She wore a golden chain locket. He had a silver ring. They had suits on. She had a fancy car. He had a laptop. They had everything and anything they could get.
Envy sat next to me, saying, “Those people have better things than you do.”
“I don’t need it,” I whispered.
Envy leaned closer, mimicking my whisper, adding to my sentence: “But you want it.”
I shake Envy off, but Envy does not leave. Envy never leaves. Looking across, at the large pond, I see a couple on a boat shaped like a swan.
“You like that boat,” Envy thought for me.
“I think it’s stupid,” I corrected.
“True,” Envy agreed, “but you want love, like them. The boat doesn’t matter. As long as it’s someone to be with you all the time.”
“Shut up,” I said as I got up from the bench and walked towards the swings.
When the children saw me walking towards them, they ran off, moving towards the slides and monkey bars. But they still watched, wondering what I, a person who was not a kid, was doing on a swing, just sitting, not even moving.
They watched me speak to the air.
They were children. They didn’t recognize Envy sitting next to me.
“There is no real way to shut me up,” Envy argued.
“I believe in miracles,” I said.
Envy laughed, a guttural sound that shocked me.
“Do you really?” Envy asked. “What makes you think you can escape something that’s affects every human being in the world?”