“Umm, I think you should know this… it’s really hard for me to say this because I’m his friend and also his roommate, but I just don’t think it’s right. And you have the right to know.”
“It’s hard to have a conversation when neither side feels listened to. He feels insecure and seeks out comfort from you, and you may see his complaint as a personal judgment, so you defend yourself.”
“Actually, she’s told me numerous times on the phone that she doesn’t want me to end up like her, wasting her youth away… but I’d rather be cheap to myself and let her have the best of everything, or else I feel guilty.”
“I’ve never told anyone about this other than my mom. Well, she found out by herself… but maybe I can trust you?” I can’t imagine the pain. The truth is we don’t know nearly as much as we think we do. Open the dialogue.
“No, she has to go to her father’s house. Her father and mother don’t live together. Her father lives with his girlfriend.” *still the same cheerful mood as if she was talking about her favourite cartoon*
Gradually, the conversations became deeper and more meaningful. The topics range from “Was that potato salad in your Snapchat?” to “I’m worried about you seeking more views and likes. I want you to enjoy writing for the sheer fun you get out of it.”
Growing up in an Asian household, the attitude towards relationships have always been hush-hush. They don’t ask; I don’t tell. If necessary, they refer to him as a friend. Perhaps their parents also did not talk about it.
“If it wasn’t for my children, I wouldn’t still be married. I advise you young people not to get married. It’d be the mistake of your life. People change.”