I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Ann Arbor thinking about my hero complex. Two girls behind me are studying medicine and the pair to my right are talking about Jesus. I love this city.
I don’t know where I get this complex. I don’t think I got it from reading too much PI fiction during my youth, but I do think I latched on to PI fiction because of it. This is kind of how its been with girl too. I always seem to catch them at the crappiest points in their lives and then I’m there to offer a shoulder and help them clean up the pieces and then they move on to someone else. I guess I’m part self-conscious, part emotionally needy, and part hero wannabe.
But now I’m in a situation where I see a friend sinking further into anger and depression and I want to be the one to rescue her and pull her out, and kick her butt until she achieves everything I know she’s capable of. There’s a couple problems with that though. First, I don’t even know that its all as bad as I think it is. I tend to over dramatize things and blow things out of proportion which could be the case here. But I also know I’m pushing her away and angering her with my attempts to help–granted some of my tactics have been less than savvy.
There’s nothing I can do but wait it out and keep my nose out of her business. Luckily I have the book to work on to keep me focused. A couple blogs lately have been talking about theme (though I hate the word and fall on the Tod Goldberg side of the argument) and hero worship and hero complexes are definately driving forces in much of my work.
And speaking of the book, I’m going to close up shop here and head over to the Starbucks where they don’t have wireless access so I can get some work done. It’s also the Starbucks where I finished several tough short stories so I’m hoping it can help me turn the corner and find a good ending (or any ending for that matter) for the book.