the Ether Bunny (ninjalicious) wrote,
the Ether Bunny
ninjalicious

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Full of ill humours.

I feel sick to my stomach. Ill. Perhaps there's something hanging around in my stomach that I have to vomit up. I can't help but suspect it has some correlation to the number of times I shouted "Of course he's upset, of course he doesn't want you to talk to her, he's known her for 7 years and been in love with her for many of them, just because she turns him down doesn't mean you get to just ask her out right in front of his face when you hardly know her, and the only reason you know her is through him! There's a million fucking girls out there, can't you go after one of the 99 thousand and so that your roomate isn't in love with? Because that's just fucking rude, and I can't believe you're explaining this to me as if you don't see that." last night, which was zero times. Compared to the number of times I wanted to say it, which was about once every five minutes for 2 hours. I thought I was substituting well enough, trying to stress the reasonability of the roomate's emotions, not trying to point in any direction action-wise but attempting to illuminate the choice aspect. The "just understand your roomate's feelings are legit too" angle. And then, WHAMMO, "so you're saying I shouldn't call or email her then.", and I folded faster than Superman on laundry day. Spouting plans and deviousness. Behind the roomate's back this, and don't ask him that.

Because quite frankly, I could not say, "Just don't go after her." I could think it a million times, scream it in my head until I'm blue in the brain, but I couldn't say it.
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