Tag: romance

Categories
blog

To Being Ghosted, Guilty, and Going Back to the Gym

How Getting Ghosted Jumpstarted My Villain Arc

So, I got ghosted this week. Kind of. Like I did, but then I didn’t? Just allow me to take you guys on the rollercoaster of a week I had.

Dec 1st, 2025

To not completely dox the guy I am going to be talking about, we are going to refer to him as “Devil”. (yes, him)

Devil and I had been on and off for two years until this September when we started talking again (Count one, guilty). Everything was going well between us—consistent. So much so that in November we decided to be exclusive. My mom even knows about him.

“Are you going to see Devil?” she would always ask whenever I came to her house. He became a household name.

“Are you going to invite Devil to Thanksgiving?” my stepdad, Perry, asked one time. I didn’t, of course. I didn’t feel comfortable bringing any man home until I was officially their girlfriend. I’m glad I stood firm on that belief because it would’ve been awkward trying to tell my parents that the guy they just met on Thanksgiving ghosted me not even a week later.

—————-

The night before, I had asked Devil to tell me all the things he liked about me. I’m a girl who loves to hear why you enjoy my presence. My words of affirmation girls can understand.

I liked Devil, a lot.
He was funny, adventurous, and interesting. I enjoyed our dates, the sex was good, and sometimes I felt like he just gets me.

His Kryptonite? Emotionally unavailable. My seven-year-old nephew is better at expressing himself.

Getting Devil to open up is like pulling teeth.

Asking him that question, I knew that whatever I wanted to hear, he wasn’t going to say (Count two, guilty).

But, nonetheless, I asked. And waited.

And waited.

I texted him again, and explained that he just wants to make sure his responses is “loaded.”

I didn’t hear from him again that whole night.

That Monday morning (Dec 1st), he texted me, “Good morning.”

Because I was upset by his lack of response, I decided not to respond right away. I was upset, and rightfully so; I didn’t care. I decided to be petty and wait a couple of hours.

When I finally did respond, I told him why I was upset and why I didn’t respond—how it made me feel rejected.

Then I waited for his response.

And waited.

And waited.

At this point, it’s been three hours. At one point, I thought he died until I saw him repost a video on TikTok.

So, I called him.

Did he answer? No.

I thought to myself, he’s probably upset because I responded late to his text. (Count three, guilty)

December 2nd, 2025

“I think I’m getting ghosted.”

It’s 3 p.m., I’m at work, and I still haven’t heard from Devil. This was the first morning in four months where I didn’t get a ‘Good Morning’ text on my phone.

I assumed he woke up mad still, but it’s almost midday and I still haven’t heard from him.

I was talking to my co-worker, Austin, who was by no means the perfect person to tell your relationship troubles to. But, I was anxious, and I needed to talk to someone, quick.

Austin kept telling me that he probably cut me off for another girl, which did not calm my nerves, so thank you again, Austin. My stomach turned into knots just at the thought of it. My gut was telling me that, that wasn’t the case. But my brain couldn’t rationalize any other reason for his disappearance.

By 3:06 PM, I texted him again.

“What is your problem? Why aren’t you answering any of my calls or texts??“

By 8 PM, I was home, drunk, cooking, blasting Rico Nasty, and there was still no response from Devil.

I was angry, hurt, and confused.

Three glasses of wine later, (that I spiked with Patron) I decided that he will hear from me, one way or another.

I called him four times, one of which I called using *67.

Still, no response.

He was definitely ignoring me. It wasn’t like he was dead or anything (even though a small part of me hoped he was).

I reread our last conversation over and over.

Did I really miss something? What could I possibly have said to provoke such an extreme reaction? The last time we hung out was November 29th. I was at his house, just finishing wrestling (if you know, you know), and we were playing those games on YouTube where you guess the theme song of a TV show.

Literally my dream date.

My mind couldn’t grasp that he was ghosting me. It just didn’t make sense.

After all this time, did I mean nothing to him?

December 3rd, 2025

Waking up that morning, I felt empty.

Last night, on my fourth glass of wine and a smoke session with my sister, everything that I was trying not to feel wrapped me in a hug.

Getting ready for work felt like getting ready for World War II.

My sister was getting ready for the day, and I questioned if I should tell her what’s been going on between Devil and me.

A part of me didn’t want to say anything last night during our smoke session for the small chance that he’ll text me and say that it was a misunderstanding. After sitting on it for a minute, I realized that I needed to say something, or I’m going to feed and encourage the delusion.

“Devil ghosted me,” I said softly to Maleah.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately came to my side, “What happened?” she asked.

I told her how I hadn’t heard from him and that he’s alive and well, just ignoring me.

I knew telling Maleah meant there was no point of return for Devil and me. Maleah was all about revenge.

“Fuck him, want to get his page deleted?” She suggested.

I wanted to tell her I would much rather she find a way for him to text me. Instead, all I said was “yes.”

Our friend and roommate Kay, who also got into an argument with her boyfriend— it was a stupid argument, but it was enough for her to join me in my bundle of emotions: rage, confusion, and hurt.

In the end, we agreed that evil women need to be on the rise.

“We entered a flow state of hating niggas” Kay expressed as she was pacing back and forth.

At work, I couldn’t focus on anything.

Devil ghosted me.

I had Maleah and Kay report devils instagram page from both their main and spam accounts. I needed to do something. Something that would disrupt his peace, as he did mine.

At work, I did absolutely nothing.

Instead, I put his number under every spam notification he could receive from anywhere.

Scientology, the Navy, healthcare quotes, car quotes, the military.

I even made a request for Jehovah’s Witnesses to make a visit to his house that Saturday afternoon.

He obviously didn’t have any morals.

He wanted to ignore my texts and calls? Fine.

Now he’d have to ignore the calls/texts from 60 different sites I found.

December 4th, 2025

That day, I finally decided to get out of my funk. I told myself I was going back to the gym to do a full reset. Before doing that, I was curious to understand why people ghost.

I asked my friend Daija if she had ever been ghosted or if she had ever ghosted anyone.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been ghosted, and if I did, then I didn’t like them enough.”

She explained that she has ghosted a lot of people.

“When I end up ghosting someone, it’s because I know it won’t go anywhere or they’re really weird, and I’d rather not have that conversation with them and then they start bashing me, like Blake.”

