Being the enemy

Somebody hates me, and I’m not really sure how I should interpret it.

Nobody should really expect to make it through life without a fair share of adversaries and enemies, unless you’re willing to create so complacent an existence that it can hardly be called a life at all. There are people who are fundamentally incompatible with others. Some personality types naturally repel each other and create resentment. Humanity isn’t simple enough to be devoid of hate and narcissism. Even the kindest, least confrontational individuals are doing something wrong in somebody’s mind. I’m surely not one of those flawless, wholesomely good people – but I try my best not to agitate others. I toy with the idea of being that guy that everybody can at least tolerate, and preferably befriend.

Maybe this is based on a belief that everybody thinks “rationally,” whatever the hell that means. I’m definitely not some ulta logical person. My emotions infiltrate my mind as much as the next person. Still, when it comes to the conflict that’s created this animosity towards me, I believe it’s pretty black and white. Something happened, and the actions speak for themselves. The person who hates me, as I see it, made a fundamentally wrong decision. Not only that, but he did it with full warning and knowledge of the potential (and overwhelmingly probable) outcome of the situation. He put himself there and he expects me to be apologetic about it. I didn’t intend for things to turn out the way they did, and I had just as much control over the situation as he did – things just didn’t end up in his favor, as he should’ve expected.  I don’t see how it can be spinned any other way. And I certainly don’t see how I’m deserving of the labels I’ve heard have been applied to me: hypocrite. Douchebag. Piece of shit.

Now, I’m not talking about people I’ve mentioned previously on this blog – like Ian. I expect them to hate me, and in a way I’m glad they do. Those are people who are irreconcilable, who have personalities that cause them to default to resentment and egotistical smugness. When I stopped being friends with them, I anticipated the hate and knew that their feelings would be based purely on stupidity and selfishness, and not an actual judgement of my character. So that’s okay.

But this person, who I’ve never talked about before. I don’t know how to react to him actually hating me. It’s weird because I see this guy on a daily basis at school, and while we haven’t been friends or even talked for almost nine months now, I never got the impression he actively despised me. I knew we weren’t on good terms, but I assumed it was just the way the cookie crumbles – people move on, drift apart. But no, he’s been holding this against me all this time, making me an enemy for reasons I simply don’t understand.

Even though I’ve been reassured of not having done anything wrong, I still feel like I have. I can’t find his path of reasoning. What did I do that was hypocritical? How do I act like a douche? I’m already kind of self-conscious about the way I present myself to my peers. I try not to be pretentious. I don’t want to be annoying, too loud or obnoxious. I don’t want to come off as stupid or uncaring. Even though I try to be myself, part of my daily interactions with people is a balancing game in the back of my mind. I think it’s probably like that for most people, but it weighs on me uniquely because I’ve historically been a guy with few, if any friends.

So I guess it’s another thing to think about. Somebody hates me, and they have a reason why. It may not be a good reason – it could easily be one based in misguided anger, fabrications and illogic. But his reason has to exist, otherwise the hate itself wouldn’t. And I’ll never know exactly why. It’s probably because I was an obstacle. He wanted something that I was in the way of. But it wasn’t because I blocked him – I was already there. He made the decision to betray me for his own personal gain, and to enter a situation I told him would have costs. So maybe the reason he hates me is because I was there, I existed where it would’ve been more convenient for him if I didn’t.

But I don’t know that for sure, and I can’t help but worry that I’ve done something wrong myself. Everybody has their biases. Am I looking at this objectively, or through my own lens? It helps that others have agreed with me, but it doesn’t absolve the burden of having someone out there who really hates me. I know I’m not as good as I’d like to be. It’s possible I’ve committed my own sins that I’ve never acknowledged. Still, this is one of the only situations in my life where I’m completely convinced of what happened, who was wrong and who was innocent. So where does the hatred originate from? Why do I deserve it?

It’s probably better to just keep on living. People will hate, and hate is an abstract thing. In scenarios like this one, it’s not based right and wrong – instead, it comes from creating simple, self-serving justice in an unbenevolent world.


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