Is there a more uncomfortable feeling than your “jumpoff” calling you to come over and telling you one of her parents passed away? Ok, that may sound harsh, but let’s be real. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. The worst part is there was no warning beforehand. You got that call and got crispy kreme fresh awaiting a night of pure filth all over the 1-bedroom studio apartment in a shady neighborhood. As soon as she opens the door, the feeling of doom and despair hits. You are waiting for her to tell you she's on her cycle and you already planning how you going to transition to other forms of sexual satisfaction. For some reason, these tears seem a little different.
So here you are, sitting there wanting to leave but don’t want to come off as a callous asshole. Then suddenly, your eyes get a little watery. Not that, “mama put a little too much green onion in the greens watery”, but you want to cry. She looks up at you, then she grabs you closer and thanks you so much for coming over. Them tears got you transitioning her from a 4-piece nugget snack to a whole Popeyes $5 box meal type of relationship. Now you sitting there wondering why are you crying? You not the super emotional type. You never met either of her folks. Only real family member you met is her fat, but still calls herself thick, going all-natural, one un-returned message from a POF date away from full blown lesbian, best friend. You can’t stand her cause she always talking shit about you and it’s brutally TRUE. Anyways, you trying to get it together. Every minute that goes by gets you closer to being added to her Facebook as, “in a relationship”. Then it hits you, this is the same month your mom passed away. It was 12 years ago but that type of loss never gets old. It dulls but stays close like a knife at your side and a slight push either way can open up wombs. You remember the pain you felt, so at that moment, you and your jumpoff have a mutual feeling of shared deep emotions. With that said, you still feel like shit. Why? I’ll tell you why, “Because you feel like a selfish son of a bitch”.
I’ve personally always struggled with empathy and showing emotion for others. I never found out why, but I guess it’s my nature as a problem solver and communicator. I always felt like I needed to say or do something to make someone feel better. To make the tears stop. To make the pain subside. The sad part about losing someone is there is no solution to the pain and the emotions. They simply must run their course and the course can be days, weeks, months, or even years. I lost my Grandmother in 2002 and I still shed the occasional tear to this day. I’m not going to lie, when someone cries uncontrollable around me I feel anxious. Should I embrace them? Crack a joke? Pretend I got a phone call and retreat like a true coward? I’ve always been the cry alone type of guy. I know, y’all reading this and saying, “what an asshole”. The crazy thing is inside I am sympathetic. I hate when my loved ones are hurting, and it hurts me that I can't fix it. I really would if I could, but a fix doesn’t exist. So maybe I should be the other semi-fake extreme…….
You ever been to a funeral…. wait let me rephrase this for my white and non-black readers. You ever been at a black folks’ funeral and see 'Ms. Lady in the big church hat hollering and screaming' grasping the casket like the dead got a 4-digit winning lotto ticket in they pocket? I was at a friend’s funeral and this one lady was putting on an absolute show. She was in all black and had a hat on that a few pigeon families could've called home. I distinctly remember her because she had on these fishnet stockings that really turned…my bad, getting off topic. Any who, she was putting on a show as soon as she walked in the church. For some reason, that church music and choir seem like it pumps in, 'put on a show of screaming and fainting'. That organ got to playing and she went into action. Lady had to of ‘almost’ fell at least 3 times. Ironically her falls always happened near a double-breasted suit wearing brother each time. She also made sure that skirt was pulled down each faint attempt. Now you might think I’m some sort of pervert and you would be correct. That’s not the point. How are you passing out but still cognizant enough to make sure them leg quarters and hind parts aren’t showing? So, after halftime, I mean the halfway point of this service I ask my boy who she is. She was a co-worker of the deceased and only worked with him for a little over a year. I damn near lost my shit at that point. Apparently, her husband died a few months early.
Now I’m thinking, were they having an affair? Come on now, I know halfway thru y’all was thinking the same thing. Still haven’t gotten an answer to that. If you are reading, please email me. I’m no snitch. Your secret is safe with me. Anyways, it got me thinking. This isn’t real sympathy. These are fraudulent tears in the house of God. Is it common to exercise deep empathy/sympathy for another by re-living a similar situation you went through? I always hate when a person says, “I know exactly what you are going through”. How could you? First off, it;s not a damn competition. Secondly, each experience one has is unique to that person. When I lost my Grandmother, was the loss more for me based on our strong bond? If you didn’t truly know me, you might have thought I was either handing it well or we weren’t that close. Looking back, I didn’t handle it well it all. I carried guilt, anger, and true sorrow still to this day. I just compartmentalize more than others. I feel bad cause when someone tells me about their loss, my immediate thought is of my Grandmother. I feel selfish because in their time of pain and sorrow, my own personal pain and sorrow is front and center. So, each situation that presents itself I ask, “how do you handle being sympathetic/empathetic to others”? I guess living in the gray, the best answer is simply being there. That’s a hell of a start.
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