Crawling.

My insides crawl when I see you. I see you over there on that bench, with your new workout gear, your matching headphones on head and a slump about you that tells me just enough. Sadly, you are just like me. I can see it from a mile away. You sit up like you are arrogant, but yet, you have a little curvature and shifty eyes that tell me otherwise. You have not yet learned how to control the eye movements. How to look with the peripherals. You focus directly on targets. Targets that you feel will make YOU better.

You disgust me, for you give us away. You tell the world that we, despite our external presentations, are weak and need something, somebody, to be good enough. I know the look, even the familiarity with your environment. You are not new here, you come here every day. You figured out a long time ago that going to the gym, sacrificing a little bit of indulgence to look better, will make you better. Sure, it did what you thought it would, you definitely feel confident enough in your looks and now in your strength to perform in front of these people. That is where it stops though. What you see is what you get with you. You are merely familiar, not comfortable. You are not authentic. I can see it. You are needing something and jeeze man, would you please stop glancing at her. She doesn’t care bud, by mentally wanting her to, doesn’t work. What is this, a beginners lesson on how to creep girls out? 

This is why I am disgusted. You remind me of the worst parts of myself. I too suffer from the same crippling, low self-esteem. The crippling part is that we put our value on chance. We are banking our entire lives that others will take note of us, what we’ve done, our sacrifice, our discipline. Instead, you know by now, they do not care. They really only care about them and what they can get and you have nothing to offer. You might act like you are here for you, for your own growth and personal goals, but you aren’t. I have a mirror bud. I know that look. I have stared my own sad eyes in the mirror enough to determine when someone else is just like me. The sad part is you don’t yet see it. I think you are such a beginner because you do not yet see how weak-minded you are. You actually have convinced yourself that you are something, despite the subconscious knowing better. You poor, sad, little man. I feel bad for you because even if you don’t see it. I do. Other’s do. They will not see it like I do, but they will see something. They will see a part of you that is a "turn-off" despite all the external effort you are putting out to “be better.” 

I want to care about you. Care enough for you to get better. I want you to know that it doesn’t have to be this way. You can really be comfortable in your own skin, comfortable to make mistakes, look uncool, go a day without lifting, or at least no longer spend $400 a month on supplements. You know how I know you did that? You have the shaker and the T-Shirt. Those rewards are only given to the high rollers. You sir, with your 2006 Hummer sitting outside, are doing the best you can to show dedication to your “sport” and not just a superficial waste of money. No, guys like us, we cannot admit that. We would rather be considered these weird gym beasts than to show we care about how others perceive us. Of course we care. You and I are not doing any competitions anytime soon. We do not lift enough weight to compete, and lets be honest, if it is a strength-based competition we are trying to perform at, we do not need to be “lean.” 

I can’t care for you, I have too much on my own plate. Plus, what happens when I extend myself and in return you drag me down? Not only am I not comfortable in my own skin, but I lack the assertiveness to form any healthy boundaries. I cannot help you because I barely help myself. Some days I am better than others. Some days are plain crappy. Some days I am great and think I am finally a whole person again. Ha, again, like I ever have been. I have been reaching for something since I was a young child. Then it was easy to get mom’s attention, even if it was negative. Now, I have to meet these obligations, have these plans, this presentation, all to be “enough.” I have to undo all that I’ve done. All the advice I could give you is that you need to find another way. 

I have learned to look up to someone I enjoy talking with, I have altered my thoughts from presenting to them, to see what they are doing. I guess I have a skill in observation and insight, so I might as well use it to model after more authentic people. Can I do that? Is it that easy? If I cannot simply be me organically, because I do not know who that is, can I just be Him, or Her? I’ll take anything outside of me. Well, not you, because at least I know where I stand. I am further along than you. You might go down a path and never return. You might never actually see what your deal is. I at least know that much. 

Also, dude, if you are going to do this, could you please get better at your talk with your friends. After all, I can hear your over-laugh, your loud talk to show those others you know people, you laugh and have a good time, and that this lifting thing comes easy to you, this body is natural. BS. I want you to know it’s sad. You need to get better. I hope this is not where you stop. I hope you get all the skills to present a physique to everyone, because it will never be enough for you, to finally realize that this isn’t going to work. I know by now and you’re older than me, so you are a bit behind. I need you to know that you have to get into the deeper thought process of others to determine just how subtle you have to be at this. You are overt, it’s too much. Only a dweeb will fall for it. Not her. Not that girl. Yea, the one I saw you glance at like you needed to unstrap your wrist guards. No man, she is a different breed. She likes confidence. I know because she hasn’t looked at me once. Trust me, if she hasn’t looked at me, she is not going to look at you. I at least have mastered the art of the peripheral. Your rookie eyes do not seem to get that girls wear those pants and those midriff tops for a reason. You seem to think it was an accident she wore that. No man, she is here for business and you sir are not up to her level. 

I am so upset that I care, that you, this reminder of the worst parts of me reflected back, actually still ring true. Why can’t I just be me? This self-sustaining person who does not need the stimuli of another, stronger, better looking person than me. Why do I need a reference when I can do the job. I am capable of living on my own, I do not need a person to tell the world I am enough. Just like I do not need the gym to tell the world I am anything or this diet, or these stupid over the hear headphones. Personally, these went against my judgment anyway. No, I want to read books and watch cartoons, and eat a sandwich every now and then without cringing at the damage the bread and processed meats has on my "abs." Nobody sees them anyway. I always believed that a guy with true abdominal muscles didn’t have to show them off, they were just there. It’s too overt to show them. Plus, how often do I even take my shirt off, I never swim. 

OK, three sets and you’re done. I thought so. Good. Get out of my view. You are bringing out the worst in me. The part of me I want to forget. The part I want to suppress. It isn’t healthy for me to see these parts of myself. 

Oh jeeze dude, you are not going to walk next to her at a 15 incline? Dude, you are too close, you are too obvious. Plus, the curvature in your back straightened but now your chest is puffed out and your arms aren’t even resting on your sides like you are carrying around water jugs under there. Dude.

Oh well, I his loss I guess. Or mine. I have been watching you for only a short while and yet I am the one bothered, not you. Maybe I am worse than you are. Maybe I do have the problem. Maybe….

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