No, no, no. Thinking like that doesn't work. It just screws you over.
[Something about this whole situation is really familiar. Why is this so familiar?]
You can't take a responsibility like that on yourself. It doesn't even make sense.
[In fact, he's pretty sure he's had conversations like this before, but nothing immediately springs to mind. The elusive sensation is almost as irritating as the elusive words.]
Augh.
[Which might be why frustration finally starts to bite his voice.]
Dammit, no. Wait, wait, hold on. I know what this sounds like. It probably sounds like I'm getting mad at you? I'm not. I'm the opposite of mad at you. Or maybe not the opposite since the opposite of mad is happy or calm or something, I--oh God, no. I'm not doing this. What am I even talking about? Jesus Christ. I don't know what I'm trying to say. What the fuck is my problem? It's not like this should be hard!
[It was a good run though. A whole two minutes without becoming impossibly moody!]
Look, I'm done. I'm not talking about this anymore. Just don't do anything that might help that asshole use you. I don't even care about the consequences. I don't know you; I don't know what you can do; and I don't care about that either. The thing is: you're not some inanimate object specifically crafted for this guy's use whenever the hell he wants, which is obviously what he wants from you! I mean, fuck. What a douche.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
If he was up to any kind of good, he'd have told you it wasn't your fucking fault.
no subject
oh look, a text message.
no subject
no subject
[HYPOCRISY HYPOCRISY sorry Laura, all of this was probably spoken without much breathing room.]
[Something about this whole situation is really familiar. Why is this so familiar?]
You can't take a responsibility like that on yourself. It doesn't even make sense.
[In fact, he's pretty sure he's had conversations like this before, but nothing immediately springs to mind. The elusive sensation is almost as irritating as the elusive words.]
Augh.
[Which might be why frustration finally starts to bite his voice.]
Dammit, no. Wait, wait, hold on. I know what this sounds like. It probably sounds like I'm getting mad at you? I'm not. I'm the opposite of mad at you. Or maybe not the opposite since the opposite of mad is happy or calm or something, I--oh God, no. I'm not doing this. What am I even talking about? Jesus Christ. I don't know what I'm trying to say. What the fuck is my problem? It's not like this should be hard!
[It was a good run though. A whole two minutes without becoming impossibly moody!]
Look, I'm done. I'm not talking about this anymore. Just don't do anything that might help that asshole use you. I don't even care about the consequences. I don't know you; I don't know what you can do; and I don't care about that either. The thing is: you're not some inanimate object specifically crafted for this guy's use whenever the hell he wants, which is obviously what he wants from you! I mean, fuck. What a douche.