You guys have no idea how hard it was to not edit this while I transcribed it.
I find it hard to look him in the eyes. He wears his happiness like a comfy old t-shirt, smiling in bliss because he’s holding me, finally, after all this time waiting for each other. We’ve stopped beating around the bush and spend our spare time kissing, but for some reason I feel that I’m only in this out of curiosity, not from the pure love and desire I see shining on his little boy face. In my detached state I am easily able to tell him that he is taking this more seriously than I am, but then I feel sorry and also wonder if maybe I do love him but I am afraid he will hurt me again so I am hurting him first. I run my fingers over his bony face and kiss him again, feeling mean and sexy and powerful and cruel all at once.
There is more below this, scratched out later with a different pen. I don’t think I care to decipher it. This guy was so weird, I don’t really want to know what else I had to say about him.
Also! Did this happen to anyone else? It happened repeatedly to me: I like a guy for a long time, he finally decides he likes me, we get together, he TURNS IT UP TO 11, I lose interest. I think that’s why Will is so perfect for me–we always liked each other equally, even if one of us didn’t admit it at first (me).