I'm not sick, but I'm not well

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"You look so fine

I want to break your heart

And give you mine

You're taking me over."

-- Garbage 2.0

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And just now, I realized, I am attracted to sad people. I don’t know if I’m attracted to the person itself or if my infatuation draws its prehensibility from the existence of the emotional state they’re in. I hardly see myself as a rescuer, since I myself need the rescuing most of the time. I dunno. It’s all fucked up really.

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I have this officemate who is totally not my type. The person is skinny, gangly even, sloppy and moves like a sloth. Although I admire the sense of rebelliousness in the way the person dresses – ordinary long sleeve shirt with slim-legged pants that are too long and unfolded, worn out leather boots close to being the cowboy kind, gelled up hair but still unruly, broken eyeglasses, and either a burnt sienna leather jacket or a brown corduroy blazer to withstand the cold -- everything still seems so unpolished. Often quiet, the only thing I know about this person is that there is fondness for art films like the one lent to my friend, El Crimen del Padre Amaró and The Virgin Suicides. Aside from that, I don’t even know how old the person is.

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Last week though, the person attempted to hang out with my group more often even when that meant extending lunch hour by nearly 30 minutes. I feel there was something the person wanted to say, something about a bad breakup, something about not being able to deal with the job well. I notice these things. I know there’s something amiss, especially when the person left for home during lunch break today on account of illness.

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I want to know more. I am inadvertently drawn.

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