An Awful Jealousy

I think she was just unaware. Unaware of everything around her: the dewy grass you weren’t supposed to run on, the steamy soup you weren’t supposed to taste, the bustling street you weren’t supposed to cross. This unawareness of hers caused many accidents, a slip, a burn, a close passing. But ultimately, I can’t comprehend why I was jealous of this. All she did was hurt. Yet there was something about this type of hurt that was palpable. It was the type of hurt everyone needed. A reminder of reality, and a reminder of time. A reminder of the feeling and pain we all become numb to every now and then. And a reminder that this ignorance of hers was not a deception of herself in this lack of knowledge, but a gift of the pain of life and suffering of reality.