"If you hate a person,

you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us."
--Hermann Hesse (1877-1962)

I mentioned last night I might talk about friends. I'm going to put that off just a while longer, and talk about enemies instead. Perhaps "enemy" is too strong of a word. I remember being astounded that a friend of mine freely admitted to having not one, but several enemies. How on earth could someone in their 20's have accumulated enemies? Aren't enemies something you pick up later in life, after you discover that the millionaire-playboy lifestyle isn't fulfilling and you wish to try out a new career as a bat-influenced vigilante?

I don't have enemies. To be an enemy involves active opposition; a desire to thwart well-made plans. As far as I know, no one is working against me. At least, if there is someone, they're not doing very well.

But I'll be darned if it didn't occur to me while attending a concert, I do have someone whom I dislike intensely. This individual is someone who rubs me the wrong way, in every way. Someone who serves no purpose in my life and whom I would not miss if I never saw again. I despise this individual's work ethic, attitude, communication skills, interpersonal relations, and general demeanor. While I listen to the speaker, I never fail to be unimpressed and shocked at the amount of scorn that gets non-verbally communicated.

It's quite amazing that I can have such invidious opinions, when I seldom have any interaction with this person at all. On one hand, I can count the number of sentences exchanged. What may have been said about me (but not to me) is open to speculation. Luckily, this person seems to be almost unfathomably unreliable; if I show up when I need to, where I need to, I have a good chance of missing them altogether.

And yet... the quote from Hesse arrested my attention. I have always believed that meeting someone who is like you can result in two ends: either you love the person, because in them you see the good qualities of yourself, or... you hate them, because you see all of your faults reflected in them. Is that the case in this situation? I hope not. However, I cannot find a satisfactory explaination for why I feel such irrational dislike. It's a deep fear that I am what I hate. Now that makes me uncomfortable. Is it "me" I see in them?

If so, then I must not be aware of it. Guess I need to rely on my friends to call me on it.
If not, then they must have beaten my mother in a previous life, or something equally heinous.