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The Crush of Apathy
“If you could have any superpower,” she asked me “what would it be?”
After the cyberattack, all of the desktops take too long to turn on. Conversation fills the time.
“I wish I gave a shit.” That’s not great language for an article, but I didn’t expect to be writing about the conversation. It was unfiltered.
“What do you mean?” She’s a good talker. I don’t usually sit next to her.
“I wish I cared.”
“You don’t care?”
“I don’t seem to have the correct emotional responses, I care about that. It’s just, in retrospect my reactions seem inadequate, or not right.” Her eyes were questioning me. “Once we were visiting the graveyard, and Mum began to cry. I noticed, but I didn’t feel anything. My wife had to nudge me and tell me to do something.”
“Do you not feel empathy.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m very empathetic.”
“So, did something happen?”
“I can probably identify the episode or the event. Maybe, a few years ago.” I thought about the loss of my friend, and then my father. I heard my second therapist telling me I seemed to lack emotion. She asked what gave me joy and mentioned that none of my answers involved other people. There were no relationships.
