podeam

clinical cynicism

In the seven hours of conversation with a Friend (whom, aside from being one of the mostest fantabulous people I know, turned into a ripped stud in the months I’ve not met him), my being a detached clinical bastard came up a few times. I distinctly remember saying that I’m not a caring soul; just a Human Resource Officer trying to make sure staff morale doesn’t affect the company.

I take that all back.

Now confronted by someone’s problems, I feel helpless. I want to take that person under my wings and make his problems go away, but I can do little more than “oh dear”s and “ah”s over the phone, and offering him company on days out.

And it hurts. The pricking of my heart and eyes and every other cursed thing just reeks.

Damn it. I do have a heart, it seems.

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