special

"So one last touch and then you’ll go
And we’ll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
And you are beautiful but you don’t mean a thing to me…"
-The Postal Service, Tiny Vessels

I keep thinking if I can just make good art, someone will notice.  Someone will appreciate.  Someone will understand.  Someone will care.

I’m always looking to be validated based on a product, not personality.  I’m not too fond of myself so I look to my art in hopes of garnering attention.  Sometimes I think it’s easier to dress up my writing rather than my mind.

But even trying to do that feels terrifying because art is an extension of one’s self and if my art is rejected, so am I.  I’m not ready to face that kind of pain so I don’t finish projects.  They stay in a work-in-progress limbo to hold off the possibility of finishing, then failing.

I want my work to matter.  I want to matter.  And yet I’m scared of finding out neither one does.

If I don’t have my work or myself, what do I have left to offer the world?  If I have nothing then I am nothing and if I am nothing, why am I here?

I’m no one’s number one and it’s disheartening.  I know a lot of people care about me but nothing feels like it runs deep enough to fulfill me.

The majority of us have people who care for us.  But it doesn’t make us feel any better.  It doesn’t ease the loneliness or the separation.  Why?  I wonder if it’s because we only have certain people we’ve deemed appropriate to assuage the agony.  Maybe some people just don’t count because we don’t care for them as much as they care for us.

That sounds kiiiind of horrible.

But I think a lot of us feel that way.  Otherwise, any person who came along and offered a friendly hand would fix the frustration.  But we still feel bad.

Maybe it’s just more gratifying getting recognition from those we admire.  The problem with that is the people I admire usually don’t admire me.  Or sometimes I admire them from afar and make them out to be grander than they really are.  And then I feel inadequate around them, like I’m not good enough, like they couldn’t possibly be interested in me.  I’m a fan.  I’m a faraway admirer.  I can’t be their friend.

Sometimes they do like me.  Sometimes they don’t.  And the ones who don’t are the ones I want approval from the most.  A lot of us probably feel that way from time to time.  It’s like having a crush.  We want the ones we want to want us.  Unfortunately, we tend to discount the ones we don’t want who want us.

It’s the way relationships work.  It seems most of them are one-sided.  How many times have we had a crush on someone who wasn’t interested or never even noticed us?  It applies not only to romantic endeavors but to all relationships.  We have co-workers who didn’t give us the time of day or teachers who wouldn’t talk to us or cousins who chose not to play with us.  We meet writers who write us off, girls who gag in our presence, boys who bruise our egos. 

Sorry, I’m just not that interested in you.

But I could be a good friend.  Someone you can confide in.  Someone who will make you feel good.

Nah, that’s okay.  I have my sights set on something else (i.e., someone better).  

I’m guilty of this myself.  And I’ve been a victim of it.  A good example is of the stalker guy and the writer girl.  I deflected his advances to praise and molest me and the writer girl wanted nothing to do with me yet I wanted so much for her to like me.  We had a lot in common but she wasn’t having it.  And I saw myself stepping into the stalker guy’s role as an unwanted advocate.  I didn’t want to be around him.  She didn’t want to be around me.  One-sided and painful.  I understood how he felt.  I just hoped I let him down easier than she did me, which was by ignoring me.  At least I told him I was not interested in pursuing a friendship with him.

We want to feel special and there are people out there who are capable of making us feel special so why don’t we let them help us?  Is it superficial like some mental caste system in our minds?  Are we categorizing people, sorting them out, putting them in files in order of importance?  Or is it something deeper, something harder to explain?  How do we get to the root of relationships and what we want out of them?

Do we simply want attention or do we sometimes strive for symbiosis?  Do we want to help them as much as they want to help us?  And do we decline their offer of assistance and discount their support and encouragement because there is no perceived balance?  We can’t help them so they cannot help us?  Sure, some would eagerly eat all anyone had to offer without thinking of giving back.  But I also think other people do genuinely want to give as much as they take.

I can’t help but wonder if I really want to give as much as I want to believe I do and that’s the reason I can’t accept the affection of others or if, in reality, I’m just a snob about who I take it from.

Are you special enough to help me?  Am I special enough to deserve it?