I
remember once, some years ago, I was at this party on a lake. The details are a
little fuzzy, to be honest. For my own personal reasons, I have blocked out the
majority of those years but I want to say that it was a birthday party. (Or
maybe it was a going away party.) I just remember that it was definitely on a
lake or the beach. (Or maybe it was someone’s backyard that lived on the water.)
I don’t really remember, truthfully, but I was definitely there and I was
wearing this great blazer my mom bought me when I started participating in Teen
Court.
But
whatever, because the details aren’t even important. What is important is that the
man I attended this aforementioned party with wasn’t exactly sweet on me. On
the contrary, actually. It has taken actual years and it literally, literally
pains me to say this but I don’t think that he ever really loved me. He had
feelings for someone else. And I don’t mean that as an insult to him, necessarily.
It’s just a fact and listen- it is what it is.
The
truth is that it has always been about her.
Without even trying, she had this grasp on his heart that I could never shake.
She was this pretty little succubus, sucking the life out of whatever might
have existed between us.
But
what is really important about this, what I can to this day remember, is that I
was the bait the entire night. Maybe I realized it on some level but refused to
recognize it. I tried that entire night to emanate happiness and confidence. I
wanted to be dazzling and radiant, relaxed and uncaring because despite what it
looked like, the one person at that party that my boyfriend cared about was
her. And I tried so hard to appear
unmoved by their little show.
Although
on some level, I think everyone already knew better. My façade, while well-rehearsed
was fairly translucent.
He that is jealous is not in
love. –Saint Augustine
Listen,
I come from a long, long line of natural born (and still classically trained)
musicians and I have always felt that songs can far better express the things
that I mean to say. Those things that sound so perfect when I say them in my
head come out all jumbled once I open my mouth. And as a child prodigy born to
parents in their forties, I have always had a really eclectic taste in music.
(In fact, I am currently listening to Frank Sinatra radio on Pandora…) Anyway,
it’s probably really warped but I always thought if my ex-boyfriend and this
other lady had a song, it would be Willie Nelson’s Always on My Mind. Read the lyrics; you’ll totally see what I mean.
Back
to the story: that entire night, she would move from place to place and like
clockwork, we would follow her. I’m not quite sure what the point was other
than giving everyone involved severe anxiety. Maybe he just wanted to be close
to her or maybe he was trying to make her jealous by having me there. Either
way, I don’t believe either objective was accomplished. He looked incredibly
pathetic for incessantly following her around and I looked even worse because
obviously, the joke was on me. I clearly
wasn’t the only broad in the place. I was the woman who had left her family,
her job, and her college education to sleep on the floor in this idiot’s
bedroom!
I
can never forgive myself for all of that, not to mention the numerous traumatic
events that subsequently transpired. Drinking helps.
The
thing is, what I could never understand about any of this is that he would have
given up a kidney if it meant he could see her cry in jealous rage. And to some
degree, although I always attempted to play it cool, I think he felt the same
way about me. Although he probably would have given up a much lesser organ for
me. It certainly wouldn’t have been something vital like a kidney. It would be
something he could live without, probably more along the lines of an appendix
or a gallbladder…
I
felt like anything we ever did, any date we ever went on, any party he ever
dragged me to, it was for her. He wanted to hurt her, infuriate her, and remind
her how seemingly great he was. (She was a
lot smarter than he apparently gave her credit for.) It was a show in her
honor and I was his guest star. To be painfully honest, I think he wanted all
that chaos and conflict. He got off on us fighting over him.
And
what’s weird is whenever she wasn’t around, he resorted back to treating me
like garbage because there was no one to watch our show. He had no one to
impress and I bore the brunt of his frustration.
The jealous are troublesome
to others, but a torment to themselves. –William Penn
I
had this friend who was really close to this group of boys. One of them, she
had even claimed to love. And it wasn’t love in the friendly sense of the word.
It was serious; she was in love with him.
But
they had been friends for years and she didn’t want to ruin it. He also had a fairly
serious girlfriend and she wasn’t even one of those girlfriends you could hate.
She was beautiful, smart, and supportive. She was always doing everything she
could to make my friend feel welcome because she knew how important it was to
her boyfriend. But this wasn’t always the case, friends.
You
see, like most of us, this boy had an absolutely dreadful ex-girlfriend. She
was a money hungry cleat chaser, allegedly only after men for the money and prominence.
