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Monday, 17 March 2014

I'm sorry. I hate myself a little right now. You may be excused, you don't have to read this.

Forgive me, blog, for I have sinned: I have facebook stalked SmTn. I may or may not have an exam tomorrow. I didn't sleep very well last night because working in groups is just awful in that goodness forsaken university. In case there is an exam tomorrow, I bothered downloading the documents I should read to study. But, of course, I didn't read them. I played hashi. I didn't even play hashi properly. I toggled between checking numerous websites for updates (there were none) and playing hashi. And then I opened facebook and thought to type SmTn's name and... I clicked on it. I realised there were pictures of him visible now that were not visible when we first became facebook friends. Namely, pictures of him and the girlfriend. I'm not sure it's a coincidence they're all of a sudden visible... Then again, maybe I'm trying to make sense of that which makes none. I attempted to make sense of the comments on the pictures. I gawked at him and played "find SmTn" in the pictures where he wasn't obviously visible. However, I said I had sinned and facebook-stalking SmTn is not enough to constitute a proper sin. Not when I didn't do it for so long, at any rate. I think... The true sin was staring at the girlfriend and judging her, based on absolutely nothing. I had fuck all to go on, and I judged her looks. It's so low of me. I'm actually a little embarrassed. But I did it: I saw her and thought "she looks so old in that picture," "her make-up choices were not ideal there," and even *gasp* "I'm prettier than her, aren't I?" And that, right there, is the lowest of the low things one can think when comparing oneself to the girlfriend of the man you have feelings for. Don't question me. It doesn't matter if it's true or not, because that's not the fucking point. The point is that she's the bloody girlfriend and I'm the friend who was kept a secret for two and a half years and lives halfway across the world and what's a bloke to do? What's a gal to do in such a predicament? And why must it be that often enough that I can't focus on anything for five minutes straight, I remember that disgusting rubbing of thighs and just want to dig a hole and hide in it?

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