Page 62 of The Genius
“Ahh, yes, that’s not a bad idea. That would work on every male there, not just Solo.”
“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here, and for the record: I don’t lie,” Willow protested.
“It’s just a little white lie for your safety,” Tristan pointed out. “After I failed Shelly yesterday, I would like to help you if possible.”
Willow got up from the couch and walked to the window overlooking the city. “Why don’t we wait and see if Solo is even interested in participating?” Her hands played with a necklace around her throat. “Storm has a point. There’s a big chance Solo is married with children now. He probably doesn’t think much about us anymore.”
“Wonderful. Then I’ll get the invites rolling,” Storm exclaimed. “It’s going to be the wildest party ever. You’ll see!”
CHAPTER 13
Pragmatist
Shelly
Does being a pragmatist make you less emotional?
It was a question I pondered over as I analyzed my relationship with Marco. For as long as I could remember, I’d been told I lacked a filter and needed to develop more sensitivity.
I’d taken a psychology degree and learned to compensate for my so-called lack of empathy by analyzing body language, non-verbal sounds, and making sense of it all.
Now that Marco was back in my life, dormant feelings had surfaced from the time I was a teenager with a crush, and I’d concluded two things.
One: Maybe I didn’t express my feelings as openly as normal Motlanders, but I still had strong emotions. Marco brought out a wide range of feelings in me, strong enough to cause physical reactions and sleepless nights.
Two: Ididhave a filter. Not once had I told anyone, including Marco, about the way he made me feel. Declaring my love would only complicate things between us when it was really very simple. We shared chemistry but had vastly different ideas of what our futures looked like. I planned to travel, explore, and develop things to improve life for all humans. Marco dreamed of a life in the Northlands with a sweet wife, children, and material wealth.
I was rational enough to understand that we would never be able to make each other happy. The realization that I had not just a filter, but a strong one, made me think that maybe I wasn’t lacking empathy either. Maybe I was just less attached to outcomes than others and therefore less impacted by emotions.
Like the time my sister didn’t get into the school she wanted and she cried for a week. I didn’t understand why she was so upset when there were other schools to pick from. It wasn’t that I didn’t see how disappointed and sad Rochelle was. I just didn’t see the sense in sharing it and feeling sad myself. That would only make it harder to cheer her up.
Charlie called me and because I’d just been deep in thought, pondering the subject of empathy and how I could apply it to Natura, I asked him, “Charlie, would you say empathy is important?”
My boss tilted his head. “Very much so.”
“And would you say that I have empathy?”
Unlike Nmen, Charlie had no facial hair, and wore a bit of make-up. “Why do you ask, Shelly?”
“I spoke to my sister Rochelle a few days ago and she accused me of being selfish because I didn’t sympathize with her complaints.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“What would be the point? How would it help her?”
“Well, it can be nice to feel like someone else cares.”
“Rochelle said that I haven’t developed empathy because no one expects me to show it. According to her, everyone thinks I’m quirky and emotionally limited.”
“And you disagree?”
“I know I’m quirky, but to call me limited… I don’t know, Charlie. The thing is that I’ve observed an interesting pattern. When my sister is sad, she’ll fall apart around her friends or my mother. But when she’s with me, she’ll collect herself and suck it up.”
“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t think you understand anyway,” Charlie commented.
“Exactly. But from a practical standpoint isn’t it better to compose yourself than to fall apart? Meaning, am I not doing her a favor compared to the others who make her feel worse by asking endless questions about her pain?”
“It’s not that simple, Shelly.”