She was a trifling instigator and always made a habit of getting into arguments
(and even sometimes, physical altercations) with my friend.
This
washed up ex-girlfriend and my friend hadn’t gotten along since the beginning.
Partly, and primarily, because of her psychotic behavior and partly because this
ex-girlfriend was never okay being one of two broads in the room. My friend was
a very big threat to her and unlike yours truly, who hid behind a mask of
happiness and just dug her head in the sand, this woman acted erratically in
hopes of frightening my friend into submission. But she definitely should have
known better. Strong willed women, Cuban ones, especially, don’t give up so
easily. I think you guess which one is no longer in the picture.
Being with an insanely
jealous person is like being in the room with a dead mammoth. –Mike Nichols
I
have another friend currently in a very similar situation. She is in love with
an unhappily married man. Not to discredit him but he is incredibly wishy-washy.
One minute, he loves her and promises to leave his bitter, uncaring wife. The
next, he is unsure and unwilling to make any ostensibly rash decisions.
But
a recurring problem between the two of them is jealousy. They are both ridiculously,
insanely jealous about whatever the other person engages in. They are both so
unwilling to admit this profound jealously that it is almost laughable. I mean,
it’s disgustingly obvious. It’s written all over their faces, not to mention
their Facebook statuses.
What
I notice a lot with this particular friend is her absolutely insatiable need to
get his attention. And since they need to be careful in which ways they
communicate, it is almost always via a social networking system. Something as
simple as a weather update can turn into a jealous war and then she’ll say to
me, “Oh, that status isn’t about him. I don’t even care what he does…”
It’s
like they have this craving to bait each other. It’s like it’s the only way to
get the other one’s attention. This jealousy makes them somehow feel wanted and
suddenly, they are the only broad in the
room. It is a crazy, vicious cycle, the way they torture themselves.
Moral
of the Crazy: The thing is I still feel the sting of being second best, of not
being good enough. I get uncomfortable when I come to the realization that he
was probably just using me to get to her. I shudder to think I was just a pawn
in his game, just a classy tool he used to make her jealous. But then I
remember: He loved her. He was just going through the motions with me because it
was the only way he could get to her. It was the only way to get her eyes on
him.
He
wanted her to go crazy. He wanted her to be a head case. It’s what got him out
of bed in the morning.
But
when you are constantly bidding for attention like some sort of histrionic man
child, what kind of relationship do you have? What kind of quality exists if
you have to hurt someone in order for them to pay attention to you? Why would
you want to go to all that trouble for someone who clearly doesn’t care that
much about you? I mean, that just doesn’t seem genuine to me. Why not just skip
a step and check the person you love into a mental institution? It just seems a
lot more practical. More considerate, you know?
I
have this theory that social networking systems have ruined us. To be honest,
Facebook gives me anxiety with all its judgmental notifications begging to be
acknowledged and the likelihood that my ex-boyfriend’s mom will see a picture
of me because we have a few mutual friends. I mean, let’s be honest: the
majority of the reason that people update statuses and post pictures is to
remind other people how great they’re doing. (Because obviously it didn’t happen unless it’s on Facebook.) So their exes
and frenemies can see how happy they are, how many kids they have, and what
cute clothes their wearing. Too much social attention is paid to us now and we
have images to maintain.
I
guess I just feel like attention is not something that you should have to earn
or fight for. It’s something that should just be given when you sincerely care
about someone. No games, no bait and switch, no façades built with the
intention to hurt someone. Just two people who don’t even have to work that
hard because it’s obvious how the person sitting next to them feels.
I
have been on a diet every day since I was fourteen and spoiler alert: A, it
sucks and B, it’s something the Italians don’t necessarily believe in. I
remember when I was a teenager, my grandfather said to me, and I remember this
like it happened yesterday: Eat what you
want, kid. Let God take care of the rest. This from a man who dipped
cookies in his coffee for as long as I could remember and yet somehow, still
stayed very thin.
But
what if life was just like that? Just do what you want, say what you feel, and
let what is supposed to happen, happen. No jealousy or regrets, and no chasing
your ex around at a party on the lake. (Now that I really think about it, I’m
pretty positive it was on a lake.) None of that.
Listen:
Tell her that you love her. Tell her that you need her. Tell her that you want
her to stay.
And
let God take care of the rest.
You can be the moon and
still be jealous of the stars. –Gary Allan
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