Seek understanding ad absurdum

After an emotionally taxing week, and with Pep’s return to streaming on the horizon, I had hoped to use my weekend to rest and recuperate. After all, my social energy reserves weren’t exactly topping out at 100 like Pep’s.

Of course, Yaki’s meddling had already gotten in the way of my peaceful Saturday, which meant Sunday would be my one true day of rest, just as Kasparov intended. And I was determined to keep it as such. No distractions, no meddling, no emotionally charge conversations. Just myself, my computer, and some stress free-games of chess against strangers on the internet.

That was the main reason I ignored the ominous text message that simply said “13:30, outside the shopping centre, don’t be late.” The other reason is that the text came from an unrecognised number. I may not be the most social aware man, but I know enough to recognise an obvious kidnapping attempt when I see it.

Honestly, in the age of the internet I had expected these serial killer types to be a bit smarter. Years of ‘online stranger danger’ rhetoric has made our entire generation hyper-paranoid about anyone who’s entire personal life can’t be found with three seconds of googling. Considering my own aversion to social media had caused me to be labelled creepy and untrustworthy by my own classmates on more than one occasion, I doubted this little scheme would find any success.

Sorry, mister kidnapper, but I’ve no intention of giving up my life or my free time today.

“Ah, I suppose I failed to mention. This is Sai.”

…fuck.

***

“Has anyone ever told you that you text like a bad horror movie villain?”

“Peppi has. On more than one occasion.”

“Ah, I should have guessed that it’d be her if anyone.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you have no other friends to text.”

“Perhaps seeking you out today was a mistake.”

I arrived to Sai’s meeting place at precisely 13:32, and of course I preemptively insulted her before she could complain about my lateness. Apparently it worked, because I received no scolding for my grave sin of two minutes of tardiness other than a glare upon my arrival.

It also occurred to me that this was only the second time I had ever seen Sai in casual clothing, what with the fact that we rarely saw each other outside of school. Though I could hardly say her casual clothes were all that different from her school clothes. A reasonable-length plaid skirt, plain black leggings and a grey cardigan that covered whatever top she was wearing. The only part of her appearance that felt particularly unusual to me was the fact that she was wearing her usually-ponytailed hair down, reaching most of the way down her back. Despite being far from a daring look, it suited her in a way. I mean, if she was gonna pretend to be all sophisticated and shite the least she can do is look the part I suppose.

“So, you planning to tell me why you called me out here on my sacred day of doing feck-all?”

“Is it not normal for a girl to invite out a friend for no reason other than to enjoy one another’s company?”

“Of course it is, but neither you nor I could ever be considered normal, so we both know that’s a pointless deflection. Come on, out with it, whaddyou need?”

“...I suppose there really is no reason for pretense, is there?” she sighed, seemingly a tad hesitant to get to the heart of the matter. “Let us find a place to sit first. I’ve hardly any respect for pointless social standards, but even I’m not so self centred as so to stand around in the middle of the street.”

“Avoiding unnecessary attention from the ground plebs? Should’ve suggested it sooner.”

Though I did actually want to sit down and get out of the way of the street, part of the reason I agreed was to ease Sai’s nerves a tad. Even as we walked towards a set of benches off towards the edge of the high street, she hardly seemed herself. She was slightly hunched and her steps seemed timid. For someone usually so confident and above it all, it was a strange way to see her. For a moment I almost felt… concerned? God, what have I become? How terrible.

We took our seats on the bench and I waited for Sai to begin speaking. It took her a while to actually begin speaking, though it wasn’t entirely clear if she was trying to find her words or if she was just too anxious to immediately broach the subject. After several seconds of hesitation and thought, however, she seemed to finally get her wits about her.

“I… believe I finally have my answer for Peppi,” she said, looking down at the ground. “To her confession, I mean. I’ve given it much thought, and I think I understand my own feelings.”

She spoke vaguely, almost noncommittally, but from her tone I could tell immediately what answer she had come to.

“You don’t feel the same way as her, huh?”

“…no. No, I don’t believe I do.” She sounded apologetic and guilty, as if the mere action of not returning Pep’s feelings was some great sin. “Mistake me not, all that I have said before about my gratitude for her remains true. I consider her my most treasured friend, and I value her dearly. However…•

“…it’s just not love?”

“…yes. In the end, I suppose that’s all there is to it. It’s simply not love.”

I suppressed a sigh, not wanting to give Sai the impression that I was invalidating her feelings. It was an unavoidably unfortunate situation, and the worst part was that there was no comfort in blame. For two to simply develop different feelings was an inevitability of human relationships, and a sin on no one’s part. But when hurt is inevitable, and the fault belongs to no one, you tend to internalise that blame onto yourself. I could see in Sai’s eyes that she was doing just that, and it was likely causing her a deep pain.

It’s funny. Just a few weeks ago, I’d have likely rolled my eyes and called her an idiot for feeling that way. ‘It’s something you can’t help, so why feel guilty? That just makes no sense.’ And in a way, I’d have been right. It is nonsensical. But rarely are matters of the heart sensical in the first place.

It was myopic and naive to assume guilt can be assuaged with logic alone.

“So… how did you realise? The way you feel, I mean?” I asked hesitantly.

