An argument against my own cynicism

If I had a dollar for every FB wedding video preview with the phrase “their commitment to each other, but more importantly their commitment to Jesus Christ” let me tell you. Ok I don’t know the actual amount but any dollar would be too many. Always the same rising music, the good southern girls too young to make me believe what their doing is genuine instead of a performance- emulating how they think a bride should wide mouth laugh smile, press her cheek to her betrothed back for the camera, make her way around to every table- playing hostess. It’s playing wedding, like they used to play house. I’m hate watching these things-scoffing at these perceived mistakes- in between job applications and mindless rolling back and forth through social media sites- facebook, twitter, instagram, snapchat repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat. Sitting in an empty cold apartment, my eyes still raw from a crying spasm- one that has become a daily occurrence, in dirty socks, grinding my teeth from the fading effects of an adderall I stole from my girlfriend, all the while feeling profoundly superior.

But why? Even if I think there display of happiness is for show, their feeling of contentment a disillusion, their faith and love a lie couldn’t that be argued to still be better than my current situation. Their fantasy- fake as it may be- seems much lighter- IS much lighter than my reality. At the moment. I look down at those who stayed in Georgia, but as they spin the 70 degree February they aren’t noticing my judgements raining down like the relentless grey that doesn’t seem to fucking stop in my new Portland home.

Am I superior and unhappy, or am I superior in my unhappiness. Like look at me the suffering artist (who isn’t good at art and doesn’t even create anymore) look how I didn’t fall trap to the comfort conveinence of the suburban bubble. Bully for me a girl with no job, no friends, and a relationship crumbling under resentment and jealousy. How chic am I?

Am I actually the deluded one? Is it the young lifers who actually have the answer, who have figured out a way to navigate this shit storm of a world we live in? That in their faith and settlement they have found peace and contentment?

Probably not. I must be really depressed if I’m starting to think the white christian youths have an inkling of answers. I’ve been consumed with the concept of happiness- perceived happiness vs actual happiness. Before I thought they were two different beasts, but now I’m not so sure. Something about the fake it til you make it principle. Also, if part of my actual unhappiness comes from the constant comparison to other people’s perceived happiness then who is to say.. well anything.

As someone who refuses to falsely advertise my own happiness, I in turn am creating more unhappiness. I’m pretty sure I’m girl on the train-ing myself. In that- I’m miserable and can’t shake it and so I continue to be miserable to be around and then my girlfriend will have an affair with some un-miserable and it will basically be completely justifiable. Not that I think she would then go on to murder someone and attempt to murder me. But I don’t know, you can never be too sure with her.

And as much as I say I’m not, I’m completely resenting her for not being miserable with me. But I chose this. I chose to come out here when she got her dream job. The problem is her dream job is like everyone’s dream job. It’s not like her passion is something weird and niche like science and she’s like I just love collecting soil. It’s like hip, advertising, party, work perk central. So it’s impossible to not be jealous, especially if you have nothing to distract from said jealousy. And even more especially if you have to hang out with only other people that work there and only talk about working there. It’s like crashing a cult event, and not only have you not drunken the Koolaide, no one is even offering you a cup. They see me as not worth the recruit.

So there’s all that. And yeah- my gf isn’t exactly being the best or sensitive, or supportive. It could be argued she is overly wrapped up in that cult. But can I really blame her? The answer is absolutely I can and have been blaming her. But I can see the argument for why I shouldn’t. And that’s pretty big of me, I think.

I miss my friends. I miss having other things in my life so I’m not so reliant on GF. So I’m not so jealous. So I’m not so mother fucking sad.

So yeah. Maybe I really just should shut the fuck up and put on my southern big girl smile. Galatians 1:10.