(2) February 14th 2009
Kurt.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm scared that I have a crush on you. Because I don't want it to ruin everything because even though I'm fairly sure I am gay, I haven't told anyone, not even you (The real life you anyway). I should tell my parents but I'm not sure I can hack it. Maybe soon I guess. But Kurt I saw how upset you were because it was Valentine's Day today and nobody gave you a card. I wanted to. I really did. Even if I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be as a friend saying you're a wonderful person or as a guy who had a bit of a crush on you. I don't know.
I don't know.
Maybe that will become something else I'll write a lot, besides fuck. Because writing fuck makes me feel happier because it's fun to exaggerate the letters on the page and stuff, but I don't know... it's more like I'm not pretending to know what I'm doing. That's good though right? Because even if I pretend to know what I'm doing in the real life world I don't have to pretend to know what I'm doing in this world. Because this world is letters and ink and paper and fuck. Nothing to have to hide in here. This place is safe and nobody's mean. I'm going to stop here though because my arm hurts to write from where I smashed my shoulder into someone's locker today when I was pushed. I don't like lockers. They're not as helpful as they are harmful. And solid. Very solid. And they have sharp corners and heavy padlocks. I don't like lockers. At all.