Blake was a guy Daija dated for maybe for a week or two. By that second week, we found out that he had also dated a friend of mine.

“Or your gay friend Cole,” she said.

Cole was not gay, and his name was Collin.

Was ghosting now the norm? The safe option when wanting to end things was someone else’s worst nightmare.

“I low key ghosted Braden also, but he ghosted me first.”

Braden was the first evil light skin to be created, I am sure of it.

He would essentially do the push-pull method. One minute he was all about Daija, showing and giving affectionate and then the next minute, he’d ghost her.

She showed me a screenshot of one of the last things she sent to him.

“On your life, I hate you”

Men really know how to strike a nerve and get you to do and say the most evil things.

I decided to ask my other friend—let’s call her Zee—the same question.

She ghosted many people because of bad hangouts, boredom, or until she felt like they weren’t convenient to her anymore. She wanted to make it known that for the people she ghosted, there was no emotional connection between her and those who were ghosted.

“Have you been ghosted before?” I asked her.

She said “Yes.” When she got ghosted, she was in denial.

“They can’t be ghosting me,” she said.

The first stage of being ghosted? Being in denial.

I asked her why she thinks people in our age group always resort to ghosting, rather than communicating that they are now uninterested.

“I think it’s convenient. There are too many steps to commitment. The structure of dating has made it so efficient to disappear. Because there are no labels, you can feel better walking away because that wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“Do you think we will ever get to that point in our generation, where ghosting someone will become taboo?” I asked.

Almost everyone I know has ghosted someone or had been ghosted. Or both.

Even as I am writing this, I have ghosted a few people before. How come everyone in their 20s believes that ghosting someone is easier than telling the person they are talking to that they want to end things? When did we let fear drive our love lives?

“No, there is too much grey area. It’s too normalized. People aren’t even in situationships; they have made it to humiliation-ships. There are too many non-relationships.”

Was she right?

Is this our generation’s future when it comes to dating?

Send the flood.

December 5th, 2025

I was at the gym when a close male friend called me.

Let’s call him Umar.

I asked him the same question I asked Zee and Daija.

“Have you ever been ghosted and/or have you ever ghosted someone?”

I wanted to get a man’s opinion on this topic. (Count four, guilty)

“A bitch ain’t never ghosted me let’s s start there!” he said. Very on brand.

“How many people have you ghosted?”

“This year?” he questioned.

Divas, we are doomed.

“Ghosting is such a weird term; if we’ve only been texting for three days, why am I explaining to you that I don’t like you at all?” he explained.

“Have you ghosted someone with whom you were emotionally invested?” I asked.

“I ghosted this girl about a month ago because we were supposed to hook up, and then she got out of the shower, bent over, and it just stunk. I got out of that situation and went home,” he said.

I didn’t know what I expected to hear, but it wasn’t that.

He went on to explain that she was very cool, but her getting out of the shower and still having a body odor was just something he couldn’t get over.

Did Umar make the right call? Was this one of the few times it was appropriate to ghost someone?

He said that was the longest he had talked to someone before ghosting them.

I asked if any of his male friends ghosted anyone.

“Yeah, a lot of times, the girls think that they are ‘the one’ after a month or two, and they start losing their marbles. They end up scaring the guy off.”

I started to wonder at what point should girls feel like they are ‘the one’ if the two-month mark is too early.

Personally, I want to tell a man I love him after going out for two weeks. Have I done it? Of course not.

How should women know if they are the one if the man doesn’t say it? Is the silence their answer?

“Why do you think ghosting is normalized in our generation?” I asked him.

“It’s so easy to get in contact with somebody. In our parents’ generation, if they didn’t want to see someone or deal with them, it was a lot easier to get rid of them. In our generation, we all have phones. It’s easier to get in contact with someone now than before. So getting rid of a woman is harder.“

He then goes on to say, “Now you got FaceTime, get your homegirl to call him, she can get you on Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, she can call your momma. Friday night she can pop up at the club looking for you.”

“I also feel like we’re not the generation to talk much; we’re not into explaining ourselves. It’s too vulnerable. We don’t even dance in the club anymore. We’re not comfortable expressing ourselves. So a lot of times, if we don’t want to deal with certain things anymore, we choose to just not talk anymore,” he finally says.

I asked him if a man ghosts a woman after they have been dating for four months, what should the woman do. Was this question about me? Yes.

Sue me. I’m mourning.

“4 months? Oh, I’m not gonna lie, I might lose my play card about that one. I need to know now, that’s four months—120 days. I know you a little bit now.”

Should I just say fuck it and lose my play card? Spam call him or pop up at his house?

December 6th, 2025

That morning, my conversations with Austin, Daija, Zee, and Umar hung in the air like a black cloud.

I needed to know why.

So, I went on Instagram, unblocked Devil, and texted him. (Count five, guilty)

Me: Can you just tell me what happened?

Me: Was there another girl or something? I just want to know what made you not say ANYTHING for five days. I will not bother you anymore.

The last line was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that.

After 30 minutes, there was no response.

He is just that evil, I thought to myself.

Until, a notification from Instagram came to my phone.

It was him. He had finally said something.

He explained that he couldn’t think of more reasons to answer the question I asked him the night before he decided to turn into Casper.

Me: So you’re telling me because you couldn’t think of an answer, you decided to ignore me for five days? Not return any of my texts or calls?

Him: Yes

Me: What the fuck is wrong with you?

I was so angry it felt like I couldn’t even type. I had completely forgotten that at the big age of twenty-seven, the big two seven, 27, his emotional capacity was that of a 4-year-old.

I would’ve preferred there was another girl involved. At least that would make sense.

Him: You should find someone who can fulfill what you need from a partner. I know we said we’ll take it slow, but I don’t want to weigh down your time by being indecisive.

Duh.

I mean, the absolute nerve of him. As if he hadn’t wasted the past 5 days. It was all he was good for.

I told him I didn’t understand him ghosting me and watching me reach out for communication, constantly meeting me with silence.

Him: I didn’t want to deal with whatever the aftermath of that would have been.

Me: You mean you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of your own actions?

He replied, “not yet.”

I officially lost my cool. I just couldn’t contain the anger.

