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| Subject: Jealousy | |
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Author: Judy |
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Date Posted: 22:50:45 04/22/05 Fri They are spatting over a guy. They are not the only ones who are jealous of one another tonight. It is everywhere, brought above the surface at the beginning of the In-Group. Usually, the molecules of this place climb ever-higher as the night wears on. Tonight, they are lower, flying in every direction, from our feet to just above our heads. As the room gets hotter, warmed by discomfort and exposure, they speed up, bouncing frenetically off us and the edges of our circle. In a way, I admire her. Her emotions are not pretty, but at least she speaks the truth when answering the question posed by Nicole about jealousy. Better than me. I am too chicken to reply sincerely. It is less the jealousy than its root that I am afraid of. I am terrified of saying the secrets I know everyone knows. I am afraid of the exposure and that I’ll look ridiculous. “They are all mad at me Judy,” says the guy they are fighting over. The In-Group is done and people are mingling, some lying on the floor, their bodies and emotions entangled. The two women are standing off to the side, throwing virtual darts at each other while a third attempts to mediate. One is slinking, her usually proud and beautiful shoulders slightly hunched. The other leans slightly forward, angry and self-righteous because this one has slept with her man. “I’m not mad,” I say and wrap my arms around him, pushing my body into his on the couch. At this moment, I’m quite grateful for our uncomplicated friendship. I feel a little left out and out of place tonight. Few are seeking me out. The usual people I count on are absent in some form. The easy conversation is comforting, like homemade soup when you don’t feel so well. We briefly let our gazes wander to the women. They look fierce and hurt, like they would scratch at each other’s eyes if given the option. It is hard to watch. Jealousy. Though I suffer from it like anyone else, I know the formula for the way out. There’s a simple trick. You have to connect with the person you’d otherwise like to push off a cliff. The discovery came a long time ago. A guy I liked, decided he liked another woman more than me. She appeared one day on the basketball court where he and I shot hoops and played pick-up with other graduate students. Before that day, the day she truly entered my life, I knew her, but not well. “What’s she doing here,” I immediately thought, viewing her from a distance, already alerted to the threat she posed by some invisible warning sign. I was rude. I did not talk to her while we played. I sent daggers in her direction whenever she caught the corner of my eye. Gradually, over years’ time, she and I warmed up to one other. Until finally, there came a point where we were friends-really good friends-and we both had dropped the guy. This overlap in men occurred twice more. She had a two-week fling with a guy who became my boyfriend of a year. Several years later, she moved to Oregon, and on a trip to visit her, I fell for another guy without knowing she had fooled around with him. I’ve decided that it makes perfect sense that women who like one another also like the same guys. The reverse is true too, I think: that women who fall for the same men would probably like each another if not for jealousy. At the In-Group tonight, I admit to an old jealousy, one that I am mostly over. Even so, I have been waiting to say it for months. I always liked her, but the thought of her used to make me squirm. I worried that the man I was seeing-her friend-loved and respected her more than me. I compared myself to her, envying the ways that she is free and I am not. All along, I knew that if we could connect, most, if not the entirety, of the feeling would dissolve. But at first it was too hard. And then I didn’t see her for awhile. My task is easier tonight because I am no longer seeing the guy. But still, there is a bit of magic that happens. After I make this admission, I rest my head on her knee. She runs her warm fingers through my hair, then around the nape of my neck and down my back. She has a luxurious touch and with it, she feeds me with love. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |