It's 2AM. You have been trying to get some sleep since midnight, to no avail. Why's that? Because you're too busy remembering all the weird, cringey social interactions you've had since you've entered pre-school. Remember when you didn't make it to the bathroom in time during first grade? Well, you'll always remember that. Every single night. For the rest of your existence.
--//--
I just had one of those. Yesterday I made a rhetorical question to this friend of mine. I didn't think much about it, I was just trying to talk for a bit. He didn't answer (as I wouldn't have). And I didn't care.
Fast forward a hours later. I reread the conversation and got fixated on that question. Suddenly, getting an answer to that question became the crux of my existence. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I started getting anxious about it. I tried to convince myself that was a fucking stupid reason for someone to get anxious over, but it didn't matter. I just kept getting more and more anxious over it. 12 hours later and just thinking about it made me feel short of breath. So I made something that I know would be stupid. I asked him about it.
(at this point, if you're thinking that I blew the situation way out of proportion, you're right. There wasn't even a situation to begin with. I knew that.)
He didn't answer. That didn't help my anxiety. At all. So I did what I thought I had to do: I kept asking. Eventually, he answered. With memes. The only reasonable way to answer to an idiot who's bothering to get an answer to a fucking rhetorical question.
That's when I fucked up even more (if that's humanly possible): I begged him to just make up some answer and get it over with.
He did. I awkwardly apologized. He said don't worry about it. And I won't be able to talk to him for a long, long time.
But I got an answer, and that made me somewhat relieved. Although I only got it after creating and going through the most stupid, awkward, unreasonable conversation one can imagine.
This one will haunt me this night and for a whole lot of nights.
--//--
I just had one of those. Yesterday I made a rhetorical question to this friend of mine. I didn't think much about it, I was just trying to talk for a bit. He didn't answer (as I wouldn't have). And I didn't care.
Fast forward a hours later. I reread the conversation and got fixated on that question. Suddenly, getting an answer to that question became the crux of my existence. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I started getting anxious about it. I tried to convince myself that was a fucking stupid reason for someone to get anxious over, but it didn't matter. I just kept getting more and more anxious over it. 12 hours later and just thinking about it made me feel short of breath. So I made something that I know would be stupid. I asked him about it.
(at this point, if you're thinking that I blew the situation way out of proportion, you're right. There wasn't even a situation to begin with. I knew that.)
He didn't answer. That didn't help my anxiety. At all. So I did what I thought I had to do: I kept asking. Eventually, he answered. With memes. The only reasonable way to answer to an idiot who's bothering to get an answer to a fucking rhetorical question.
That's when I fucked up even more (if that's humanly possible): I begged him to just make up some answer and get it over with.
He did. I awkwardly apologized. He said don't worry about it. And I won't be able to talk to him for a long, long time.
But I got an answer, and that made me somewhat relieved. Although I only got it after creating and going through the most stupid, awkward, unreasonable conversation one can imagine.
This one will haunt me this night and for a whole lot of nights.