I told him how he didn’t want to own up to his actions and instead of being a man and talking to me like we’re grown fucking adults, he ignored me like a child.

“We been texting and seeing each other for four months straight and you randomly ignore me? That was your solution? Because you couldn’t use your words? Or was scared of my reaction? Grow the fuck up, seriously.

I don’t know when exactly I finally hit a nerve with him; maybe it was when I questioned his masculinity or age. Regardless, I struck something because he immediately told me, “You got it, Bye Aliah,” and blocked me.

Honestly, I felt so much better. Grateful, even. I knew what he was before we started “dating,” but not to this extent. He was a man-child. Shout out to Sabrina, for real.

December 7th, 2025

This whole week felt fake. As I was going through it emotionally, physically I’ve been up. I started eating more clean, like I eat turkey bacon now??

I’ve been to the gym every day and been running on the treadmill, like don’t play.

In the beginning of the week, I was heartbroken and confused. Now that we are at the end, I feel grounded and sure. I didn’t miss out on anyone that wasn’t for me.

Devil was not my person. And that’s okay, great even. I needed him to mess up one more time for me to finally let go.

My friend Olivia told me that sometimes you have to keep going back to a man to finally let him go.

Was she right? Yes.

Will that be the theme of my love life? No.

Next year I turn 25 and there are some things that I just simply won’t allow anymore.

To my Ballads who have been ghosted or got their heart broken this year, I challenge you guys to fill your own cup. Go to the gym, make more money, spend time with your friends, and choose you.

And don’t ghost people!!!!!! Unless you want them to write about you in their Blog (Count six, guilty)

Love, Aliah 💕

Categories
blog dating

Horoscope Horrors

I think it’s time, my beautiful ballads, that we have the conversation.

Astrology — you either hate it or love it. In my opinion, it’s almost like discussing politics. It’s a sore subject. Almost. You have people who are deep into it, could care less, or are somewhere in the happy medium.

Regardless of whether we want to talk about astrology or not, it’s real, and it’s happening. So let’s get into it.

Before I start, I want to preface this: No, I do not rule out any guy romantically solely because of their sign or anything of the sort. However, I do move with caution. And let me explain which signs.

First up on the chopping board:

  • 1. Pisces Men

I genuinely believe that when women gave birth between the dates of February 19th and March 20th, Satan was in the delivery room screaming, “Twin!”

My first time romantically dealing with a Pisces man was in high school — a two-year relationship full of lies, deception, and manipulation. That man traumatized me so badly that, to this day, if I’m talking to a man and he mentions he’s a Pisces, I sincerely get war flashbacks.

Don’t get me wrong, I still try to give them a chance, but the horrors!

Talking to other women or just typing “surviving a Pisces man” on social media feels like we need to start a support group after dealing with one.

One out of every five women you meet will have a Pisces horror story. Ask at least five women in your life right now if they’ve ever dealt with a Pisces man, and watch them shudder in tragedy.

And it sucks because as a Virgo, Pisces is our sister sign. And I love Pisces women. They’re emotional, dreamy, spicy, and headstrong.

I don’t know where the disconnect happened between Pisces men and Pisces women.

My advice on dating a Pisces man?

Convince them to get a lobotomy — girl, I don’t know. Just run and seek therapy

  • 2. Gemini Men

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

You goddamn Geminis.

I’ve never officially dated a Gemini (survivor), but I’ve had my fair share of getting to know them to empathize with my ballads who have.

I only ever had a crush on a Gemini man, and I was already going through emotional warfare.

We started off as friends — always trying to make each other laugh, wanting to be near each other all the time — and then one day, I woke up like,

“I think I wanna kiss my friend??”

So fun.

Nonetheless, we gave it a “shot”… for a week.

Next thing you know, his texts started coming in later, and we were talking less and less. We talked, agreed to stop being friends, and then — that following week — he posted his ex for WCW.

(Yes, this was in high school, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.)

Geminis are tricky — they’re sly. Their personalities can hide how awful they actually are to date.

They’re also stereotypically two-faced. And honestly? I get it.

In the stages before actually dating them, they’re fun to be around, exciting, and no days are alike. But once you finally get them on lockdown, their mask starts to slip.

I think they like the chase.

Once they get you, they no longer feel the need to court you or try as hard.

And for that, they deserve prison time — and the #2 spot on my list.

  • 3. Cancer Men

This one hurt to put on the list because my close friend is a Cancer man.

With that being said, I can understand why women lock their doors and close their curtains when they hear a Cancer man is on the prowl.

Cancers are the “mothers” of the zodiac. The feminine.

The thing is, when the universe was making the signs, they should’ve reserved that role for women only.

I think Cancers as a whole are very intuitive, emotionally attuned, and caring. They have so many great qualities.

Their downfall?

They use their powers to manipulate and hurt girls.

(Not you, friend.)

Their betrayal hurts so much because you least expect it.

You let your guard down, open up to them, have intimate moments — do the whole shindig. They’re water signs, so being vulnerable is almost innate to them.

The problem? They’re water signs.

They’re emotional.

They will not shy away from telling or showing you how they feel.

In hindsight, that sounds like a good thing, right? Right???

I saw a girl on TikTok say,

“Dating a Cancer man is almost like dating a woman.”

And on that note, I think we can end it there.

To my ballads who are dating a Cancer man:

I hope you and your girlfriend are happy and well.

  • Honorable Mention #1: Virgo Men

I’ve heard terrible things about dating Virgo men.

They can be cold, distant, and of course, toxic.

The reason they are not on my list?

They make me laugh.

And I have to be biased — I’m a Virgo woman.

I’ve only had two short flings with Virgo men.

The first one? I met almost four years ago, and we’re still on good terms. At least once every two months, we talk about how we’re going to get married.

The other one stole my winter coat  for about a month… but was an amazing kisser.

So y’know. Duality

  • 4. Aries Men

THIS one hurt to put on the list because I absolutely love Aries. I think they’re so sweet.

The first person I ever got with after my first relationship was an Aries man.

He was also my first-ever situationship.

And the reason I had a trauma bond with Olivia Rodrigo’s album, SOUR.

But guys — he was SO sweet. Like, before everything turned shitty.

(I have problems.)

I think Aries men are way better as friends than romantic partners.

They try so hard not to be the bad guy that, eventually… they end up being the bad guy.

