Quoted By:
In school, I stayed in an invisible closet. Everyone knew I was a social outcast with zero friends. Literally, zero. From kindergarten to senior year, I transferred through six school districts. I had not one single 'friend' at any of them. I wasn't exactly self aware, of my awkward appearance or shitty style. I'd spend school hours scribbling notes to my fake secret boyfriends, that later evolved into warped and deranged fan fiction. I rapidly aged these boyfriends into grown men, old enough to put my father to shame. At the same time, my classmates kept asking "Are you a fag? Are you gay? Are you a homo?" because I had no girlfriend, literally the only guy in my grade without one. By this time in HS, shit was getting weird, because I was having an awakening. At home, I grew up totally secluded by religious psycho parents. They kept me so neurotic, I was ignorant on basic sex knowledge even for a teen, outside of what I learned in public health class (which focused us more on the opposite sex, versus our own.)
As I liked to play Pokemon, I started adding my attraction for older guys into my fic. I'd write about Pryce and Byron, being my 'father' and 'grandfather', and other psychosexual shit like that. I actually didn't really like Roark, but did write a fic of myself as him, in this fucked up fic with Byron. One day, while getting bullied in the hallway between classes, this dickstick who had totally been harassing me all school-year (this was February by that point), tripped me, and my books and shit went everywhere. I was the type who carried a huge pile of books from class to class, to save locker trips. All my notebooks scattered, papers fell out of folders, and kids walked by kicking shit everywhere. To fuck it up worse, my god awful glasses that were already 9 years old by this point, fell off (of course they did, they always did) and got kicked against some lockers.
(continued.)
