I always end up being worried about the wrong person.

Had an argument with a friend last night. Not my best friend, but the only other person I even half-trust. They think we're best friends but they've shown me repeatedly that my emotions are not welcome. That no matter how I package them, they will become frustrated, because no matter how many times I say that they're not expected to fix the issue, I just wanted them to listen, they still always take it upon themselves to "fix" the issue. It never helps. I've told them they don't need to do that. It makes me nauseous because it reminds me of arguing with my mom. My emotionally abusive, untreated BPD, mom. I get four words into a sentence, they assume what I'm going to say, interrupt me, and scold me like a child. Then once they've got me to where I've completely shut down, they try to soothe me for their own gain, pat my back, hug me, ask if I want to come over for tea. It's insulting. I barely fight back. I just said I wanted to be alone with my cat. I got back to my apartment and cried there. My roommate/best friend heard and comforted me in a way that felt actually real.
A lot of the argument was over the State Fair. My best friend couldn't go, and this other friend kept saying "Well, it's not really my thing, and you know I'm worried about money, but yeah I'm still down to go." Every. Single. Time. it got brought up, it was "Well I would never go otherwise, but sure." They've said over and over it's not their scene. So in the end when my best friend couldn't go, without my anchor, I felt that I shouldn't make my other friend go along. We'll do other stuff together where I won't have to fear about a bad attitude spoiling it. They got mad because they know it's important to me, it's my last year living in Texas for a while and I'd never been, I've always wanted to. Why mad? Because I... backed off? Sure, they never said no, they made that incredibly clear, but... they didn't want to go. Like, they just didn't.
Now I'm in my philosophy of poetry class and yet again I just feel slightly off-step with everyone else. When I came in, some classmates were talking lovingly about how the professor goes so in depth on things like punctuation, why it's important a comma was there. I feel like during a lot of that, we're losing the forest for the trees. They talked about the artistic "madness" of Paul Celan. To me he's just a highly intelligent victim of the holocaust and survivior's guilt. Is that just another way of saying "madness?" maybe, but I don't know. To me, madness implies a playfulness with reality. I think Celan is very grounded in reality.

Man, now I'm just getting tired. I don't want to do today.