Which is so unfortunate.

As a friend, they’re funny, sweet, maybe even a little exciting.

But the moment you take the relationship to the next step — almost like Gemini men — a switch in their brain flips.

Everything you once liked about them? You now hate.

They can be hot and cold. One minute they’re all about you… and the next?

They’ve found someone else to obsess over.

Dating them feels like having to perform for their love and adoration 24/7 — and it gets exhausting.

And when you finally stop performing?

They show you why they’re a fire sign.

They will argue. They’ll counteract anything you say and invalidate your feelings in the process.

Dating them is like having a headache… but not taking any aspirin because you love them.

Sigh. Sayonara, sisters. Good luck.

  • Honorable Mention #2: Aquarius Men

One word: LIARS

  • 5. Leo Men

I am a Leo man magnet. I only attract Leos.

Now, you’re probably thinking, “Aliah, why aren’t they higher on your list?”

Well, my beautiful reader — it’s because a Leo man can still bamboozle me.

I know. I’M SICK.

But they are so attractive, so charming, so exciting… and again, attractive.

Maybe I like them so much because I’m a Leo rising.

So, when I come in contact with a Leo man, it feels familiar.

My first experience with a Leo man was in 2022. Whew. I remember that shit like it was yesterday.

He was bad, funny, well-dressed, and charmed my pants off.

Ever since then, all I’ve been attracting are Leo men.

The problem?

They all have commitment issues.

They are so sexy they feel the need to share it with everyone.

If you can lock down a Leo — kudos, and please share with the class.

They don’t want to be tied down.

Dating a Leo man means you have to accept that you’re essentially dating a slut.

A really fine and funny slut.

That Leo man I dated back in 2022?

I just recently had to put him on the chopping block.

Had to let my slut go and unfriend him on every social media platform, because every time he posted himself, my ovaries started barking.

Leo men use their beauty and charm to distract you from:

    1.    Getting to actually know them, and

    2.    Keeping you under their spell.

Do I still love my Leo men? Unfortunately.

Do I have any advice on how to handle one? Not really.

Best I can say is to ignore them and admire them from afar.

——————-

In all honesty, dating a man — regardless of his zodiac sign — is a risk.

And right now? We’re in a recession.

So you just gotta pick your risk and hope the odds are forever in your favor.

It’s the zodiac Hunger Games

Categories
blog

I Think I Fumbled My Future Husband

And the dating pool? Full of piss and piranhas

I think I’m ready to date again.

I wish I could say that enthusiastically—truly. But the dating scene right now is terrible. The dating pool not only has piss in it, but also piranhas.

I haven’t been on a date since July 2024, and I haven’t dated anyone since November 2023. My love life has been ridiculously dry. Ain’t no one on this phone but SHEIN updates.

But I wasn’t mad at it. Since November—when Devil completely demolished my heart (iykyk)—I took my time of solitude to really reassess my dating life.

One of my favorite artists, Olivia Rodrigo, once talked about her writing process for the song Favorite Crime—which, by the way, I totally trauma-bonded with.

She explained that it’s easy to place the blame on the other person for breaking your heart, but it’s hard to recognize and admit that you played a hand in breaking your own.

And after that breakup in November, I did just that.

The Problem with Dating Now

I became desensitized to the idea of dating. My interest in men took a massive decline. No one piqued my interest. I became restless when it came to my love life.

I tried to put myself out there and talk to a few different men, but I felt… nothing.

Eventually, I started dating this guy—let’s call him Smiles. He graduated college, was tall, nice, opened my car doors, always greeted me with flowers—a complete gentleman…

But he did nothing for me.

The Aidan vs. Mr. Big Effect

I felt like Carrie when she was dating Aidan.

I was so used to dating the Mr. Big archetype that when my Aidan finally came around, I couldn’t even appreciate him.

I felt like a dumb bitch. I felt like I was betraying the universe—like this was their gift to me, and I completely disregarded it.

Triggers I Didn’t Expect

I remember having Smiles over at my apartment after one of our dates. We were watching TV, talking, and at one point, he wrapped his arm around me.

And I tensed up—so quickly. I didn’t even know why at first.

The last time I let a man touch me so innocently, so gently, was with Devil. It was the first time I was allowing a man to physically get close to me again.

And all he was doing was putting his arm around me.

I tried to ignore it.

I told myself it had just been a minute. I’d been touch-deprived for months—I just needed to ease into it.

By this time, it was April. Five months since I broke things off with Devil. I thought I was ready.

Boy, was I wrong.

It wasn’t until Smiles pulled me closer and kissed me. I kissed him back… and three seconds later, I started crying.

I literally had to suck the tears that were threatening to fall back into my eyelids.

I didn’t even know why I was crying.

Luckily, he didn’t notice—because honestly, I would not have known how to explain that.

And if that wasn’t bad enough…

He offered to give me head.

And I declined.

WHO DECLINES FREE HEAD????

And no shade, but it looked like he could eat.

He eventually ended up leaving, and we made plans for our next date. The minute I closed the door after walking him out, I cried.

At the time, I genuinely thought I was ready to date again. But after that encounter, I realized just how wrong I was.

I knew I had to cut things off with Smiles—but I didn’t know how.

The Self-Sabotage Begins

I was doing that thing that men do when they tell you, “I’m not looking for anything serious, but I would like to keep seeing you.” #WomenInMaleFields

So, going against my better judgment, I decided to keep dating Smiles.

We texted almost every day. I still went on dates with him—though he wanted to see me way more than I wanted to see him.

I was determined to make this work.

It had to work.

I wasn’t sure when a guy like him would come around again. He was like a rare jewel.

But since we’re family here, I’ll be honest.

Yes, he was a sweet gentleman…

But was he my type?

He was funny, I guess. But physically?

He wasn’t my type.

Yes, he was tall. Yes, he had some tattoos. But he wasn’t bad. 

You know what I mean—he wasn’t fine shyt

Still, a part of me felt obligated to give it a shot because I thought I deserved to be with a guy like that.

A guy who planned dates.

A guy who always opened the car door and greeted me with flowers.

I’ve yearned for that kind of love.

But… nothing in me ached for him.

He didn’t make me laugh.

I wasn’t fully attracted to him.

