I think my brain just died out on me.
What’s left of it anyway.
…And it had to happen when I was talking to someone important about something important. And the internet just had to act up. By the time it went back to normal, that person was offline already. It was so asdfjkl;!!
Hormonal teenager moment. Forgive me.
Here’s something that might help it make more sense.
I went online on facebook chat a while ago, something I don’t usually do since I dodge a lot of people there. Two seconds later, a chatbox popped up. I didn’t know whether to grin — we hadn’t talked to each other properly in over three months — or to groan — as my brain refused to cooperate tonight in doing anything.
So I am so screwed for my quizzes. Because usually, when that person initiates a conversation, it’s because of stress, stress, and STRESS. Breakups, failing subjects, depression, wanting to do something but can’t, problems relating to academics and direction in life — anything short of people dying, I’ve probably heard from that person.
It was never really an outpouring of sorrows and regrets; there was no crying, and the closest we ever came to a real catharsis was putting “haha” or “:(” in our replies.
That might be giving you a hint regarding that person’s gender. All the same, it was a way for that person to release whatever pent up frustrations were bursting to get out. In short, I am that person’s stress ball.
It was an arrangement that wasn’t really done on purpose or acknowledged until I noticed that it had become a habit of his and told him so.
There. I got fed up with saying “that person this” and “that person that”. Suck it up, dude. It’s not like I’m deliberately trampling on your pride by telling people you’re a guy seeking out a girl to talk to when you’re stressed. I guess to prevent me from thinking something along the lines of utilitarianism, he started texting me at random times too. Not that those times got more than a maximum of nine replies from either of us, but the effort was appreciated. Unfortunately, the need to talk to me and actually have a decent conversation seems to be subconscious.
Case point: he was stressing about something academic-related a while ago.
I knew this the moment the chatbox opened, hinted at it when he asked me to “tell him a story”
because apparently, my “stories” distract him enough for him to recover from whatever it was he was stressing about , and confirmed it when he “casually” mentioned he had an exam tomorrow. Just as I was going to give my dormant brain a good kick to get my distraction mode gears going, something absolutely horrifying not to mention utterly annoying and frustrating happened.
The internet went wonky.
I couldn’t load pages, couldn’t receive PMs, couldn’t even open the bloody message in another tab. It took fifteen minutes before it went back to normal, but when it did, he was already offline.
I feel like such a failure. This is the first time I’ve failed to be his stress ball and it’s stressing me out.
Because ya know, I can’t really stand not putting all of my resources into something until I finish it and finish it well. Except perhaps fanfiction.
What to do now? …Hmm, I guess I better go stress over this to my best friend. It’s making me feel so guilty,
it actually makes me think I have an existing conscience.
And if my Bryan even hints at me liking that guy, I am so going to strangle him. When we finally see each other. I hope that’d be sometime soon.