Friendship, sickness and pointless drabble.
The last four or so days I've been in bed, nearly all day, sleeping away this horrible cold. Thankfully I'm feeling a bit better, but I won't be going to band practice tonight as that will surely give me a headache. *shudder*
I've been having really deep conversations with a friend of mine. The conversations tend to be about his life, his thoughts, those types of things. I'm going to admit something - I can't, under any circumstances, - whether it be purposely or not - comfort a grown man who's crying. There's something inside of me that says it's awkward and I shouldn't even try. I like scripted feelings, knowing what's right to say and what isn't, I don't like connecting to this unknown place in myself that's forced out by those around me. He cried and I sat there. Something isn't right with that.
I've been trying to understand why people vent their problems to me, why I'm somehow really easy to talk to... I barely say anything as it is, and they expect advice? My life is screwed up just as much as theirs is.
It needs to rain...
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