I do not recall how the topic came to be Homestuck, as it is not exactly a subject that I actively pursue to discuss offline.
I stared at him for a moment and carefully pondered this seemingly reasonable request. Judging by the tone of the conversation up until now, he seemed to be genuinely curious and willing to read it. With that in mind, I wanted to avoid spoilers at all costs, but at the same time I wanted to provide an accurate explanation and intriguing enough summary that could at the very least somewhat begin to express just how in depth and interesting Homestuck really is.
I should be able to do this, I thought to myself. Yes. Yes, out of all people, I should be able to. I should. This is what I do. I write analyses in my free time. That is a thing. That is one of my things. I do this. Yes.
Still actively considering about how I could possibly accomplish this seemingly simple enough task, I realized that I had been staring at him for a while and quickly darted my eyes to the floor, then to the wall, and then to my mobile, which was patiently waiting for me on the table. To simply instruct him to read it would be rude.
This is difficult, said my non-existent inner voice which would likely have been announced to the audience with some sort of mysterious echo had this been in a movie or a scene from an extremely cheesy drama.
Wow, I was the worst possible person to ask this question. Really. Out of all the Homestucks in the world, out of the thousands and thousands of passionate fans out there that are patiently anticipating the day that they are granted the opportunity to answer such a question, he had to ask me. Me. Really, me. What great luck he has. Shit.
I do not know how much time had passed. My awkward silence was surely causing some sort of uncomfortable and unnerving atmosphere. He could not hear my inner monologue, to both of our benefits. Perhaps he thought I was ignoring him. Perhaps he thought I was thinking about something else. Perhaps he thought that I never actually knew anything about Homestuck. Perhaps he doubted that I ever even read it. Perhaps he thought I was judging him. No, I was in the exact same situation quite recently. Really, I was. I decided that I needed to say something. Anything. I needed to open my mouth. Sounds happen. I can make sounds. It is possible for me. I do that.
“It, uh…”, I finally stammered, forcing the words out, forcing myself to respond to his request.
“Some…kids…play a game…and…stuff happens. Oh, and the plot is really deep.”
Way to go, self.
The conversation ended shortly after, but I spent the next 10 minutes quietly reevaluating my life and wondering how I came to this shameful point of becoming so incredibly distressed from the inability to properly explain a webcomic.