Why I-Became Friends With Gatsby

Not that this decision to be friends with him was premeditated, but Gatsby was different. Gastby was an outcast, but in his own way just like me. He had an unbelievable amount of wealth, which I didn't have, but nevertheless he didn't fit with the crowd of his peers either. He had the amazing parties, but didn't attend them. He was showy at times, but wasn't obsessed with it all. I liked that he actually cared about more than money, trips, and big houses. He cared about people. He just didn't show that because he knew people would take advantage of him. He knew about the rumors that were spread about the town. He wanted to make sure he showed his personality to somebody that wouldn't disown his trust, which I guess was me. I realized how lonely Gatsby was once I actually got to know him, which made me want to be friends with him even more. I wanted him to have somebody. Frankly, I needed somebody too. Somebody to keep me level-headed in a place of self-indulgence and pleasure. Not that it was partially because I had pity for Gastby or was just settling to satisfy my own needs, but because I thought he deserved friends. It was so nice and refreshing for me to have a real conversation about the world and past experiences with another man, not just another chat about how nice the weather was or when I was planning to go into the city next. Gatsby had substance behind the money, which was hard to find in both East and West Egg.

What I Was Thinking-When I Didn't Shake Tom's Hand

Tom has this incredible knack for thinking he never does anything wrong. Apparently it's always everybody else's fault. So when he held out his hand for me to shake when I saw him on that busy New York street, I wasn't shocked. However, I thought to myself, "does he realize how many people's lives he has ruined? Or does he just not care? Did he even apologize to Daisy? Why does he expect me to look past his mistakes?" He just stood there with his hand outstretched, expecting me to embrace it like good, old, childhood friends. I wasn't stupid. I still didn't accept his gesture. I knew Tom would get angry, but I didn't care. I didn't need his approval, and I never wanted his friendship in the first place. In fact, I didn't even need Daisy's affection either. She never bothered to keep in touch with me until I moved to West Egg. I thought she just assumed that I couldn't see through her conniving ways either, even though I could. Of course, she was my cousin, and I would rather be around her for an entire day than spend an hour alone with Tom. I just simply never imagined that nobody else would put up with both of them voluntarily for days on end. Then I remember that everybody else in East and West Egg were just as shallow as they were. So no, I don't regret being buddy-buddy with Tom that day. He had to start learning that everybody isn't going to forgive all of your mistakes and that there are consequences to your actions.

What I Was Feeling-When I Moved To West Egg

It was a pretty big step for me to switch from a little family house to the exciting, high-end West Egg. I felt that I would be successful in that area and among the rich, even though I wasn't to the fullest extent one of them. I wasn't accustomed to that get-everything-you-want-whenever-you-want lifestyle, but was open to giving it a try. I was still nervous though, but that was to be expected. Sure, I was well off, but I felt like a poor servant among kings at times. I hoped that everybody would like me, and I wouldn't make any enemies. That fear of rejection or hatred from my new peers was something I didn't want because everybody in town knew each other's business whether it was positive or not. Seeing how Daisy and Tom treated each other and other people, I didn't want to be like them, but I was confident that there were genuine rich people. Meeting Gatsby confirmed my hope and I was getting used to living comfortably. The fancy parties, ease of luxury, and fast-paced adventures just around the bend was starting to become a part of me after long, but I was ok with that. I liked it. I didn't feel like it was consuming my life like Daisy, Tom, and their friends. It wasn't until Gatsby's death that my heart told me how superficial I could easily become and that I had to distance myself from this way of life and return back home to my old-fashioned, get-what-you-want-through-hard-work routine.

What I Was Feeling-When Tom and I Visited His Mistress

I knew that Tom didn't have many likable qualities from the moment I met him. However, I can honestly say that it was low (even for Tom) to cheat on Daisy. Maybe it was because he was my cousin's husband or maybe because I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for something, anything. I didn't feel pleased or excited when Tom asked me to go to New York with him for the day, because I could sense it wasn't just for fun. He was on a mission. A mission that would stretch his selfish ways farther than even I thought it could go. Daisy was beautiful, and counted on Tom. It made me mad at him and upset for Daisy that he could just throw her away like she was leftovers from the previous night's dinner. I didn't like that feeling of us sneaking around behind Daisy's back. I felt she should have the right to know, but it simply wasn't my place to tell her.  To me, Myrtle Wilson didn't really have that many qualities that set her apart from Daisy anyway.The entire time I watched Tom interact with Myrtle, it made my disdain for him grow. I wish I could have punched Tom in the nose that day in the same way he punched Myrtle. Although it may sound terrible, it was a little bit of a relief to me when Myrtle died. It was only a relief to me because knew I wouldn't feel guilty about carrying the burden on my shoulders of knowing a very personal secret about the relationship between my cousin and her husband for so long.

What I Was Thinking-When Gatsby Died

Once I got to know Gatsby, I couldn't imagine why anybody wouldn't be lining up to be friends with him. He was loyal, passionate, rich, and just enjoyable to be around. That's why when Gatsby died, I was confused as to why there wasn't a huge crowd at his funeral, and why people kept saying negative things about him. Here was a man who threw marvelous parties every Saturday and didn't have a guest list, and yet all those people didn't even give him a second thought when he suddenly wasn't around anymore. I pictured myself living in Gatsby's big house, on every night expect Saturday. It must have been so quiet, mostly so alone. That big empty house with nobody to share it with. I continued to think not only what Gatsby's life was really like behind closed doors, but also about the meaning of life. Does money really buy happiness? How is popularity really defined if you can't even count your trustworthy friends on one hand? Is the world trying to attain this "American Dream" without knowing that it's not what is seems to be? With my mind racing with questions, I made the decision to go back to home. I didn't want to live like Gatsby anymore. I didn't want the money, the cars, the fancy clothes. I learned that all along I was perfectly content with my average life. Even though people may think the rich have it all, the life of wealth really is just overrated.

Why I-Helped Daisy and Gatsby Get Together

Some may say it's strange that I would be a witness to my cousin cheating on her husband and do nothing about it, but I don't think that's a fair assumption. What I mean by that is, Gatsby and Daisy had a special connection, a connection that I never for even a second saw in Daisy and Tom. Gatsby and Daisy could have just stared at each other from across the room in silence and have no other place they wanted to be, yet Tom and Daisy just looked at each other with empty eyes and hearts even if they were having a pleasant conversation. Plus, I liked Gatsby way better than Tom. I mean, he cheated on her in the first place so I didn't owe him anything to stop Daisy from being with Gatsby if she wanted to. Sure, Daisy could be superficial and careless, but she was so happy around Gatsby and I knew that Gatsby really loved her and would be willing to do anything for her. He was the exact opposite of Tom, who was very authoritative and rude and only cared about himself. That's why I left Gatsby's house as soon as Daisy and Gatsby started talking. I didn't want to interrupt the true love that they shared, a love that I wish I could have gotten to experience with Jordan Baker. Anyway, I knew that if I would have said something to Daisy and Gatsby in that moment, I would have been better off talking to myself because they were so entranced in each other that they wouldn't have even heard me.