Feeling envy

His shiny new car, my latest tech toy; his promotion, my job switch. Every move demands a countermove.

I’m not sure about where I’m going, and I suspect he doesn’t have a clue either. So we both look at each other, engaged in this silent dance, each cautiously making sure no one gets too far ahead. It’s a cycle of watching, mimicking, and one-upping. 

Our lives become a relentless pursuit, not of happiness, but of parity. Envy serves as a shortcut, guiding us to what’s valuable. If the other desires it, surely it holds some worth?