When he kissed me, I felt absolutely nothing.

He just wasn’t it.

And it pissed me off.

You’d think that after dating the literal Devil, I would leap into the arms of my knight in shining armor.

But Thankfully… I’m Not Totally Carrie

I actually talked to Smiles. I told him how I felt.

I explained that I had just gotten out of a relationship where the wounds were still fresh—still open. That he was the first person I’d even considered seeing since that, and I still needed more time.

Do I think he heard every word that came out of my mouth? Yes.

Do I think it mattered to him? No.

Because right after that, he pulled me into a hug and kissed me again—this time more passionately. Like a loving kiss could somehow erase the fact that the last guy I dated lied to me for six months and was also seeing a girl who did coke and ketamine.

Did I kiss him back to try and match the tension and passion? Yes.

Did I hate every second of it? Absofuckinglutely.

The Breakup Text

Eventually, I moved back home. Physically, I was away from him.

But we still texted every day.

And when he started asking for my address, asking what days he should travel to come see me—I knew it was time.

The guilt kept rising because I knew I was leading him on.

So I did what every woman hates when a man does it to avoid commitment:

“Hey Smiles, I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. I need to focus on myself and figure out what I want.”

Again, Women In Male Fields.

If you’re reading this and want to choke slam me through the screen, I completely understand.

And if you’re reading this and want to extend grace, hit my line—because I’ve got a few more stories I need to share.

As I’m typing this, almost a year since my “relationship” with Smiles, I wish I could say I regret it. Or that I want to reach out.

But I don’t.

Maybe nice guys do finish last.

Maybe it was the right person at the wrong time.

Or maybe… we just weren’t compatible.

Trying to make something work just because it feels like it should doesn’t mean it will.

The minute I had to force it was the minute I should’ve pulled back.

But come on, y’all would’ve done it too—for a check.

Since Smiles… nothing.

I haven’t dated anyone since him.  (Went on one date after him but I refuse to talk about that story until my lawyers are present.)

It’s been a year and some change now.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be “100%” ready to date again—but I’m pretty damn close.

I didn’t even realize I was craving romantic love until I had a dream that I had a boyfriend.

A man I’ve never even met.

Like it’s gotten so bad in the real world, the universe had to bless me in my subconscious. Literally throwing me a bone.

So if you’re single right now, let this be our season.

Date. Explore your options.

What’s the worst that could happen?

We get demoralized by a man’s actions?

Literally nothing new.

I’m excited to take y’all on this ‘dating’ journey.

And let’s pray I don’t run into any more Devils because y’all will have to start a go fund me for my bail. 

Till next time, my lovely Ballads💕
Categories
blog romance

Angel Meets Devil

Angel Meets Devil
Chapter 3

Charles Baudelaire – The Flowers of Evil:

“It is the Devil’s cunning to pretend to be simple and make us believe that we are all innocent.”

“Why the snake?” Angel asked, curiosity lacing her voice. The tattoo suited him, she thought. There was something about Devil—dark, alluring, unpredictable. He kept her on her toes, never saying quite what she expected. It scared her in a way that oddly soothed her overthinking mind.

“I just thought it looked cool,” he said with the same casualness that seemed to define him. His answer was so laid-back, so effortless. Angel almost envied it. When it came to her own tattoos, she could spend hours explaining the meaning behind each one, each design carefully chosen, each memory ingrained in her skin.

She noticed his gaze shift to her Godspeed tattoo, and she offered an explanation without him needing to ask. “I got this one because of a song by Frank Ocean. It’s about loving someone so deeply, but knowing you have to part ways, even though you don’t want to. I feel things intensely, and when I have to let go, it takes me a long time to do it. But I always end up doing it because…well, it’s the right thing to do.”

As she spoke, their hands brushed against each other, both of them tracing the delicate lines of her tattoo. Every time his thumb grazed her wrist, where the ink rested, Angel lost track of her thoughts, her words slowing as the sensation took over. His touch felt electric, a quiet, thrilling charge that left her dizzy. She couldn’t focus on anything except the way his skin felt against hers, and the warmth that radiated between them. She could live in this forever.

Devil pointed to her moon tattoo next, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “And the moon? Why the moon, moon girl?” he teased.

She grinned, mimicking the answer he gave her earlier. “I thought it looked cool,” she said, laughter filling up between them. He shook his head, his laugh low and easy.

“But really,” she continued, her tone softening as her fingers brushed over the tattoo, “I love the moon. It comforts me. It’s always there, even when you can’t see it. And obviously beautiful.”

Her eyes shifted from the tattoo to his, and for a moment, everything felt still. The music, the moonlight, the way they sat so close yet so carefully apart—it all made the air feel heavier, charged with an unspoken understanding between them. 

The car hummed softly as they fell into a peaceful silence, only the faint music in the background keeping them company. Angel let her head rest against the seat, feeling at ease. She reached out to caress Devil’s arm, his touch warm as he continued tracing small patterns on her skin. It was nice, almost too nice. She could feel herself sinking into the moment, wondering if she could stay like this forever.

Every so often, their eyes would meet again, and each time the connection felt a little deeper. Angel couldn’t help but laugh softly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. This man is going to kill me, she thought. The intensity of the quiet moments between them was almost overwhelming, but in a way she didn’t want to escape.

“You have a pretty smile,” Devil suddenly said, his voice breaking the silence but in the softest, most sincere way.

Angel smiled back, her heart fluttering. “Thank you,” she said quietly, then added, “You have pretty eyes.” She meant it—the way his eyes seemed to lock on hers made her feel seen in a way that was new to her. Just by looking into his eyes, she felt like she knew him. Like she could tell him anything. It was captivating. 

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he said, still holding her gaze with that same unspoken warmth.

Angel glanced down and noticed that, somewhere in the middle of their comfortable silence, they had started holding hands. He was gently caressing her thumb with his, tracing small, delicate circles. It was a simple touch, but it sent waves through her. She couldn’t stop smiling, feeling that strange combination of excitement and calm she never expected.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she raised their interlocked hands to her lips and planted a soft kiss on Devil’s hand. The action was instinctive, so quick that it didn’t register until her lips pulled away.

