Gatsby let out a sigh that he had been holding in for the past half hour. Just a short while ago, I had struck up a conversation with this poor, confused man. He had just confided in me his deepest hopes and fears, and his plans to become someone other than your typical neighbor or party host. He wanted to have as many material items that he possibly could, thinking that would make for a fulfilled life. I resisted the sigh that threatened to escape my own lips, as another sigh wasn't going to help anybody.

Gatsby needed someone to talk to, and I happened to be the one to listen. I thought he seemed awfully quiet for being the host of this extravagant party, after all. But sometimes those that speak the least have the most to say. This man who had much more physically than he probably ever needed was one of them.

My mind drifted back to the present conversation, and slowly realized that Gatsby was muttering to himself, quick whispers that sounded quite discouraging and unhelpful to one trying to change. I focus back on the situation and placed a hand on Gatsby's shoulder to try and calm him down.

"Gatsby," I said quietly. "I know it can't be easy for you to tell me this. I mean, you don't even know my name. But I promise you that I listened to all you had to say. And I can offer you some help. Take it or leave it, it won't matter to me. But this is your life, here. You are the one who ultimately has power over your actions and…well, your destiny, I guess you could call it. Here," I continued, as I led him towards a cushioned bench a few yards away, "Sit down. But pay attention, because it won't be easy to completely change the way you've been thinking for your whole life. Material possessions don't truly determine happiness. They might contribute, but they certainly don't create a fool-proof formula to enjoy your life."

Gatsby lowered himself into the couch and stared at me, a little wide-eyed. He quickly recovered himself, though, and leaned back into the pillows. "A-a-are you sure? I don't know if we're thinking about the same thing here. You see this house?" he said as he gestured to the monstrosity of a mansion we were seated next to. "These gardens? Those lights? They have brought me happiness. They are the only reason I still am happy. Without them, Daisy wouldn't care about me at all. As it is, I need to get more things. Maybe a horse or two, or a new car, or-"

"Listen to me!" I interrupted. "Er, sorry, Gatsby. I don't mean to be rude to you. But you don't need all these things to win Daisy's favor. She's already married, anyways. She may have loved you before, and she may still love you now, but you're messing with fire there. Daisy is not the only woman left on this earth that is capable of caring about you and loving you for who you are—not this other person you pretend to act as."

My reply was met with a bit of a stunned silence. But the man sitting across from me must have been paying attention, as he asked me, "She's not the only one left? But no one else loves me. No one even comes to my parties because they like me. They just think that I have a lot of money, so the party itself must be elegant with fine food and entertainment. Almost no one even knows who I am," he finished quietly. "My next door neighbor didn't even recognize me."

"Do you see what I'm getting at?" I replied. "There's more to life than parties and dancing and expensive dishes. Other people are out there, just waiting for someone who can love them with all that they are. Love doesn't mean buying costly gifts and turning on a hundred light bulbs and staring across a lake at night. Love is caring for another person so much that you will do anything for them, and that you will always look out for their best interest and their health. You can find love in the most unlikely places, places you've never dared to look in before. But you can change that. You can give up all of this stuff you have laying around, and help someone out who doesn't have the means to provide for themselves. You can also look out for your own best interest. Those that only want your money aren't worth your time. Trust me.

Take care of yourself, Gatsby. There are only so many years in each of our lives and we need to make the best of it. It's okay if you're not the most well-known person in the state. When you can be happy with yourself, and only yourself, then you have succeeded. You've won."

With that, I stood up and walked out of the room. Gatsby knew where to find me. I could only hope my advice hadn't fallen on deaf ears.

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AN: This was written as if someone was trying to convince Gatsby that he's looking for the wrong things in life.

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