After accepting that the impulses and flashes of thought wouldn't go away, it became easier again. It started feeling more natural. I became relaxed.

Then I heard heavy footfalls, followed by a soft moaning. Something ran past the door, too fast to hear. I would have left it as just another drunk student but this felt different.

I stood up from my chair, walked out into the hall. Moving down the narrow corridor I heard an occasional muffle. Behind me it came, from the room of my friend the math major. I ducked into the tv lounge before he could see me. From outside I heard him thump against the wall, take a drink of water, then ceaselessly move back and forth into objects. He was in immense pain, I could feel it keenly. The cries and bawling whispers dismissed everything else in me. He feld back into his room. I had to follow, I had to ask, there was nothing else I could have done.

He has an honors math exam that starts tomorrow and does not end until sometime friday. Three days for six problems. The test is written by a visiting math professor. It's followed by an oral examination that lasts all day. It's expected he'll get 4 out of the 6 if he's lucky. I just sat there and listened to all of this, exaggerating facial expressions to give him pause or try to emphasize the sympathy I felt. His eyes cleared up quickly as I asked about other things, or about his actual honors research. He still felt bad but there was someone else to help show him it was ok. Heh, better yet, there was someone to tell him to go to bed and get some rest.

I didn't do what I told myself...and it doesn't matter in the least to me. Most people would have done what I did, had they known the person...but that doesn't dismiss how willing I was to make sure he was alright and saw another perspective about things.

It makes me question whether I can put work first.....and I can't, not when it truly matters. I want to disbelieve, call this among other times just weird emergencies...but they aren't that. Pathetic as it might sound I'm genuinely sad for myself, even if I'm glad he's sleeping now and feeling better.

I did what was right, I did what you or any slightly humane person would have done. So then what happens when I have to choose between people I love and work? It'll happen eventually. I don't want to think about it, I'm going to bed.

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