Emotions don’t make a lot of sense to me. People who suffer them seem to have tiny psychotic episodes in between dramatic breakdowns.
I’m sure it’s not that bad, but for someone like me — someone who wonders if there needs to be a vaccine for high emotional states — it looks like a terrible thing to experience.
Since I don’t do emotions well, I have a hard time connecting to people. Not on a surface level, I’m really good at that, but at a deeper level. The level in which people expect things like empathy.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I have empathy, I’m not a psychopath, it simply takes me longer to get there. And, I don’t throw around emotions all willy-nilly. I ration that shit.
I save it for things that really touch my heart, or for things that make me rage. (Rage is an emotion, right?) I save it for people who aren’t going to exploit my emotions. Which no one admits to up front. They all say, ‘Oh, I’d never do that! You can emote on me.’
Yeah. No thanks. I’ll decide where I emote. And if you are pandering for it, I will likely think you are a voyeuristic vampire, and I want nothing to do with that.
What is the point of all this? Hell if I know yet, I imagine I’ll figure it out alongside you.
One point though, is how misunderstood people like me are. We aren’t cold and calloused, we really do care about things.
Another thing I want you to know about people like me — it’s okay with us that you are having all the emotions. Just don’t expect us to hop on the ride with you.
You can’t make me prove how much I care by measuring my emotional state with your yardstick.
I suppose I’ve found the point. I am okay even if I’m not like you. I cannot measure my worth against yours, nor can you.
And just because I think you might just be having epileptic fits of psychosis over puppies and sales at Target, I still think you’re okay. And I know I am.