muse_manifesto: What makes you jealous?
I’m almost fifty and I’m a cripple. I live alone. I’ve lived alone for the last eight years. I have my job. My home. My possessions.
And that’s it.
I want to say I like my life this way, but there are times--
Sometimes, I imagine my life to be different. Completely different. So different, I don’t even recognize myself. I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling, and I imagine. I imagine life how it should’ve been. I imagine life how I want it to be.
Or sometimes I get up in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep (I don’t sleep well most nights), and I might get a chocolate pudding from the fridge. Or a cup of jello contraband from work. A spoon, maybe a drink, and I’ll sit on the sofa and eat the pudding (or the jello) and imagine.
Or sometimes I sit at the piano, and I play. And play. And play. And I imagine--
I imagine that this is all different. That I’m not approaching fifty, that I’m still young enough to care about the less important things in life. That I’m not alone. That the life I live is the bad dream and that the life I want is my real life. And sometimes--
Sometimes, I go to the park and I sit and watch the world go by. Like that Beatles song, ‘The Fool On The Hill’. Watch people running, jogging, watch people with their kids, watch couples walking hand-in-hand. And I look at them and think--
That should be me.
That should’ve been me.
People think I don’t know what it means to be happy. But they’re wrong. I know what happiness tastes like, feels like. Sometimes I watch couples walking past me, and maybe the guy leans in and kisses the woman’s cheek. Or maybe they’re laughing. Or maybe they’re just talking. But they’re happy. And I think--
Stacy.
Oh god, Stacy.
I watch these people. I imagine how my life should’ve been, how it was, how I want it to be. And I feel--
I feel jealous. Sometimes I feel so jealous that it makes me nauseous. I watch other people's happiness, I watch what other people have, I see it with my own eyes and imagine it with my mind, and sometimes I want those things so bad it aches. I want to like my life the way it is. I want to, but--
What’s there to like about being almost fifty and a cripple, and alone?
Nothing.
Muse: Dr. Gregory House
Fandom: House MD
Words: 465
And that’s it.
I want to say I like my life this way, but there are times--
Sometimes, I imagine my life to be different. Completely different. So different, I don’t even recognize myself. I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling, and I imagine. I imagine life how it should’ve been. I imagine life how I want it to be.
Or sometimes I get up in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep (I don’t sleep well most nights), and I might get a chocolate pudding from the fridge. Or a cup of jello contraband from work. A spoon, maybe a drink, and I’ll sit on the sofa and eat the pudding (or the jello) and imagine.
Or sometimes I sit at the piano, and I play. And play. And play. And I imagine--
I imagine that this is all different. That I’m not approaching fifty, that I’m still young enough to care about the less important things in life. That I’m not alone. That the life I live is the bad dream and that the life I want is my real life. And sometimes--
Sometimes, I go to the park and I sit and watch the world go by. Like that Beatles song, ‘The Fool On The Hill’. Watch people running, jogging, watch people with their kids, watch couples walking hand-in-hand. And I look at them and think--
That should be me.
That should’ve been me.
People think I don’t know what it means to be happy. But they’re wrong. I know what happiness tastes like, feels like. Sometimes I watch couples walking past me, and maybe the guy leans in and kisses the woman’s cheek. Or maybe they’re laughing. Or maybe they’re just talking. But they’re happy. And I think--
Stacy.
Oh god, Stacy.
I watch these people. I imagine how my life should’ve been, how it was, how I want it to be. And I feel--
I feel jealous. Sometimes I feel so jealous that it makes me nauseous. I watch other people's happiness, I watch what other people have, I see it with my own eyes and imagine it with my mind, and sometimes I want those things so bad it aches. I want to like my life the way it is. I want to, but--
What’s there to like about being almost fifty and a cripple, and alone?
Nothing.
Muse: Dr. Gregory House
Fandom: House MD
Words: 465