“It was when she and I spoke at lunch that day. Or rather, it was that evening as I was reflecting on that conversation.”

“Really? Both you and her acted like it went well.”

“In a sense, it did. I felt like I understood far more about her after our conversation than I ever had before,” she said, staring off into the distance. “However… it also illuminated just how much I still yet failed to understand. And also to what degree she failed to understand me. It was as if for each thing I now grasped, a dozen more appeared that I could make neither heads nor tails of. It was only once I had stepped out over the cavern of understanding that I realised how deep my ignorance had been, and how deep still it remained.”

“So you didn’t realise how poorly your knew each other until you knew each other better?”

“Yes. Or… no? I believe not that it is a matter of knowledge, but comprehension. It seems that the things I believed I knew weren’t entirely incorrect, but I had utterly and completely failed to comprehend them on the base level. It was most obvious when she and I spoke to each other, and though our words appeared to constitute a coherent conversation, we seemed to be…”

“...talking past each other?”

“...yes. Precisely.”

I knew the feeling she was talking about immediately, of course. It was one that everyone would come to have at some point in their life, even the socially reclusive and terminally alone. Those moments when you’re certain that the words you’re both saying make sense, and yet you have that feeling in your gut that you’re reading each other wrong. That the text of the conversation is sensical, but the subtext is all wrong.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it was blindingly obvious why I knew that feeling so well.

“I… often get the same feeling when I talk to Pep,” I admitted with a sigh.

“Even you? Truly? Given the time you and her have spent together, I expected the two of you to understand each other almost completely.”

“I don’t think any two people can ever truly understand each other. At least not entirely,” I said, looking down at the ground. “No matter how well you think you know someone, there’s always hidden depths to them that you’ve failed to pick up on. No matter how connected you feel, human relationships are really just a series of near misses. You can get closer over time, sure, but past a certain point the only thing you have left to learn is how impossible it is to learn everything. There’s a limit to understanding, no matter how much you want to exceed it.”

That was something I had come to learn in the time before the incident that left me isolated, though I didn’t fully comprehend it until I had had all that time alone with my thoughts. Humans are complex, but their base desires are simple. They crave understanding, but can never understand. Layers upon layers of masks, adopted both consciously and subconsciously, until you reach an impenetrable self seen by no one but the individual. And every time you peeled back one layer, it only helped you realise how many were left.

To believe you can understand another person’s true self is a hubris.

“I see your point… though, if we follow your way of thinking to it’s logical extreme, does it not stand to reason that a person may never truly understand themselves, either?” Sai said, after a moment of quiet contemplation.

“Hmm? How so?”

“Well, do you truly think the conscious mind can ever comprehend the subconscious?”

“Does understanding have to be conscious to be valid?”

“Perhaps not, but if you cannot consciously act upon your subconscious understanding can it truly be called understanding?”

“What point are you getting at here?

“If a person cannot be expected to understand themselves, is it not unfair to devalue human relationships on the basis that they cannot understand each other?”

“I’m not trying to devalue human relationships, I just…” I paused, trying to find the words to express the thoughts that made so much sense in my mind but eluded me so heavily in speech. “...I just think that so much of what seems like genuine connection comes down to people just barely passing each other by, getting so close but just about missing each and every time.”

“If that’s truly how you feel about relationships, why do you continue to entertain them? Why spend your time with Peppi and I if you do not believe we will ever truly reach an understanding?”

“I… don’t know. I guess… maybe if I feel like if I keep getting just close enough I can whittle down that uncertainty with time. Maybe not completely, but… enough.”

Now that I was forced to speak it allowed, I saw the absurd nature of the contradiction in my thoughts and actions. I believed that true understanding was not achievable, and yet I sought it so desperately from those around me. The chasm between my ideals and my actions seemed impossible to bridge, and yet I still felt like I could compromise on neither. My belief wasn’t shaken: I entirely believed that obtaining true and complete human understanding was a Sisyphyean task. And yet I strove for it regardless. Were my thoughts and feelings irreconcilable? Perhaps. But I couldn’t let either go.

“Though rife with cynicism, I cannot say I don’t find truth to your words. Regardless of how well you believe you know someone, even if that someone is yourself, you will never fully assuage that uncertainty. I know it well myself.”

“So then… what do you believe we should do about it? If the end goal is always out of reach?”

“Strive for it regardless. Seek understanding ad absurdum. Climb the asymptote until it is too steep to climb, then climb even further. Finality may be unreachable, but each and every step along the way brings you closer, and is there not value in that?”

“I suppose so… but if that’s the way you see it, why use lack of understanding as a reason to reject Pep?” I asked. The contradiction bugged me, though part of me was unsure I wanted to hear the answer.

“...the asymptote is perhaps steeper for some than others. Though I value her greatly, I cannot say I believe Peppi and I will ever be able to attain a great enough understanding of one another to support such connection.” She paused and inhaled deeply before continuing. “In fact, I believe there is but one person I have ever met with whom I share such deep intrinsic understanding. One person alone who… as you would say, ‘get’s me.’”

I understood with no further words exactly what, and who, she was talking about. And I silently thanked her for not speaking a name. Because I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit I felt the same.