anhedonia

"There’s a club if you’d like to go
you could meet somebody who really loves you
so you go, and you stand on your own
and you leave on your own
and you go home, and you cry
and you want to die…"
-The Smiths, How Soon is Now?

Last Thursday, I was a fill-in assistant supervisor at work, which basically meant I did everything I usually do but I had to answer pages from co-workers and I wasn’t stuck in my usual department.  I didn’t mind because I was able to float around and talk to people and move along to a different area when I got bored enough.

I went to straighten in Hipster Douche’s (HD) department when he came up to me and asked me about the situation with single black male (SBM).  I told him I thought things were finally over and he grinned and said he felt guilty for not giving me a thorough enough warning about him. 

"I felt kind of bad but I also got a sick sense of satisfaction from it," he admitted.  Okay, thanks?

I described those last heated text messages SBM and I exchanged and HD told me about how he and SBM got involved.  They had a mutual friend and that friend was broke and needed a place to stay and SBM had a vacancy and slowly infected the lives of everyone around him.  It was good to get some clarification on where HD stood with SBM.  He said he was friendly with him just to be nice but tried to avoid him as much as possible.  

The following Saturday, HD called to my department to warn me SBM was in the area and headed toward me.  I immediately shot out of my department and went to the break room.  After a few minutes, HD noticed I was back there.  I thanked him for the warning and he told me SBM came in to tell him it was his last day in town and that he was moving away.  We were both relieved to hear that.  Then, out of nowhere, HD invited me to have drinks with him after work.  i was taken by surprise because up until that time, we hadn’t talked much at all.  And he seemed standoffish, which is where the douche part of his Hipster Douche nickname comes from.  I just didn’t think he liked me very much.  But was it possible our mutual discomfort over SBM brought us together?  I agreed to meet him at a local restaurant/pub.

I walked in and found him already sitting down.  He had a beer.  I ordered a Coke Zero.  We talked about work and our pasts and more about SBM.  It was actually enjoyable.  It was everything I wanted out of SBM without the pretentiousness or sexual overtones.  He was insightful and articulate and interesting.  And when I found out he wrote songs and poetry, the jealousy kicked in.  I’ve never even read his writing but I knew he was better than me.  How irrational, right?

He talked about winning writing awards all throughout his school years and eventually forming a band and writing songs with them and even getting signed to an indie record label and going on a small tour, which has always been a secret passion of mind.  I’d love to write songs for a band, although I couldn’t perform them as I can’t sing or play instruments but I would love to be a lyricist.  But HD got that privilege instead.  He didn’t mention these accomplishments to brag or devalue my own writing or self-worth but I still felt myself sinking.

He did offer to pay for my drink, though, which was nice of him.  After about two hours of mostly effortless conversation, we went outside so he could smoke.  We exchanged numbers (although I felt echoes of my experiences with SBM, I quickly tried to push them down) and said our goodbyes.

I drove home and simultaneously felt better about HD as well as worse.  From my experiences of trying to interact with him at work, he seemed distant and unapproachable but during drinks, he was friendly and inviting and it made me realize you just really don’t know someone until you sit down with them and grab a spoon and take a big ol’ scoop out of their head.  Fortunately, I found mostly good stuff with him instead of finding myself freaked out like with SBM. 

In fact, I rescind the Douche part of his nickname, just leaving him Hipster (H).  He didn’t seem like such a bad guy.  I don’t think we’ll be best of friends now, or even friends at all, but I hope us getting to know each other a bit better will lead to more friendly rapport at work instead of uncomfortable civility.  It makes me feel a little bit better in general because work sucks enough without feeling like I can’t get along with a co-worker.  I don’t need that kind of tension but there is none and that’s good.

But, as I mentioned before, he’s younger and thinner and I’ve now learned he’s probably more talented and it hits me in the gut because I’m tired of being jealous of everyone all the time.  Sure, we all have our own strengths and weaknesses but it feels like I only have weaknesses, unless you count inhaling an entire chocolate cake from across the room a strength, which I do not.  

It wasn’t H’s fault.  It was mine for this addiction to comparing myself to others.  It was the fact that he had all these experiences to share and I had nothing.  I’ve been nowhere.  I’ve done nothing.  I eat and watch bad zombie movies on Netflix and make my living by folding cheaply made shirts for six hours a day.  I’m not exactly an inspiration.

And he tried giving me advice, telling me to get out and visit a different town, get a new perspective.  He was right, of course, but I couldn’t help thinking I should have been on the other side of the advice.  Here was this 21 year old giving me advice.  I felt like a big loser.  I’m older but less experienced, stuck in my social awkwardness and in my own head.  

But it wouldn’t have mattered how the night would have turned out.  It always ends with emptiness.  Even when people aren’t being jerks, when connections are forming, when individuals come together with laughs and learning, there’s still a sore spot, a tender bruise, a dud of a heart, an insecurity that reaches deep and pulls out pain and paranoia.

And to wrap up the rest of my work-related stories, work girlfriend (WG) and I are fizzling.  She still makes me smile when I see her but I’m learning to get over the feeling.  And her.  She’s a nice girl and if things work out with her and her fiance, then good for her.  If not, then I’m sure she’ll find someone else soon afterward.  Like she said, she hasn’t been single in over five years, getting out of one relationship and jumping straight into another.  It just won’t be with me.

And the co-worker with the side business still hasn’t mentioned anything about finally bringing me aboard.  I keep dropping hints without badgering her, really just wanting an update on the progress, wondering if she’s even still working on trying to hire me, but she’s not being very direct with me.  I’ve lost hope that she’ll save me.  I just hate that I ever had hope to begin with because I didn’t ask for her to hire me.  She came to me and injected that expectation and I’ve had to deal with it all this time and watch as it has slowly dwindled.  What was the point of dangling that desire in front of me if it was never going to happen?  I’m learning to get over that, too.