{"sf1_id":1574858,"sf2_id":"Welqpokm","title":"Waiting for the Notification","author":"GhostGoat","words":741,"posted_at":"2020-05-05T02:41:00.000Z","tags":["Angst","Desperation","Friendship","No-Yiff","Short"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1574858-waiting-for-the-notification","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Welqpokm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/47/45/47458383-cf5a-4424-909e-ebc02fb269e9","description":"#9 of Studies, Vignettes, \u0026 Scraps\n\nI hope this is as uncomfortable to read as it was to write. \u003e:]","content":"He wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't just do nothing. To be sure, he _should_\u0026nbsp;do nothing, but it was beyond his capability to do.\n\nHe anxiously tapped his fingers in rhythmic succession against his desk, again and again.\n\nHe grabbed his mouse and flipped back to the chat window, knowing there would be nothing there but hoping he was wrong. He wasn't. He tabbed around to get the conversation off his screen and off his mind, as though that would help.\n\nA deep breath. One more.\n\nIt had been a while since he meditated. He _really_\u0026nbsp;needed to do that again. Not now; it wouldn't do any good now. But it would be handy to help avoid these moments in the first place. Maybe stop the chain of events that led to him waiting, staring, hoping that he didn't just push a dear friend too far.\n\nThere was hope once, he thought. There could be hope again. But that would probably only happen if he could learn to control himself. Stop obsessing. Get out and do something!\n\nHe had something to do already, of course. But it was work, and he tired of work. Even if he didn't it was hard to focus with his heart so twisted and hunched over. He knew he needed to attend to his job, but... he checked again. Still nothing.\n\nAh, what he would do for a fast-forward button. Just skip this evening and this week and this month and advance time. The computer would probably do a more serviceable job in simulation than he could in life anyway. Sure, he wouldn't get any of the big achievements or enjoy any of the sweet fruits of a moment well spent, but he'd be steady, calm, able to let time work its wonders on the hearts of people that tired of him. One person in particular.\n\nHe checked again. Still nothing.\n\nFuck it, let's go for a walk.\n\n_No, let's not go for a walk. We don't have time. We have work to do._\n\nWork that we're not doing anyway. He thought about checking again, but resisted. A small victory.\n\nHe thought about checking again, but resisted. Worrisome.\n\nHe raised an index finger sternly to an invisible phantom in front of him as if to say, no, you will not make us think of this again. It worked for a moment.\n\nAnother moment.\n\nMaybe there's a game or something we could play? Something to take the edge off?\n\n_Something to waste more time, you mean?_\n\nShut up.\n\n_This isn't getting us anywhere._\n\nNothing is getting us anywhere. This situation just--\n\n_It sucks, I know. I know, I know. But we can't..._\n\nThe thought trailed off, and in its place there was nothing. The vacuum persisted for a time before it filled again with self-pitying self-loathing. He just didn't know what to do. He was a grown-ass man sitting at his computer and feeling utterly lost because of a probably-inconsequential social faux pas. Possibly inconsequential, he corrected himself. Maybe more than a faux pas. His mental state was wobbly going into the evening and he was missing quite a bit _before_\u0026nbsp;he'd mouthed off to his friend. For all he knew, he'd sent them into an ignore-spiral. Or something. He didn't know.\n\nFuck it. He was going to send a message. A plea.\n\n\"Hey. I don't know if anything's happening, but my head is in a negative, paranoid, swirly place right now. I don't need to talk, but if you could drop me a word it'd help me re-center for the night.\"\n\nHe spent several minutes crafting those sentences, trying to be careful to show his need without seeming too _needy_.\u0026nbsp;They owed him this courtesy--they'd been through more than enough together--but it wasn't guaranteed thanks to the inconsistent nature of internet chat and the potential for spitefulness, and he knew it would feel like a boon to have it.\n\nHe stroked his mustache and waited. Then he got up to grab a drink.\n\nJust then, his phone buzzed with a notification. He immediately sat down and checked to see--was it a word?\n\n\"A word!\"\n\nHis heart instantly eased. \"You're the best. Thanks (:\"\n\nIt fixed nothing and it fixed everything. He could let the conversation be, now. He could let time pass without freaking out. He didn't need to let the simulation take over.\n\nBut he still had his fucking work. He got up to grab a drink.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Studies, Vignettes, \u0026amp; Scraps","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1506142-vignette-your-unfriendly-neighborhood-ghost-goat.json"}}