She hesitated, too nervous to look up at him, but curiosity got the best of her. Slowly, she peeled her gaze toward Devil, searching for his reaction. Before she could process her own uncertainty, he mirrored her, lifting their hands to his lips and placing a small kiss on her skin.

His lips were soft, sending a wave of warmth that traveled through her arm. There was something about the sweetness of the moment, something Angel wasn’t used to. Devil had a way of making her feel… affectionate. Her fingers continued to trace the lines of his arm, her lips trailing gentle kisses from his hand to his forearm. This was unfamiliar territory, yet it felt so natural—for him, for Devil. He brought these small, tender parts of her to life. And she was happy to oblige.

And Devil returned the favor.

Angel wasn’t used to this type of sweetness. It wasn’t as though she had dated men who were mean or unkind, but it was the ease of it all that caught her off guard. She welcomed it, never wanting to let it go.

“So… what was your first impression of me?” Devil asked, still caressing her hand but avoiding her gaze this time.
Is he… nervous? Angel wondered. She had thought she was the only one wrapped up in her own head, but maybe Devil was, too. The thought comforted her. It reassured her that this—whatever this was—scared him a little bit, too.

https://balladsofthe20somethings.blog/2025/05/03/angel-meets-devil-4/
Categories
blog

Angel Meets Devil

Click to read Chapter 1 https://balladsofthe20somethings.blog/2025/03/18/angel-meets-devil/

Chapter 2

Edgar Allan Poe – The Imp of the Perverse:

“We stand upon the brink of a precipice. We peer into the abyss – we grow sick and dizzy. Our first impulse is to shrink from the danger. Unaccountably we remain”

“Of course I came,” he replied, meeting her gaze with unwavering eye contact, each word dripping with sincerity. In that moment, Angel felt a spark ignite between them, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of something new or just another fleeting moment in a world full of uncertainties.

He looked at her, noticing her outfit and how she’d styled her hair.

“You look really pretty,” he said, his voice soft but sure.

Angel glanced away, feeling the warmth creep up her neck. She didn’t want Devil to know she’d probably replay that moment ten times over before going to bed tonight. She looked back at him, this time holding his gaze a little longer.

“Thank you,” she said. “You look good, too.”

Still meeting her eyes, he smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

Not wanting to let the conversation stall, Angel shifted, asking what had happened today. Now that he was here, maybe they could laugh about it. Devil explained that he honestly didn’t know how he’d forgotten and had genuinely thought tomorrow was their date. His work days had been long, and all the hours had started blurring together.

Hearing him explain, seeing the way his shoulders slumped a little in apology, made Angel feel better. She could tell he really meant it.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now, so…” Angel’s voice trailed off. She never was good at telling guys how she felt, not when it mattered. Letting Devil know she was starting to care for him felt risky—like saying it out loud might somehow unravel everything.

He kept his eyes on her, as if reading her hesitation.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

​​“I knew that if I didn’t come today, I was gonna lose you,” Devil said, half-joking but with a seriousness in his eyes that made Angel pause. She laughed softly, but they both knew he was exactly right. Another thing she liked about him—he understood. He knew how much these first moments, these chances to build something real, meant to her. He didn’t want to mess it up either.

“I just… really wanted to see you, I guess.” Angel’s voice faltered as she looked down, her hands suddenly busy with nothing in particular. She wasn’t used to being this open, especially not so soon. But here she was, laying it bare.

“I know. Me too… and I’m sorry again. That won’t happen again.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Angel believed a man.

They sat there, the moon hanging high above them, music playing low enough to let their words breathe but loud enough to fill the spaces between. All the nerves and worry Angel had about meeting Devil melted away. Their conversation flowed as easily as it had through texts. They laughed, teasing and bouncing off each other’s humor effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It scared her, how comfortable she felt. But it also excited her. There was no nervousness, just this strange, wonderful ease. Like they’d known each other for much longer than two weeks. Like they could finally exhale.

Angel noticed Devil had a few tattoos, and she’d always been curious about why people choose certain symbols to mark their bodies forever. She had tattoos herself, each carrying a meaning she cherished deeply. She thought this was another way to understand Devil.

“Can I see your tattoos?” Angel asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Of course.” He rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a small sword inked into his forearm and a coiled snake beside it.

She glanced up at him, pausing before asking, “Can I touch it?”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in encouragement. It was the first time they would touch, and though it was innocent, it felt loaded with significance. They’d been sitting in the car for over an hour, talking and laughing, but this—this felt intimate. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was the soft hum of Frank Ocean’s Ivy playing through the speakers, or perhaps it was the way the moonlight draped over them as if wrapping them in a quiet spell.

Angel gently traced her fingers along the sword tattoo, her touch lingering. “Why did you get this one?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I…honestly don’t know,” he admitted, glancing down at his own arm. “It was my first tattoo. I just thought it was cool at the time, but now I kinda want to cover it up.”

“Oh, perfect,” Angel said with a mischievous grin, still caressing his arm. “You can cover it up with my name. Or better yet, my face.”

Devil threw his head back and laughed, and that sound sent a wave of warmth through her. She would have listened to that laugh on a loop. She’d pull a microphone out and perform a whole stand-up routine if it meant she could hear it again.

“You’re funny,” he said, a smile still lighting up his face. “Let’s see how tonight goes—maybe.”

She laughed with him, enjoying the ease between them. “So, what are you thinking of getting instead? If not my face, obviously.”

“Probably a spider,” he said, locking eyes with her again, his tone more serious this time, the playfulness fading into something quieter.

Their eye contact lingered, the atmosphere shifting. Angel’s fingers remained on his arm, moving slowly, almost thoughtfully. As Infrunami by Steve Lacy began to play, the lyrics filled the space between them: 

You’re the one I want, You’re the one I need, I’m beggin’ you, please…

She wondered if he was feeling the same pull she was, if he too was silently connecting the lyrics to this moment, to them. Will he also go back home and replay this song just to relive this moment?

Angel was the first to break eye contact, her gaze dropping to his other tattoo—a snake that coiled around his arm. Her fingers followed, tracing the serpent’s lines, her touch slow and soft, as though she were studying a piece of art.

Want More? No worries, click below for chapter 3!

https://balladsofthe20somethings.blog/?p=353

Categories
blog

Angel Meets Devil

Chapter 1

Summer of 2023.

