For all the attention on me, my problem with you starts small: you surrendered brutal opinions of me to our mutual friends and expected that I face it with little criticism. These ears are just another channel to transmit your messages. Nowadays so much of our past is studied by mutual friends, or even worse anonymous bystanders. Is there anything that you say that can actually matter?
Everything about it- especially the lack of respect- is awful, but several factors mitigate against my reciprocity. This, after all, is a contest that’s grown too sophisticated for amateurs. In a way, life is less burdensome for me when I can simply ignore your existence, but the stake to redeem an explanation is too high.
The thing about explanation is that we are now two strangers with distinctive voice, and that the listeners can only distinguish the facts from the garbage you say with their own judgment. But people are a quirky sort. Though these are the best reasons I’ve given, they are pretty pathetic. You and I would be better off if we’d just locked our opinion and furious past in a secret chamber and never released it.
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