I hate fighting with people. I really, really, really do. My roommate-we'll give him Slate (a grayish/blue colour)-has been fighting with me all day. Picking a fight, actually. I just kind of wish that I wasn't the only one who's the way I am. I would do anything for my friends-and I mean, ANYthing. I would go into debt for them, I would comfort them when they called me at four in the morning, I would buy them any and everything they wanted, I would commiserate with them and agree with them when they were down, I would support them until they were eighty if they needed me to. But here I am, fallen, broken, battered, bruised, and scarred-both literally and figuratively-and he holds less than three months against me? I'm sorry, I didn't choose this. In fact, if anyone made any choice here, it was HIM. He invited me and I didn't have any place else to go. There's not a lot I can do here, especially when he's not helping. He's not exactly HINDERING, but he DOES begrudge me pretty much everything. Even an opinion. I mention that I like a car or wish to see a movie and he acts like I expect him to buy it for me or take me there. Dammit, this situation sucks. Ass.
Laters