caring about someone you don’t know
i care a lot and it might be a bad thing
We reveal our empathy (if you have any) in all sorts of ways: helping a homeless person, servicing our elders, holding the door for someone who might be struggling or crying over the death of your favorite superhero. We might not necessarily know them, fictional or not, but just above one level of human decency is empathy.
I am a very empathetic person.
Now, by no means am I a saint. When I’m on these streets, I’m straight gangster. Hands will be thrown. But I have found that when I like someone, whether it be a friend, coworker or acquaintance, I tend to care about them. If they have a bad day or I feel their energy, I feel for them. I genuinely want to help. Why? I don’t know. And the worst part is that I feel so much for someone that I barely even know.
If you’ve been on this journey with me the last month, I have developed a crush on someone at work. Now a crush stays in this little perfect bubble of knowing enough about them to spark the flame, but not enough to figure out the maintain the fire. A crush is just beyond the threshold of the reality of the said person.
I crossed that threshold the other day.
Before this, even though I was wound up in some unrealistic fantasy of us, I cared (and still do) about him. My interest in wanting to know him was truthfully to understand the sadness in his eyes, the frustration behind his words, the defense he puts up. It seemed as though there was so much behind the pretty face, that it made me stop the nervous giggles and approach him with support.
I observe people
Some are more obvious than others. Jamie is a bit of a mixed bag, while Daniel carries whatever he has going on right on his sleeve. It is hard seeing it all. Sometimes because all I want to do is help in what ways I can comfort them.
It’s just when you care about someone you don’t know, the question in the back of your head might be, why?
I’m not trying to be everyone’s therapist. I also know not everyone wants to open up (myself included). But I suppose I guess it is a reflection of myself. If there was a moment that I needed someone to talk to and they were there for me, it might not have solved all my problems, but it may be the first step to processing what I am going through.
There is a lot of weight I carry because of it. And since I have realized this about myself I try to not overcommit.
But it makes me happy that at the very least, even someone I just met might know that someone else gives a shit about what they might be going through. That they are heard.
Or that is the goal at least.
