August 22, 2021
Okay I’m bouta rant again. Am I just more mentally ill than I thought or does anyone else feel like they did something wrong and that’s why they’ll never be able to be with their fave? Like deadass. I will full on be thinking I did something wrong and then be like “Hold on he’s a serial killer who died in 1989. In no Universe could that have anything to do with me.” And yet that doesn’t stop me from blaming myself for the fact that I’ll never be able to actually be with him. Like wtf. I’m not even his type anyway and I was born in 2006. Time line ain’t evening out there. And yet somehow my mind convinces me I did something wrong and that’s why I wasn’t given the circumstances for it to have been a possibility. Idk man. I know I have issues but I feel like that’s not just “issues” Like there’s a reason with that and I wanna figure it out.
August 21, 2021
Realistically I don’t think there was ever a point in time when I hated Ted. Or that I was scared of him. I found out about him when I was five, sure. But I never thought what he did was wrong. I never hated him because of what he did. But I also didn’t exactly love him either. I was just sort of neutral. Yes I researched him. Yes I was interested in him. But not in a romantic or sexual way. Just simply in a research sense. So how the fuck did I end up where I am now? Simple. That research became the only thing that was keeping me alive. It became a coping mechanism. And Ted being so strongly attached to that coping mechanism lead to caring about him more than anyone could even begin to understand unless they had the same exact experience down to the T. But none of that explains why I never had an issue with what he did. The problem was never that I didn’t care about victims of violent crimes. Don’t get me wrong for a long time I did. The last time I remember genuinely thinking “how could someone do that to someone?” Was when I saw a video about Anthony Borges. So why specifically did I never care about what Ted did? I have no idea. I usually have some sort of grasp on why I think certain ways but I genuinely have no clue why I never cared about what he did even before I had any emotional connection to him. Idk. I just felt the need to rant about this and didn’t have anywhere better to do it.
December 5, 2020
Y’know sometimes it really does hit me that like.. Ted’s gone. There’s nothing I or anyone can do about it. I’ll never have seen him in the real world no matter what. I could do anything from researching him every day to fucking copying him for Christ’s sake but it wouldn’t change the fact that he’s gone and there’s nothing anyone can say or do to change that fact. And I don’t wanna overdramatize it but it almost feels like there’s a part of my life missing in a weird way. Like I was supposed to be alive at the same time as him but just wasn’t. And yeah. The easy out would be suicide. I’m well aware. But that wouldn’t bring him back either. And on the odd chance that there’s an after life I don’t wanna be stuck in my mind for all of eternity like that. But at the same time it feels like that’s the only real way to ever really be with him. And I’m not one of those girls who thinks he would have loved them if he had met them. No. I’m someone who 100% thinks he would have murdered me. But that’s the thing- I’ve had this feeling my entire life that I was going to be murdered. Never once did I think maybe that was supposed to happen but just wouldn’t. And I’m not saying if Ted were alive today that would happen. Especially considering A) he was American and B) he’d be 74 by now. I’m saying had I been alive back then... not had he been alive now. It sounds so fucked up but I dunno.. it feels off. Everything feels off. And it always does and probably always will. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.