Martyr - Tape 4

(Beep. Music fades in.)

So it turns out that I also got promoted. Which was really exciting, even if we haven’t worked out the details yet, specifically what projects and responsibility I’m bringing with me. There are just these projects that can’t have anything happen to it ever, least our entire workplace burn down. And frankly, I don’t want to trust some hypothetical new person with them. They’re too important to me. Personally. 

I have this tendency to want to nurture things, and these projects fit into that need rather nicely. I started these things, and I want to see them through. It’s kind of like packbonding, I guess but a little… well, unique. So it works out, I guess

However, I do know for a fact, that I will not be the one to handle the coffee. That’s not something I get to do anymore. That’s not something I can look forward to.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

With this arrangement, though, my girlfriend is worried that they are taking advantage of me, and she’s always been worried about that sort of thing, but it was the sort of worry that would  be resolved when I leave that office. The problem is now that I am not leaving this office. At least not for a while.

And I don’t think she’s necessarily wrong for thinking the way that she does. In part because she’s so good at expressing what’s on her mind. I should emphasize that last point. This is not me being extraordinarily charitable and understanding. But that would be nice, assuming it could happen. Keeping it realistic, though, it’s not easy for me to tune into someone else’s emotions. I do want to, and you would think that given what happens at night, I would be some sort of empath, and this would be easy for me. But far from it. 

As for my girlfriend and I, we are just doing the best we can, usually by her carrying extra weight. And I try to as well. I like to think I do my fair share of lifting. But as a couple, we have a lot more to carry than others do. 

She does try to listen to my side, of course, when I can string the words together. But it’s hard for me.  I know I’m not saying the right thing. I know I’m not saying what’s expected of me. It sounds wrong, so I hesitate. And I say nothing.

Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t, am I right? I’m not right.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I know why I’m like this. I know this stifled voice is the sort of thing I was taught to have. It did not come naturally to me. It was more convenient to have a kid that was seen and not heard, I guess. And there was a part of my mom’s decisions that were always made as matters of convenience and not necessarily my wellbeing. 

I have been told is not an uncommon tale. And sad as that is, there’s some comfort in that. But I know there shouldn’t be. I should not draw anything good from this particular well, but here I am: happy to not be alone. I always felt like I was alone. Even when that somehow seemed like it was normal. But there was always this reason to believe that it wasn’t normal. Like you. You were different. You were what I remembered my dad being like, and that’s something that I can’t explain well. But I guess… I guess, he was just a parent. He was what I knew a parent was supposed to be. Invested might be a best word for it. 

Even uncle wasn’t like that. He didn’t know how to be. And in many ways, he wasn’t supposed to know how. That wasn’t his vocation or even just his job. My life was just not anticipated. So there’s that. 

But on that, you were in the same boat, and I’ve always wondered what made you different.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I guess the flip side of that is what made me different, and that’s how I’ve looked at it for so long. What made me different that you who vowed to never have children suddenly care about me not as a person or parishioner but as if I were your child? And that’s what I was like. I was like your child. 

For every story you gave me, I--as a child--offered many pointless and meaningless ones back to you. And that’s not being self-deprecating. Look, I’ve been around children. Sometimes they’re just talking to get the practice in. And they need it, fair enough. But I wasn’t that young of a child back then. I had a few years under my belt, years that I could have spent practicing those things. I just wasn’t allowed to. I didn’t have a place to practice or ears to listen to me. until you came into my life. And then I was making up for lost time. Lots and lots of lost time. 

You always listened. Each and every time, even when you probably should not have. And that drew me closer to you. You: who actually cared at me. 

You told me that you were excited to see the person I would become. That you knew I would be an amazing person who did amazing remarkable things. ANd you wanted to be able to see. You were excited to see. That’s what you wanted. But that didn’t work out on a couple fronts, did it?

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

My job before this one, before the job I was promoted from, was in a different office and for a different company. It was actually, by title, a higher position than what I will have. I think, maybe. On paper, it looked good, but it also didn’t mean anything. It was a small department where people could call themselves whatever they wanted, just let the HR person know so they can validate things on the inevitable background check because no one stayed at that office for long. If they could jump ship they did. And to keep that from happening, management tried to exhaust you to the point that you couldn’t handle the job application process.

But that wasn’t on paper. That was a well kept secret. On paper, it was everything I was supposed to want: status, achievement, glory, a good salary. But it still didn’t suit me. 

It was even a nonprofit position. Saving lives and all that. And it still didn’t suit me. 

I made the most of it though. I made things better for the program and for the people it helped. But then I had to leave. For my own sake, I had to get out. But at least I landed on my feet, I guess. The recipients were fewer and the impact more trival. But it wasn’t nothing. And the people I was serving… well, I know deserve it. 

Part of my past job was assisting the department head. And maybe I shouldn’t say this, but he did not deserve the help. He did not deserve my efforts, least he break me and make me more like his image. That would be a loss. 

It took me a while to admit it, but hey, look at this way, I did get something out of that job.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Acts of service, I called it to my girlfriend. That’s what I thought I was doing and why that job meant so much to me. Acts of service I loved doing acts of service. They fueled my soul. 

My speech was short but impassioned. Or I thought so. 

To it, she replied that might have been the most Catholic thing she had ever heard me say. 

And that makes sense. Because I heard it from you.

I had this moment the other day. I can’t explain it. I like to think you were whispering a hint in my ear. But what if I was focusing on the wrong thing? You said many things to me. Maybe that last thing isn’t so important just because it was the last thing.

(Music fades out. Beep.)

The Oracle of Dusk is a Miscellany Media Studios Production. It is written, produced, performed, and edited by MJ Bailey with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful Music Supply. If you like the show, please consider leaving a review or telling your friends about it. And check out Aishi Online, the story of the voice you know all too well.