Friday November 15, 2013
Of course he was trying to impress me. I know what that stupid display of affection was about. I mean, at the time I didn’t realize it was affection, and I’m sure neither did he, but oh, is it clear right now. He thought (I’m sure of me subconsciously)that painting a big red and bloody X through the mural I had hanging in the library would get the attention of book-readers, and anarchists. He was trying to make a point about literature and oppression. I know his type, he’s as translucent as Saran Wrap. He likes to put up a big fight, make a big statement, and then get at someone who actually matters to him so he can be closer to them. That’s what he was doing for me. I know it wasn’t hate, but desperation! It’s so easy to see through that stuff. It’s all just a show, and a reminder that he wasn’t held enough as an infant (easy mistake).