Pretty Face, Dark Soul
You’re going to laugh at me, but it must be said. I think my feelings for Jeremy have begun to cool a bit. Maybe I have a pretty face and a dark soul...no, I’m not evil—at least not 100%--it’s just that I’ve got to know him better. He’s no longer my mysterious older crush. He’s a man. A really smart, really insecure man—with a massive cock.
I’ve begun to realize his standoffish thing is really just his way of protecting himself. He’s so scared to be hurt he doesn’t want to let anyone in...he’s also so afraid of being laughed at he doesn’t express himself very well. Part of me wants to hold him and take his pain away. The other part of me wants to slap him and tell him to grow up.
Like, you’re super smart and pretty well off—get some therapy and stop acting like the world is some dark, depraved place. Yes, it kind of is but only when you look at it that way. I still care about him; I wish I didn’t, but I do. At the same time, I think I stopped putting him on a pedestal. He’s not flawless, it’s just that his problems are so different than mine.
Anyway, he’s moving out next month (some trap house in Brooklyn I’m sure). He says I should come and visit.
I think I will.