We had a salesperson/consultant come and make a presentation the other day at work. It was literally painful for me to watch him, because he exuded that Willy Loman quality . . . it’s something I can almost taste when I see it, and it makes me shudder. It is literally painful for me to see someone who gives off that sense of bravado-infused failure . . . even watching Marley and Me, which was supposed to be a tear-jerker because of the dog, I found myself caught up in the lead character’s angst, his sense of not having done what he wished he had . . .
I don’t know what it is, but living, walking failure sends a pain through me unlike any I’ve ever known. I don’t know if it’s that it reminds me of my own father’s unfulfilled wishes, or if it’s just that I’m sometimes too compassionate for my own good, but I can barely take it. It has been literally painful for me to even write this entry. And the entry itself is kind of Willy Loman-ish itself.
But I just thought I would share . . . so that one less draft is stagnating in my blog vault . . .