We always hurt the ones we love

I think it one of the saddest facts of life, and perhaps the very saddest fact of all, that we can only ever hurt the ones in life that we love; and that we hurt the very most the ones we love the most.

We can only hate the invulnerable.

And so, we end up hurting, and even killing, only those we love: to be hated is to be invulnerable. How, after all, can we hate a person who is weak?

And so our own compassion becomes our worst enemy and, paradoxically, our only real salvation.

It's a bugger, innit?