Golden Boy
1.14.6
It started about a month before Christmas.
One of my co-workers, Greg, had commissioned Jeremy (another of my co-workers) to paint a portrait of his wife and daughter. The painting was to be a gift for Greg's wife.
Greg brought his favorite picture of her to work, the two discussed a price...and that was that...
...until the day that Jeremy showed up with the finished piece.
That morning, Greg nailed the painting to the wall above his desk. A few minutes later, a group of employees came back to the warehouse to see it. As the day progressed, news of the "burgeoning artist in our midst" spread throughout the company. More and more people came back each hour to stare at the painting and discuss its merits.
I overheard the comments as I worked. "It's so beautiful." "She's going to love it." "I didn't know Jeremy was so talented." It was as if he was suddenly the official golden boy of the company.
The portrait was only Jeremy's third ever. He has since set up several more painting jobs for employees who, being so impressed with his work, wanted one of their own. Our boss, Tod, even spoke with a gallery owner who was interested in seeing the piece.
With a few strokes of the brush, Jeremy's dream career suddenly seemed a bit more attainable.
In keeping with my recent trend of self-examination, however, I feel I should admit to being a rather jealous person. I don't mean to imply that this extends to all aspects of my life. I'm not, by any means, the kind of man who becomes fearful if a girlfriend has male friends. I couldn't care less if someone makes more money than me. Artistic success, however, seems to inspire a type of spiteful envy in me.
Each and every bit of praise that filled the air that day stirred in me an almost painful bitterness. Several times, I even had to retreat to the parking lot to calm down.
I don't know why exactly, but I cannot seem to just be happy for Jeremy like a normal person would. His current artistic success has absolutely nothing to do with me, yet secretly, I almost want to see him fail.
It's sad, and it's stupid, and it's horribly selfish...I know. I feel like a terrible person for having these thoughts. However, it does feel good to get this all out.
I feel that it's important that I recognize my weaker traits, even if I am unable to fix them. I think that in the long run, I can handle having such flaws. What I would truly hate, though, would be to know that I walk around each day completely oblivious to them.
