I like this guy. I really do. But being with him comes with a kind of tension I didn’t expect—because he’s unfiltered. Too unfiltered. The way he talks about me, about us, about our private moments… sometimes it feels like there’s no line at all. Things we’ve shared in intimacy, things I trusted him with, get thrown into stories or conversations that feel inappropriate, careless, or just… wrong.

It’s jarring. It makes me question what’s safe to share with him, and what even exists as “ours.” One minute, he’s playful and affectionate, and I feel connected. The next, he’s oversharing details that I thought were private, exposing bits of our intimacy to others in ways that make me cringe—and sometimes, hurt.

I catch myself holding back, second-guessing what I say, what I show, because I never know when it’ll end up somewhere it shouldn’t. And I hate that I have to do that—because I like him. I want to be open. I want to trust. But the unpredictability of what he chooses to share keeps me on edge.

It’s exhausting to feel like I can’t trust my own words, my own intimacy, because he doesn’t seem to have a filter.

I’m learning to navigate it, slowly:

• I hold my boundaries tightly, because intimacy isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, and that deserves respect.
• I call him out when he crosses lines, even though it’s uncomfortable. Silence isn’t an option if I want to protect my sense of safety.
• I savor the moments of trust, when he’s thoughtful and present, reminding me why I like him at all.
• I separate his unfiltered nature from my worth, because his behavior doesn’t define me—it just exposes his limits.

Liking someone who can’t—or won’t—filter themselves is messy, and damn, its hard. It’s thrilling at times, yes, but it’s also a minefield. I can’t control what he says, but I can control what I accept, what I protect, and how I honor the private parts of myself.

And the truth is, the unpredictability isn’t just about timing or moods—it’s about respect. His words reveal boundaries he hasn’t set for himself, and I’m left deciding which ones I can live with—and which ones I can’t.  Because it’s one thing to be unpredictable. It’s another to make the private parts of our life public without a thought.