A story that captures the complexity of love, self-doubt, betrayal and longing. Follow the journey on how Angel fights between what she wants and what she knows is best for her.

Angel is back home for the summer, waiting until she can return to her life in Normal—the place she stays for school, where her friends are close, and her independence feels more solid. It’s May. She just moved out of her apartment and is counting down the days until she can move back in with her sister and friends in June.

“Only a month, and I’ll be gone,” Angel kept telling herself.

Being home wasn’t terrible, but after moving out of her parents’ house and curating her own space, it was hard to settle back into her old environment. The bedsheets she’d carefully picked out on Amazon didn’t feel anything like the ones her dad had kept for eight years. The isolation of the city where her dad lived only made it worse. It was the kind of place where you raised your kids, sent them to college, and then… Well, stay until you die.

Normal—where Angel had been living for the past three years—wasn’t perfect either. It was where people went to school, took gap years, or lingered after graduation, unsure of the next step. Still, it had become her second, and sometimes first, home. The sense of familiarity she’d found there made it easier to disconnect from her actual hometown and the people in it.

Angel was staying with her mom for the week, which she enjoyed because her mom was always up for talking or going out .It was Saturday night, and her mom, Sonny, had suggested they all go bowling—Angel, Sonny, and Perry, Angel’s fun-loving stepdad.

By 7 PM, Angel and Perry were ready, as usual, before Sonny. Bored and in her twenties, Angel did what any single person would do: she re-downloaded the dating apps. She had a love-hate relationship with these apps, always telling herself she’d deleted them for good, only to find herself reinstalling Tinder when she had nothing better to do.

Angel wasn’t exactly failing at love, but let’s just say she wasn’t excelling at it either. Of course, she insisted that she only downloaded the app for fun, or because she was bored, but there was always that small, unspoken hope that she might actually meet someone worth liking. (She had once, but… we don’t talk about Bruno.)

As she swiped through profiles, mostly left, occasionally right, she thought about how simple her quota were: funny, tall, and attractive. That’s not too much to ask, right? The problem was that even when someone met those basic standards, their in depth personalities would always drag them down. Once she matched with someone, they would disappoint her by saying things like, “So what you doing tonight” hinting that they should move things from the app to their bedroom. 

Then she came across a profile that caught her attention.

For legal purposes, let’s name him Devil.

Angel came across Devil’s profile. He looked tall, lived near her mom’s neighborhood, was cute, and had a decent sense of style. His profile read, “So you’re telling me a shrimp fried this rice?” That made her laugh—it was funny and sort of original. She felt like she had heard it somewhere before but couldn’t pinpoint where, and on the first read, it made her smile. Intrigued, she swiped right.

When the screen flashed MATCHED in big, playful letters, Angel felt her curiosity grow. Knowing he was also at least a little interested made her feel a bit more confident.

Angel wasn’t the type to wait for the guy to send the first message—she’d learned early on that if you wait for a man, you’ll be waiting forever. Still, she hesitated. She didn’t want to start with a boring “hey” or throw out a generic compliment. Weirdly enough, she wanted to impress him, to show that she had a sense of humor too.

So, she typed out her reply: “A shrimp did, in fact, fried this rice.”

As soon as she hit send, she regretted it.

Really, Angel? she thought, That’s the first thing you say?

She spiraled into self-doubt, convincing herself that this random stranger would think she was some kind of weird freak. But then her phone buzzed. It was Devil, responding already. He either had impressive texting skills or spent way too much time on the app.

Curious, she opened Tinder to see what he’d said:

“You’re the only person who’s ever gotten my joke.”

———————————–

Angel hadn’t expected to meet someone who could shift her entire perspective in just two weeks, but here she was, contemplating whether to stay because of a guy she hadn’t even met in person yet. It felt ridiculous, but at the same time, it felt real. Every time she thought about packing up and heading back to Normal, an image of Devil would flash in her mind—his texts, their jokes, the way he made her feel like she could say anything. The connection was instant, like the two of them had skipped all the awkward first-date jitters and jumped straight into something that felt… real.

But how could it feel so real when they hadn’t even met?

Angel had always been careful with her feelings, or at least tried to be. She knew what it was like to give too much of herself, to hope for something that wasn’t there. But this time, it was different. With Devil, everything felt so easy, so natural. They talked about everything—his job, her summer plans, the music they both loved, and the random jokes they’d send to each other throughout the day. He made her laugh. And he listened. Every time she opened her phone to see his name pop up, it was like a little jolt of excitement.

That excitement was becoming addictive.

Angel found herself thinking about him constantly. The good morning texts made her smile more than she’d like to admit. And when he’d told her he couldn’t bear the thought of her going back to school, her heart had leapt. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so seen, so wanted. But that also scared her.

There was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that none of this was real yet. They hadn’t met. They hadn’t even had the chance to sit across from each other, to see if the same spark existed in person. What if it didn’t? What if the version of Devil she was building in her head was just that—a version? A fantasy she was creating to fill the gaps of her own loneliness?

But then again, what if it was real? What if meeting him only confirmed what she already felt, that this was something special? Something worth staying for?

Angel’s chest tightened at the thought of leaving in June, knowing she might never know the answer. What if she left and missed out on something that could change everything? She didn’t want to lose this feeling, the flutter in her stomach every time his name appeared on her screen. The idea of leaving now felt impossible, like she’d be walking away from a chance at something… more.

Her logical side told her to stick with her plan—move back, start fresh, focus on herself. But her heart wasn’t so sure. She wanted to stay, just for a little while longer, to see where this could go. Maybe it wasn’t practical, but when had feelings ever been practical? The intensity of what she felt for Devil was undeniable, and it was pulling her in, making her question everything she thought she wanted.

Could she really leave when this was just beginning?

“So when are you going to take me out on a date?” Angel asked Devil, her voice playful as they laughed while playing Roblox together on the phone. She had been trying to find a way to bring up meeting face-to-face, but he seemed to be tiptoeing around it. Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit, so she decided to just ask directly.

“What are you doing this Thursday? Are you free?” he replied without missing a beat.

That was something Angel really liked about Devil—he never made her feel awkward about how she spoke her mind. She had feared her question might come off as too forward, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he appreciated her honesty. She loved how quickly he responded with a plan, setting a date immediately. It was such a small thing, but to her, it meant a lot. Angel was used to men who would argue over everything she said instead of just offering a solution. Devil’s decisiveness felt refreshing.

