I Am Such A Sucker, And I’m Always The Last To Know

My biggest flaw is my desire to be liked. No, it’s not a desire, it’s a need. It’s a deeply rooted, horrible, pathetic need to have the constant approval of everyone around me. I know that it doesn’t sound like much of a problem, and certainly not anything original. Everyone wants to be liked, even the most misanthropic of mankind. There is, however, a difference between wanting to be liked and needing the approval of others to feel validated, to feel even slightly alright.

Last Friday, I went out for drinks with some of my coworkers to celebrate my last day of work. After about an hour, everyone had gone except me and Ed. We sat and drank and talked there for a good five hours together, and I began to wonder why it took me so long to actually like him. It wasn’t until today that I realized it was about me. I was the problem. I’m getting ahead of myself here though. After a while, his girlfriend came to join us and we all sat around and drank and talked some more. Eventually, in a drunken mess, we went back to Ed’s. He and I sat in his basement and smoked as I listened to him play guitar. It was one of those situations that probably would have been sufficiently strange and awkward had we not been so fucked up, but fortunately, we were. It was surprisingly fun, and for the first time, I really felt like we were friends.

So that’s how I started treating him. The next day he called to make sure I got home ok the night before, and we talked for a while about everything. On Tueday, I IMed him and he joked around (well, half joked) about how I was going to hell for abandoning him and how miserable he was having to do it all himself. On Wednesday, we talked again. On Thursday, I went to pick up my last paycheck. Everyone noticed right away how much happier I was, which is true. Not having that job immediately sparked my spirit, reminded me of a time when I was a happier, more care free person. I have really been glowing since my last day there. Ed, on the other hand, looked at me with hurt and pain in his eyes, in that pity-me kind of way. I’m such a sucker for that look.

Needless to say, I went in today to help him out, and told him I would come in every other day for the next two weeks until his replacement is available. The second I sat down at the computer, I regretted it. I got that lump in my throat that the job always gave me, that "I would rather be anywhere but here" kind of feeling my stomach. Ed joked, "I knew you’d be back Zelnick, you just couldn’t stay away," and suddenly, I hated him again. How could he not understand that I hate this job, that I would do anything to never have to enter another appraisal again? How could he not understand that it wasn’t about the job, it was about helping him? So here’s where we arrive at the aforementioned epiphany moment. Why? Why the hell am I doing this to myself? Ed didn’t do anything wrong. He really hasn’t all along. It’s me. It’s my need to have his constant approval, and the less he reacts the way I would like him to, the more I want to gain his approval. How did I get so messed up?

The worst part is, I get mad at him and I get mad at me, and then I’m unlikeable. I can feel it happen. It’s this horrible transformation that I’m unable to stop. All week I was so excited at the prospect of being good friends with him, sharing our inside jokes, talking about life outside of work. I should have just left it at that and things would be fine. We would have ended the work relationship on that fun drunken Friday night. Instead, I ruined it by wanting him to first realize he needed my help, and then for me to swoop in and give it to him. I wanted him to thank me for being a good friend. I wanted to be the one who got to save him from his pity. I am such a sucker.

Then, of course, I was angry with myself and I acted like a bitch. I couldn’t be the friendly, fun girl I had been at the bar on Friday or on the phone all week. I was back to Frankie, the employee who resented everything about her job, most of all her boss. I wanted so desperately to laugh and joke and I simply couldn’t. It’s a horrible feeling to be so trapped by your emotions, and now this is how I’ll most likely leave Ed for the last and final time. I hate myself for wanting his approval so badly and I hate myself even more for feeling like I’ll never have it. I think there’s some definite "daddy issues" playing a role here. I worry it’s a pattern I’ll never escape. I worry I’ll always be a sucker for a pity-me look, and I’ll spend my life regretting the actions it causes me to take.

The real problem is, even knowing all of this about myself, I would still do anything to make him like me. Even a simple thank you would suffice.