The scarlet notebook
Perhaps, a part of me wished that Philip had found out my relationship with Peter.
I wished I had hurt his indifference, torn it to shreds and responded to his incessant offensive statements – he used to say I was worthless – by acting concretely in order to see just an emotion affecting him.
Thinking about what I was doing was making me sick. I acknowledged that I was a double-dealer, but now, in my view, I could not help seeking a little appreciation.
With a bitter smile upon my face, I remembered when I took my father to parent-teacher conferences and, after hearing them singing my praises, he did not fail to suggest that they asked me for more. I justified my embarrassment about and my disappointment at never being appreciated by convincing myself that, in so d
