And here we go, "Hello, floor. Have you met my knees?"
Once again (this seemed to happen regularly), Sam attempted to explain his feelings and what came out managed to be said and interpreted in the worst way possible: did he have a talent for putting things terribly? He certainly never meant to hurt Zeph and when he heard the questions, the reactions, he realised what he'd said and how it sounded: not what he had meant at all.
How on Caido did people correctly organise their thoughts in a way that didn't make everything worse?
"No, no. I'm sorry...I'm awful at explaining myself. I don't mean...not like that." He lowered his head into his hands, sighing and trying to think of rephrasing. "I jumble up a lot of thoughts at once and they come out wrong. Let me start again, please."
This was why he'd wanted to shut this down early: Sam could already feel the panic of oh is this where I lose him, is this where I lose this friendship, am I going to be alone again bubbling up, the ever-present overreacting anxiety that had been his companion for years. "You have cared for me and made me feel special in a way that no one else has ever done. What you said to me, when we were out in the ocean that night? It made me...I felt it mend something inside me, Zeph. Please..don't think I haven't noticed. What I meant was...I've always craved..you know, romantic care. The kind that comes with desire and partnership..that stuff."
He dared to glance up, hoping that he might be explaining himself a little better this time. "You have treated me better than anyone else I've known and I don't...I'm sorry it sounded like I didn't think that. You are not a means to an end." The very phrasing of it made him feel vaguely nauseous. "I just...I'm just trying to be honest with myself, and you, that a part of why I want to..you know...do anything...well, a lot of it is because you're great and um, attractive--" Sam laughed awkwardly, uncomfortably, down at the floor. "--But a little bit of it is just that I'm not used to people treating me like...well, like an equal. Like a friend. And I just want to..make you everything to me, which isn't healthy, I know..."
Feeling like he'd rambled for far too long now, Sam trailed off, shrugging, occasionally looking up to see if he'd made any improvements on how he had sounded.
How on Caido did people correctly organise their thoughts in a way that didn't make everything worse?
"No, no. I'm sorry...I'm awful at explaining myself. I don't mean...not like that." He lowered his head into his hands, sighing and trying to think of rephrasing. "I jumble up a lot of thoughts at once and they come out wrong. Let me start again, please."
This was why he'd wanted to shut this down early: Sam could already feel the panic of oh is this where I lose him, is this where I lose this friendship, am I going to be alone again bubbling up, the ever-present overreacting anxiety that had been his companion for years. "You have cared for me and made me feel special in a way that no one else has ever done. What you said to me, when we were out in the ocean that night? It made me...I felt it mend something inside me, Zeph. Please..don't think I haven't noticed. What I meant was...I've always craved..you know, romantic care. The kind that comes with desire and partnership..that stuff."
He dared to glance up, hoping that he might be explaining himself a little better this time. "You have treated me better than anyone else I've known and I don't...I'm sorry it sounded like I didn't think that. You are not a means to an end." The very phrasing of it made him feel vaguely nauseous. "I just...I'm just trying to be honest with myself, and you, that a part of why I want to..you know...do anything...well, a lot of it is because you're great and um, attractive--" Sam laughed awkwardly, uncomfortably, down at the floor. "--But a little bit of it is just that I'm not used to people treating me like...well, like an equal. Like a friend. And I just want to..make you everything to me, which isn't healthy, I know..."
Feeling like he'd rambled for far too long now, Sam trailed off, shrugging, occasionally looking up to see if he'd made any improvements on how he had sounded.
SAMUEL
