rickroyal

"But I didn't understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair." -- Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

I read the words years ago, but it's only in reflection that I am once again amazed at how a man I've never met (and whose culture background is so completely different from my own) can so perfectly and simply state a complex mesh of thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head for these past few months.

It makes sense, of course. If we accept the idea that there are people in the world whose very presence makes life a little brighter for us (personally; in ways that are unique to us and them), it only stands to reason that there are also people for whom the opposite is true. People whose very nature draws us in and then abrades from us that which is good. And that this damage is done without malice -- simply different natures causing involuntary friction -- is the most beguiling and irksome part.

No. The most irksome part, of course, is realizing, with extreme horror, that you have discovered someone for whom you cause this involuntary damage.