I’m getting better at this. Coping with others. Dealing with their uniqueness, their dreams and desires, their narrow-mindedness. Coping with my jealousy toward them. And I am. I am jealous. I have to admit it, I am.
One person in particular has really gotten under my skin in the last 4 months or so. It’s a long time to be pestered by a nuisance. It’s the wallflower. She’s a wallflower because there is no substance to her. She’s shallow, nice to look at, nice to talk to, but there’s nothing there. It’s an empty shell of materialism and positivity…so shallow in fact that it’s completely non-contradictory.
Today I asked myself how it all worked. How can she feel the way she feels? How can she behave the way she does? And then it hit me. She’s oblivious. Innocently oblivious. I realized this when I was talking to her at lunch today and she told me what college she went to. A college that costs an arm and a leg. A college that screams, “rich kid alert”, displays that while she does have skills, those skills come from being coddled and babied and protected from the big bad real world. From honest humans, the ones that scowl and grimace and try to hurt you every chance they get.
No. I know some other things about her as well. She grew up rich. Family. Siblings. Parents. Grandparents. Surrounded by warmth, she was launched into the world with a healthy mind and so many hands supporting her. This doesn’t change that she’s a wallflower. A high functioning one maybe, but fragile, delicate, someone that might as well be an object, can’t do anything by herself.
A wallflower is never alone. She’s surrounded by admirers, gardeners, painters, other flowers, etc. She stays in her little garden or mural or what have you. But take a wallflower out of her vicinity and she’s nothing. Trash. The high functioning facade fades away, and let’s in despair. Comforting despair. How I cherish that feeling, the one thing that separates us.
Because yes, I’m jealous. She’s got it all. She’s smarter then me. She’s prettier then me. Her social skills are better than mine. She went to a slightly better uni then me. But I have the despair. I have the story. I have the broken heritage, the struggles, the poor family, the demons. Occasionally I was supported by partners, and I won’t forget them…but for the most part I struggled alone. I made mistakes. I made a system. I went and read books, and tested myself, while she was pampered, spoon-fed success, and taught to be the best on paper. Just thinking about it is sickening. I’m sick. Sick with hate, with jealousy…sick of her.
I can’t compete with her. She’s got “friends”, allies that she’s won over just by being herself. Allies that will prop her up. But that in and of itself will make her weaker. It has to be the case. I know it, I’ve been propped up before. I know how it is when those props disappear. I am convinced that I am sharper. That I am better. That I am the one with more skills, even though it doesn’t show yet.
Again. I have the story. I have the system. I’ve made it this far with a system and an attitude. Nothing more then that. I’m confident that this annoyance will go away, that she will fall, that her fragile worldview will crumble. It has to crumble.
Hopefully I won’t be there to see it. Hopefully the annoyance will disappear. She can take her worldview and her fragile positivity and fk off somewhere else.