He'd known that it was stupid to say so much, to complain so much, when there were certainly people in the world who had it worse than he did, and when he had no idea what category Ned fell into in regards to his parents. All he knows is that Ned's mother is dead, and that Ned doesn't like to talk about it; he knows nothing about his father, and from the way Ned's responded, it's an uneasy topic, at best.
"Yeah, we can talk about something else. I didn't mean to..."
It doesn't matter what he meant to do, and he knows it. He'd been trying to distract Ned with meaningless complaints of his own life, in an attempt to draw Ned's focus away from his own problems, but he'd obviously gone too far, and it's just as obvious that his complaints have made Ned desperately unhappy. It doesn't take a genius to recognize that, from the response Ned's had, he must not have had a very good relationship with his father. Certainly, he hadn't experienced the problems that Ginsberg had, the overwhelming, almost suffocating caring, and of course, from another point of view, Ginsberg understands why it could be difficult to find that so upsetting.
There's a part of him that wants to reach out for Ned and full him close again, to apologize physically because he has no idea how to put an apology into words (he's never been good at that, he's always been clumsy, even when he knows full well that he's been the one to cause offense) but he doesn't. He thinks Ned would likely pull away from him now. All he knows is that he's plagued with guilt, and that guilt is one of his least favorite feelings.
He fights back frustration, too, because the last thing he wants is to be frustrated at Ned, who's having a bad day anyway, and settles for what he thinks is a fairly inoffensive, "I'm sorry. What would you prefer to talk about?" Nobody could have a problem with that sentence, could they? It's so bland as to be completely devoid of expression.
no subject
He'd known that it was stupid to say so much, to complain so much, when there were certainly people in the world who had it worse than he did, and when he had no idea what category Ned fell into in regards to his parents. All he knows is that Ned's mother is dead, and that Ned doesn't like to talk about it; he knows nothing about his father, and from the way Ned's responded, it's an uneasy topic, at best.
"Yeah, we can talk about something else. I didn't mean to..."
It doesn't matter what he meant to do, and he knows it. He'd been trying to distract Ned with meaningless complaints of his own life, in an attempt to draw Ned's focus away from his own problems, but he'd obviously gone too far, and it's just as obvious that his complaints have made Ned desperately unhappy. It doesn't take a genius to recognize that, from the response Ned's had, he must not have had a very good relationship with his father. Certainly, he hadn't experienced the problems that Ginsberg had, the overwhelming, almost suffocating caring, and of course, from another point of view, Ginsberg understands why it could be difficult to find that so upsetting.
There's a part of him that wants to reach out for Ned and full him close again, to apologize physically because he has no idea how to put an apology into words (he's never been good at that, he's always been clumsy, even when he knows full well that he's been the one to cause offense) but he doesn't. He thinks Ned would likely pull away from him now. All he knows is that he's plagued with guilt, and that guilt is one of his least favorite feelings.
He fights back frustration, too, because the last thing he wants is to be frustrated at Ned, who's having a bad day anyway, and settles for what he thinks is a fairly inoffensive, "I'm sorry. What would you prefer to talk about?" Nobody could have a problem with that sentence, could they? It's so bland as to be completely devoid of expression.