The entire week, Angel found herself counting down the days. She was finally going to meet the guy who had kept her eyes glued to her phone for weeks, the guy whose voice she looked forward to hearing on late-night calls. She was nervous, of course, but the excitement outweighed everything else. In many ways, he already felt familiar to her, like they had known each other for years.

Thursday evening came, and Angel was at her dad’s house, getting ready. She hadn’t been told what they were doing, so she opted for something that felt both cute and comfortable. A short skirt—not too long, but not too revealing—paired with a plain tank top and her favorite black and brown flannel. She wanted to look stylish without trying too hard. As she finished getting ready, she kept texting Devil, hoping he would mention their date. But nothing. His texts came in, but they felt casual, as if today were just any other day.

Around 4 PM, Devil told her he was going to take a nap. Angel replied with a simple “okay,” though her stomach twisted slightly. Then 5 PM came. Still nothing. By 6 PM, her nerves had started to kick in.

“Is he going to flake on me at the last minute?” she thought. She didn’t want to assume the worst or reduce him to that, but something felt off. He hadn’t mentioned their date all day. Angel hesitated to bring it up, worried she might come across as overly eager. The last thing she wanted was to seem desperate or pushy, but her excitement was quickly turning into anxiety.

By 7:50 PM, she was checking her phone obsessively, waiting for any sign of him. Then, finally, a message from Devil popped up.

“Good morning,” Devil texted. It was his usual greeting after waking up from his naps, but this time, it landed differently.

“Good morning,” Angel replied, forcing a smile despite the growing tension in her chest. Nothing about today felt good. She was livid—angry at herself for taking this long to realize that Devil either completely forgot about their date or was just an asshole. Neither option was ideal.

He quickly asked, “Are you at your mom’s place?” She reminded him she wouldn’t be going over there until Friday. As soon as she said that, she could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

“Oh my God, today isn’t Wednesday,” he exclaimed, his tone shifting to one of panic. “Angel, I’m so sorry. I thought today was Wednesday because I’m off tomorrow.”

Angel’s heart sank. To his credit, he sounded genuinely remorseful, but the reality of his mistake felt catastrophic. She had been looking forward to this day since he asked her out. It was the one bright spot in a long, mundane week. How could he mix up the days for their first meeting?

“It’s cool,” she replied dryly, though it was anything but. In that moment, Angel felt the weight of her disappointment crash down around her. She had spent hours preparing, her excitement building with each passing day. Now she felt foolish for having allowed herself to hope so much. The idea of explaining to her best friend that the guy she had been raving about had forgotten their date was downright humiliating.

“Okay…” Devil said cautiously, sensing the tension in her voice. He wasn’t oblivious; he could feel the shift in their dynamic. The easy connection they had felt for weeks was suddenly strained, and Angel found herself contemplating whether this was a sign. Was this how it always went? Building up anticipation only to have it dashed at the last moment?

“I’m just… upset. I was really looking forward to seeing you,” Angel admitted, letting out a shaky breath. “But it’s okay.” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

Then, out of nowhere, Devil says, “Send me your address”

Angel froze. In that moment, her frustration cracked, and a flicker of hope ignited. Could he really be trying to salvage this?

She hesitated for a second, weighing her options. Did she want to give him her address and risk more disappointment? But as she thought about it, she realized that despite everything, a part of her wanted to take this leap. She wanted to believe in the possibility of something real.

“Okay,” she finally said, giving him her address. Her heart raced as she hit send, a mixture of excitement and anxiety coursing through her. All he responded with was “Okay.”

“Okay… what?” she asked, carefully, wanting to clarify but also hoping for good news.

“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour.”

Angel felt a rush of adrenaline. An hour. The anticipation of finally meeting him sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but it also brought a flood of uncertainty. Was this really worth it? She had been so ready to leave and go back to her life, to the safety and familiarity of Normal. But now, the thought of possibly stepping into something new and exciting with Devil felt like an intoxicating risk.

As she paced her room, thoughts raced through her mind. What if he flaked again? What if he was just a nice guy behind a screen, but in real life, it all fell apart? She felt a swell of anxiety, but she also knew that she couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

For the first time in a long while, she was torn between two worlds: the comfort of her old life, which was so easy to slip back into, and the thrilling uncertainty of something new. She had been counting down the days until she could return to Normal, yet here she was, clinging to the chance of building something with Devil.

In that moment, she realized that she was at a crossroads, and despite the fear creeping in, she wanted to choose the unknown.

An hour had passed, and Devil was texting Angel to come outside. She couldn’t believe it. Just one hour ago, she was ready to block him and hurry back to Normal, and now here she was, spraying perfume all over herself, ready to meet him with the biggest smile on her face. After his mix-up, she hadn’t expected to see him at all.

Yet, as she spritzed herself, she felt a flutter of excitement. Angel was used to expressing her frustration to men who didn’t seem to care or even try to fix things. This feeling was so unfamiliar, yet here she was, in an unfamiliar situation. Devil had acknowledged her feelings and immediately wanted to make it right. That simple act of consideration felt like a breath of fresh air.

Angel stepped outside and spotted an unfamiliar gray Sinatra car with tinted windows parked right in front of her house. “Damn Chicago men and their tinted windows,” she thought, her heart racing with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. She had no idea what she was stepping into, really, but the thrill of the unknown beckoned her forward.

She climbed into the passenger seat, and there he was—the guy she had met on the app that usually showcased a parade of terrible men, now sitting right next to her. Devil wore black pants and a graphic t-shirt, a black hat perched atop his head. His diamond earrings caught the light, and a nose piercing added a hint of edge to his already striking appearance. He looked exactly like his profile on Tinder but somehow even cuter in person—better. The closeness she had felt over the phone transformed into something electric, amplified by the proximity of their bodies.

“I can’t believe you came,” she said, unable to contain her smile. The nerves were still there, but they were overshadowed by an exhilarating rush of hope.

Want more? Well, You’re in luck! Heres Chapter 2

https://balladsofthe20somethings.blog/2025/03/29/angel-meets-devil-2/

Is this your new site? Log in to activate admin features and dismiss this message
Log In