Binge

This is why homophobia is a terrible evil: it disguises itself as concern while it is inherently hate.

When life throws a wrench in your plans, catch it and build an IKEA bookshelf.

No person, no matter how important society deems their relationship to you, has the right to denounce you for who you are.

Sure relationships include arguments, but pain is not a side-effect of love.

Well, yes. I definitely consider myself to be your one that got away.

Every relationship ends, unless one doesn't. And everything we've learned from the relationships leading up to that last one has been the training we needed to make that final one last.

The best way out is always through.

Binge on giving, in all senses. Binge on indulging. We’re told every day from an early age that moderation is key. Count your calories, wait a while before you tell someone you love them, and remember that balance is the path to happiness. While all of those are great in theory, does a lesson taught from someone else’s mistakes resonate just as deeply as the ones you learn yourself? When you binge, you find your own boundaries.

In every community, some people will fit every stereotype, and some people will fit no stereotypes, and both are valid representations for that community.

Now I think of breaking up as moving. Imagine you have your own house, full of your own boxes. A person you meet has his own house, full of his own boxes. When you have a relationship with that person, you shack up in a third house, into which you can each put any number of your boxes. You shouldn't move them all in at once, or else you will seem too eager. And don't dawdle too much either, or you will seem skittish about commitment. You kind of aim to match each other's pace, so that the power balance feels fair and equal. Happy marriage--at least ideally--would be the situation in which both parties enthusiastically choose to keep all of their boxes in their shared house. Conversely, when someone starts to doubt the relationship, he might move a box or two back into his own house, just in case. While he's weighing his options, he may transport a few more boxes to the safety of his own home. When he's ready to take back his final few boxes, he breaks up with you. If you were too infatuated to see it coming, there you are, with all of your boxes in the shared house, and none in the security of your own home.

I’m not into boys who give nonconsensual kisses. Sure, he had good intentions, but, like, don’t kiss me in my sleep. It’s a simple ground rule. You don’t know if those ladies wanted that. Maybe they were having a good dream. Maybe they were dreaming about Darren Criss. You don’t know what you just interrupted. Rude.

Homophobic people are outdated and life is too short to put up with them.

I was taught that being myself was not only okay, but encouraged - and by being unapologetically yourself, you thrive and inspire others to thrive.

Finding my dream job was like finding a needle in a haystack. It was a crazy party in which every failed path I followed was like an attendee required to take away a single straw of hay as they departed, one by one. It took a while, and I eventually found that needle, but I couldn’t have done it without failing over and over.

Sometimes doing what's right for your conscience is not always the most popular decision, but I can guarantee that in retrospect you won't regret the choice you made.

And as far as a ‘one that got away’? Do I believe in that?” I smiled. “Well, yes. I definitely consider myself to be your one that got away.

When I was in my single digits, I was subjected to the worst torture you can possibly inflict on a child: Catholic mass.

Over my lifetime, I've had an interesting relationship with poop...the rectum is a grand thing. My favorite thing about the human body is that we're all basically doughnuts.

I think I might not be straight.

My favorite thing about the human body is that we're all basically doughnuts.

I aggressively run into things, back up into things, have no depth perception, often forget which buttons and knobs do what, and am easily distracted. But enough about my sex life! Back to my driving skills!

LYB NBC—which means “love ya, babe; nuts, back & critters”—the first half being pretty self-explanatory. Less obviously, “nuts, back, and critters” means watch out for crazy people, watch your back because you can’t trust anyone, and don’t run over any animals.

Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won’t fall.

We need to talk,” Adam said one day, walking into my room.

My mom screamed, jumping out of her seat and making her way toward me, wrapping her arms around my rotund body and pumping it an attempted Heimlich maneuver. (Until my early twenties, I thought it was called the Heimlich remover. Which makes more sense, if you think about it.)

So I rented out a roller rink, bought out an entire wig store, and threw the biggest drunk, roller-skating, wig birthday extravaganza the world has ever seen. The older I get, the more I realize what a gift a true friend is. Especially since my mom can't make me return those.

Maybe we all go through life carefully constructing our profiles to say what we're looking for, all while not saying anything that might scare people away... and after time we start to believe what we're putting out there. Our fear of people rejecting the things that make us happy limits how much happiness we can actually find. I guess when we're a bit more honest with ourselves and others, we might get more of what we actually desire.

But for me to give you Mathew right off the bat...that's me trusting you, It's me saying hi, welcome to my life, not everything is perfect or edited with jump cuts. That's Tyler. You know Tyler. It's time for me to tell you all of Mathew's stories.