A part of me is itching to say something, and then there's a part of me which prefers to shut up and look on.
I don't know when I stopped being confrontational. It might be that time a long-time friend called me a bitch for speaking plainly, or it might be the countless of other times well-intentioned advice went unheeded and unappreciated. I am also a great one for ignoring my own advice, particularly when it comes to relationships.
I've been told that she will have to find out the hard way; that she won't listen anyways, so why say anything at all. And of course I know that's highly plausible. Apart from sounding like the killjoy if I were to speak, I also have to deal with the seeming hypocrisy.
Because it'll never look like the advice was the benefit of hindsight. Not when she is in too deep and yet thinks herself immune and smart enough to muster the circumstances. And think them unique.
The tussle between the conscience and the mind is always something of a pain. If only I didn't prize her friendship (and approval of me) so highly - I might then have the guts to look her in the eye and tell her she's starting to look a wee bit desperate to the rest of us. Because I'm sure I looked that way at some stage, to her.
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