See? I'm already thinking about a van and strangling: where did those thoughts come from, unless they had been there all along?

Socially Awkward Guy Who Makes No Eye Contact says:

I had a crush on one of my teachers in high school. She was beautiful, and always seemed to be smiling, even when she was looking at me: no one smiles at me. When she was at the chalkboard I would stare at her legs in her black heels and black pencil skirts, and admire the mystery of her ass. She caught me looking sometimes, but she still smiled…

One day she asked me to stay after school, and I spent the rest of the school day wondering what it would be about. Surely she wasn't going to confess her attraction to me, was she? I've heard about those things happening, but those things never ever happen to me. Except for my math teacher Mr. Sutter, and I don't like to talk about THAT afternoon…

So I show up at her classroom at the end of the day, sweating from nervousness and anticipation. She says she notices how awkward I can be with other students and not to worry, there is a whole other world after high school. I've since learned the Whole Other World pretty much sucks just like High School, but her words made me feel better at the time…

Then she gave me a pamphlet for a Depression and Suicide Hotline. Seriously. Like she must have thought that my life sucked so bad that I MUST want to die? I told her I was not suicidal: she listened, nodded, and then said it is common that many young men questioning their sexuality find themselves feeling there is no reason to go on…

Great. Now she thinks I'm a suicidal guy who is secretly gay. But it gets worse. Of course it does: it's, things always get worse. She asks me if I had pets, and I told her about my rat. She then asked if I ever felt the compulsion to harm animals. I've read about serial killers that started by harming animals, so I realize why she is asking the question: she thinks I'm a secretly gay suicidal guy with possible serial murders in his future…

The thing is: she is a Teacher. She knows a lot of things. Maybe I AM secretly Gay. Maybe I WILL abduct strangers in a van and strangle them out in the woods. See? I'm already thinking about a van and strangling: where did those thoughts come from, unless they had been there all along?

Still, I don't feel like killing myself; I just want to pee on girls. I told my teacher I was fine, and then summoned up the courage to ask her if she ever had sex with her students: I figured we now had that kind of open honesty between us and all. Instead she looked abhorred at the thought, but I don't know if she was abhorred in general or just abhorred at the thought of having sex with me in particular. Anyway, the thought made me come in my pants, and then I went home…

I still remember that teacher fondly; even if she was wrong, it seemed like she actually cared. That doesn't happen much to me. Then again, maybe she wasn't wrong, and I am just in denial. If I were to strangle someone they'd have to have a thin neck, though: my hands are not very strong...

Like no one else thinks these things.

I hope the Girl with the Blue Hair is working at McDonalds today.




I am Laslo.


https://althouse.blogspot.com/2016/12/i-teach-my-last-class-today.html