Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Emoting the male way

You know, the annoying way when they don't ask the right questions and try to fix stuff and immediately go into the what-can-I-do mode, sometimes altogether too closely followed by the why-are-you-still-upset-it's-been-20-minutes mode. That's how men emote. There are studies. Women, on the other hand, want to talk about things — sometimes for hours at a time without ever reaching a resolution — and they want moral support and somebody to tell them they're fabulous.
How do these diametrically opposed individuals ever get together?
That's not my point, though. My point is, I emote like a man. Seriously. I try to fix everybody's problems, and I have for years. I had this friend in college who had Issues. He questioned his testimony on a fairly regular basis. He had this long-distance girlfriend whom he met online. His family was crazy. His brother was dying. He was unexpectedly diagnosed with diabetes. Like I said, Issues.
I would have given my left foot to fix him. Really. I did care about him, but I don't think that was my primary motivation; I really just don't like to have things in my world not be as I want them. I don't like people around me being not happy. It becomes my personal mission to fix that.
That could also explain why I wanted to save the boyfriend from himself — fix his laziness, cure the spendthrift in him, make him all of a sudden realize he didn't have to be, for lack of a better word, a loser. Eventually I settled for not having him in my life anymore, which pretty much solved my problem.
And there's the bro, who I am sure — absolutely, positively sure — that if I just do enough, he'll hop back into the path I think he should be on. Enough of what, I'm not totally certain, but if I just keep doing, well, it'll come.
Guess how many people I have successfully fixed? Yeah, that's a whopping goose egg. That's worse than my high school soccer team's record. (Shudder. We were so bad it was depressing.) Why do I still do it? Why don't I just let people deal with their own lives?
A: I feel bad. Not to mention guilty for feeling happy.
Oy.

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