this person.  I thought about nothing else.  I was addicted to him.  I was addicted to his touch, to his soul, to his lively hood.  I didn’t care how bad the arguments got, or how far he pushed me down.  He made me believe I was broken, and that he was fixing me.

Until he sent me that text.  “That moment you realize you can’t be with the person that you are so in love with.”

We had broken up before this, and it was multiple times.  This time I knew.  I knew I could not handle being pulled around by a string any longer.  This would be the end, even if it killed me.

And it did kill me.  I was out of control, but I didn’t care.  I was pulling others along on my string now, and I paid no attention to who I was hurting.  And there was this one boy, who I knew was latched onto me and wouldn’t let go.  I had no feelings for him.  I was numb, I had no feelings for anybody.  I only knew pain.  After a few months of talking to him, I decided that it should not go on any longer.  I cut all ties off from him.

A few months later, I was still healing, but I was feeling good.  I felt as if I could take on the world.  I was becoming stronger.  He asked me if I would come to his “pool party.” I said yes, not knowing I would fall in love with him.

I was weary, however I wanted to be with him.  I didn’t want to pour all of my happiness and love into one person, as I did before.  I didn’t think I could handle being broken again.

He tried with all of his effort and love to make me happy.  I was happy.  I was just detached.

And then I finally realized, that to be completely committed to one person, I needed to put happiness in him.  I needed to give him a part of me.  That is the risk in love.  If you fall in love, there is always a high chance that you’ll end up broken.  However you shouldn’t allow yourself to give up on your whole life for another.  Give him part of you, not your whole self.

my happiness is made within the unknown strangers, the smiling children walking by, the positivity that is easily absorbed.

Who am I? That is a question I am continuously trying to clarify.  I will never find the answer.  What I am here for is consistently changing.  I connect with different words everyday.

However, I am a human being.