i bought myself some nice posters when my student loans came through this semester. y'know, grown-up art-type posters, the kind that have to be framed. i picked them up from the framer today, and they are lovely. (seriously, you should check this guy out.) but as i looked at them, i realized that for as mysterious and circumspect as i think i am, i am about as opaque as glass.
the pictures i chose all have themes. "teach me something." "how long can we do this?" and the most transparent of all: "she loves him more than anybody. i don't think he cares." could the connections to the other boy be more obvious? it's a good thing for me that the ball and chain has no sense of how deep my disaffection runs. (he would also never dream that i could ever be as evil as i actually am in the parameters of our relationship, so that helps.)
i try so hard to be discreet. i try to be aloof. hell, there's a reason why everyone's identities are so couched around here. but at the end of the day, i am who i am, and i'm a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve. it's funny; part of my affinity with the other boy is my admiration for the way he handles his emotional life. he is always in control, always on top of things. he handles his business, one foot in front of the other, no matter what's going on inside. he doesn't feel the need to talk about it. ever. (in fact, he will actively avoid these conversations - it's only our long history, and my persistence, that has led to the maybe ten times he's shared deep emotional stuff with me.) i wish i could be even a tiny bit like that. but my emotions spill over the sides and splash everywhere. i am an open book, right down to the posters on my wall.
makes living a double life a dangerous proposition indeed...
Letter 70: Be Louder
4 weeks ago