Matt Joseph Diaz

These days, I’m gentler with people than I’ve ever been. I’ve learned of the beauty and strength in each and every person regardless of where they come from or what they’ve been through — and with every interaction, I understand more why Mike saw the best in people.

“She just grabbed the bacon off my plate! She didn’t ask, she didn’t even say anything, she just assumed it was OK and took it!”
“It’s just bacon —”
“It’s NOT about the Bacon, Donald. It’s about the principle.”

My roommates [...] weren't aware that I live with bipolar disorder until a few weeks after I first moved in. In the month or so since, I’ve learned a lot about the way we approach our interpersonal relationships when living with mental illness, especially with those who are closest to us — both emotionally and literally.

Being unable to post photos of funny signs outside of bars or live-tweet bad reality TV had more of an effect than I'd anticipated.

I was definitely what you might consider a “late bloomer.” When I was younger, I was exceedingly shy around women and insecure about my weight, and I put no effort into my appearance whatsoever. I didn’t have a decent haircut until 2013, and even that’s debatable.

Dear anti-feminist men, 

I’m writing to you because I want to have a discussion.

If I get into a heterosexual relationship and spend the rest of my life with that person, I will still be bisexual. I will still feel that attraction to the man on the other side of the bar, even if I’m in love with my partner who happens to be a woman.

CN: suicide

In the spring of 2013, I met a woman on OKCupid. She was petite, with a kind smile and a voice so soft that it could melt all your troubles away. Her shock of red curls went down to her shoulders — and because of this, and the fact that we no longer speak, let's call her Ann.

Ann was a few years older than I, wise and mature. She also, it turned out, spent her professional life beating up strangers for their sexual satisfaction.

I’m recovering from some pretty major surgery that has made it really uncomfortable to move around. In addition, because of the painkillers and antibiotics, obviously, I’m not allowed to drink or basically do anything I enjoy anymore.