I'm not in a good headspace right now. Mainly because of the money I don't think I'll get back. I could have just bought my skincare products. At least, I would look better, not like the charred, burnt face I have right now!
When I say I want to be pretty, I don't just mean pretty pretty. I mean, good-looking enough to make heads turn. Gender doesn't really matter. Good looking enough that people would want to be around me. Good looking enough that when people found out that I am gay, they would say, "at least he's good looking " or "he's so good looking though". The stigma against ugly boys who were gay would be too much for me. I had endured enough as it was. And from the pornography I've watched, I think I could still sleep with a woman, if I put my mind to it. So bi then, I guess.
Well, going off track aren't I? Let's get back to the roommates. So basically, they are saying I'm a manipulator and all because I used them for my own benefit. To understand this better, let's go back to last semester, shall we? Let me throw more light on the matter.
So, it's the last semester, where my friendship with two of my roommates is quite inappropriate. In the sense that, they treat me like a girl. To make matters worse, they have access to a girl. If you know what I mean.
Now, obviously, I want this not to be going on. But I'm not bold enough to say it. And before you say, then you must have liked it. This one time, in middle school, I was boarding a friend's car to go home, his mother accidentally left without him and I couldn't tell her. Why? Because I wasn't bold enough. It might be a mental illness. So maybe Samuel was right about me having one, just not the right one. I've never been the confident one. Usually, when problems come my way. I just let them right themselves, by themselves. They usually do. Back to the car thingy, his mom noticed he wasn't in the car, her son called her with someone else's phone. She looked at me incredulously. So yes, problem solved. Maybe you'll understand why I couldn't tell them now.
Also, some of the things they told me were quite flattering. Pretty eyes, that's all I can remember, and that's all I need to remember.
Still, last semester. I can't really find the words to say some of the things they did to me. But picture a man and a woman at a nightclub feeling each other. Some of that went on. A lot of times too. It was so uncomfortable. And after all this, I think the one lesson I learnt is to speak up for myself. Or rather, a lesson I'm still trying to learn. It will, of course, take some time to master.
Oh, lest I forget. Did they ever get hard during those nightclub parties? Yes, yes they did. Did I? Yes, but not fully. I have very good self-control. And my arousal, forced arousal, if I may call it that, was not really because of what they did to me, but more so the pictures it put in my head. So on a day when I put my mind off it and didn't imagine anything lewd, I was good to go. I can not say the same for them. So yes, that's it.
Oh no! Liar! You said they accused you of manipulating them! Patience, I'm getting to that. But before, that. I could've stopped it, several times. But like I said, if you have no sense of self-importance you'll most likely look for it in places you're not supposed to. So, again, not my fault.
Now, in Ghanaian high schools, every student is required to have a chop-box. A wooden or plastic box for placing edibles inside. Snacks, drinks and whatnot.
My manipulation, as they called it, came in when I asked for something and they hesitated to do it and I had to convince them.
Convince them, that was it. I'd rub their thighs, look at them sweetly I think, I honestly can't remember. They'd "melt" at my touch- as they say in the poems, or movies? One of them. And they'd give me what I asked for. That was how I manipulated them.
Shocking, isn't it? Probably not. That is, if you agree with them. I mean I am the one telling the tale, so maybe you would think I'm favouring myself. But trust me, I am being truthful. That too must surely be funny. Me? Telling the truth? But I don't lie, I mean not to you anyway, the person reading this. The whole point of me writing this is to get it out of me. I can't lie. Will not lie.
I would once again like to commend myself for keeping my very own identity a secret. I don't think there's any book quite like mine.
Ahh, where was I? Oh yes, manipulation right. So obviously I denied it. Because I mean, come on! You have got to be kidding me? But then again they were kids, so...? Not much to expect from them, I guess. Is that a pun? I think it is.
They annoyed to to my core so much that I ended up agreeing with them to get them to stop talking. Did they, yes for a while. But then people are never really satisfied with you accepting something. They want more, to mould you into their perfect little dog. To let you play according to their tunes only. And when I say people I don't mean me. Obviously, I could never do such a thing. Maybe this is a joke too, considering my history.
But this is what I wanted isn't it? A normal friendship. Apparently, they can't be friends with me without, the abnormal benefits I think. That's rather unfortunate, I almost liked them, as friends. Nothing more. It could never ne anything more than friends. For them, at least.
I really wanted to end with them on this chapter but, they've done far too much to me to be given only one chapter. I commend you guys for that. You have me writing about you even after cutting you off. Maybe I am the dog you treated me like after all.