He is a rock; he is an island.

The Pedant responded to my recent email to tell me his nose herpes* is in outbreak mode so we probably shouldn’t see each other for a few days, but once that’s subsided he’ll be in touch.

No mention of my novella that I emailed him the other day (a literal novella, as in a piece of creative writing I made and thought The Pedant – an aspiring novelist himself – might be interested in).  But then again he didn’t ask to see my writing; I sent it of my own accord, without his consent, and he may not in fact feel like reading it.  Or he might be too busy, or whatever.  So I’ll just wait and see if he mentions he’s read it and if he never does, meh.

It’s worth noting, though, that when the two of us were tidying my bedroom a while back we came across a sheaf of printouts of stories and blurbs and poems I’d written.  And The Pedant flipped through these and even read one of them (kind of uncool to do this without asking first, but whatevs).  So it seems like he’s probably at least a little interested in the things I create.

That same day, I hung a shelf and moved a bunch of my paintings onto it.  These paintings had been on a different shelf with their faces to the wall, and as I transferred them to their new home – facing them briefly toward The Pedant in the process – I noticed him glancing at all of them, super-casually, feigning disinterest.  I don’t know why he wouldn’t just go “Hey, can I look at these?” and openly check ’em out.  He’s weird.

Which reminds me of a time when I told him I needed some good photos of myself to send around for modelling jobs and he said “Why don’t you just use one of those ones on Facebook where you’re wearing the black dress?”  The pictures he was talking about were from an album I made before we’d even met; he could only have found them by digging through my profile a bit.  And that’s when I realized for the first time that The Pedant has probably stalked his way through all my pictures, just like I’ve done to him (and do with anyone I’m interested in).  I love knowing this. 🙂

I think The Pedant is pretty caught up in the idea of being a manly-man; he doesn’t like it (he often makes Facebook posts about hating the traditional ideas of “masculinity” and “femininity” and wanting to see them abolished) but he does it anyway.  Maybe refusing to admit he’s curious about my art or writing is part of his manly-man facade.  I will say that he’s dropped a lot of this facade since we started seeing each other – especially his tendency to “take the lead” during sexytimes.  He’s mostly stopped backing me up into walls to kiss me, coming up behind me and twisting my head around at an unnatural angle to kiss me, generally steering and repositioning me, etc.  For whatever reason, he’s stopped spouting off gender essentialist stuff all the time when we hang out.  He talks about emotional/vulnerable stuff with me now (he didn’t used to), like the bitterness he feels toward his parents for the crap they’ve done to him.

I’d like to think he’s slowly beginning to trust that I really don’t care about traditional gender roles, and as such he’s safe to open up to me and show a side of himself that’s not so Toughguy McBossypants.  I don’t know if that’s true, but I’d like to think it. 🙂

Not gonna lie, I have been fantasizing that he’ll read the story I sent him and it’ll rock his world and make him see me in a whole new light.  Although even if he was impressed by my writing prowess and fascinated by the things I had to say, he probably wouldn’t admit it.

 

*Herpes can infect any mucous membrane.  The Pedant gets cold sores in his nostril(s).

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