Envy

You don’t will it to come, but it does.

You don’t like to admit this, but it actually does come to you.

Like a thief in the night, Envy creeps into your skin in the slickest way possible.

Sometimes, it doesn’t always come at night. Sometimes, it’s mid morning, when you’re lying down in your bed, thinking about the deadlines you’ve still not met. Then as you open up social media, your screen blasts with the news of a celeb getting another Range Rover.

You don’t will it to come. I know you don’t will it to come, but it does. You eye your phone through a fiery lens that could burn through wood. Your head calculates itself at 3,000 miles per second with thoughts of:

“God, am I beans?. See me here struggling for so long, yet what have I accomplished?. See other people busy buying Benz in this economy! Reaching heights in their careers? Getting followers when I’m getting zero likes!”

These thoughts cloud your head without warning. The more they dance their way from your toes to your heart, the less human and more beast you become. The hatred grows on you like a second flame. Self-loathing kisses its way to your lips…

You don’t will it to come, but it does.

Sometimes it even comes in a conversation with friends. It’s all laughter and reminiscing and good gist about the latest wins; and you laugh and say “cheers”…but do you really laugh?

Or is that happy sound just nuggets of puffy air that actually conceal the truths hidden deep inside? Way deep inside your oesophagus where the laughter is yearning for a scream out loud?

Envy. So deep. So real. Jealousy’s baby sister.

You’re probably wondering why I didn’t call this piece “jealousy” instead.

Maybe it’s because I want to delude myself into thinking it’s completely normal and I’m not a total buffoonish loner.

Maybe it’s because I want you to realize that it’s okay to be envious, to allow it cloy your insides and make your body feel unfamiliar. But it’s not okay to dwell on it. It’s not okay to bury your soul in it till you become the inadequate person you stare at in the mirror one day.

Maybe it’s because I want you to realize that we all walk different paths. Maybe Brother Thomas’s path is wired with rosy petals and sun shades to protect his skin from the darkness of the world. Maybe Miss Sandra’s path is wired with a big crowded stage where she’s the soloist and the world is her oyster…

But you…

Maybe yours is different.

Maybe you’ll never get the chance to be the loud siren. Maybe yours will be the silent thunder, echoing, clapping, resting on one quiet observer’s shoulders who would still choose you and recognize you even when you no longer recognize yourself. Maybe yours will be the gentle volcano that will take eons to erupt.

And if that path’s yours…

Maybe the first way to getting there is accepting there, then working towards moving from there.

XOxO

Flowers