@"Critical"
Wong Ha Jung
The problem with him, Wong Ha Jung acknowledged, was that he waited too long and too much. There was a vague idea in his head that he could have been more, that things could have been better if he had done more than just wait around and react in time to others. But in a way, he supposed that he had already -metaphorically, maybe literally some day- gone and dug his own grave, and it was deep enough down that there wasn't much else for him to do besides lie in it.
At least he was still useful to some people. The optimism in that thought was desperate and single-mindedly naive. To be honest, part of him was surprised that there was any even left. But things were getting a bit better, surely. His emotions simply felt like they had flat lined. It was better than that other feeling of endlessly falling. So. Improvement.
It was like being in high school again.
Like he always did, Wong Ha Jung simply waited around. He shuffled the piles of papers around on his desk without really being able to focus on anything. Jacob said that he would be there that day, at some time. Soon. The two of them didn't speak too much but the counselor supposed that compared to his limited interactions with the rest of the staff, that was probably more frequently than usual anyways.
Briefly, he wondered what was so wrong that Jacob had actually sought him out. But if he left it to imagination, that just made him jittery again. No. Better not think on it until the other man could tell him himself.
Sighing, Wong Ha Jung glanced at the slush outside through the blinds. He really didn't like winter.
Wong Ha Jung
The problem with him, Wong Ha Jung acknowledged, was that he waited too long and too much. There was a vague idea in his head that he could have been more, that things could have been better if he had done more than just wait around and react in time to others. But in a way, he supposed that he had already -metaphorically, maybe literally some day- gone and dug his own grave, and it was deep enough down that there wasn't much else for him to do besides lie in it.
At least he was still useful to some people. The optimism in that thought was desperate and single-mindedly naive. To be honest, part of him was surprised that there was any even left. But things were getting a bit better, surely. His emotions simply felt like they had flat lined. It was better than that other feeling of endlessly falling. So. Improvement.
It was like being in high school again.
Like he always did, Wong Ha Jung simply waited around. He shuffled the piles of papers around on his desk without really being able to focus on anything. Jacob said that he would be there that day, at some time. Soon. The two of them didn't speak too much but the counselor supposed that compared to his limited interactions with the rest of the staff, that was probably more frequently than usual anyways.
Briefly, he wondered what was so wrong that Jacob had actually sought him out. But if he left it to imagination, that just made him jittery again. No. Better not think on it until the other man could tell him himself.
Sighing, Wong Ha Jung glanced at the slush outside through the blinds. He really didn't like winter.