“Sorrow knows no seasons,
Trolls do not need reasons.”
We had around eight consecutive hours together yesterday, mostly in the car. As usually happens when we get the chance, our conversation ranged over almost every conceivable subject. At one point we were discussing a couple we know whose marriage is rapidly deteriorating, even though their problems seem relatively minor.
“… they are each so anxious to prove that they are the more aggrieved party, neither one is really trying to fix their problems,” she concluded. “They look at counseling like it’s a court that can convict the other person, and prove themselves right.”
“So it has become a contest each one wants to ‘win’,” I summarized.
“Yes, even if ‘winning’ means losing everything.”
Her text message alert went off, so she spent a few minutes there as I drove along, thinking.
When she was back from that, I said, “I’ve come to the conclusion that’s why online trolls do what they do. They neither believe nor even care what they are saying, they just want the fight.”
“I picture people like that,” she added, “friendless, stuck at home, proving they can make something happen, no matter who it hurts. Like that guy who faked the 911 SWAT team call and got some poor guy killed.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That was horrible. What was that text about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Remember Gary and his wife, Josetta? Her brother committed suicide a few days ago.”
I was stunned. “What happened?”
“They don’t really know, yet. I’d heard he’d had a lot of problems over the years. And the holidays can be so hard on people.”
We stopped a few minutes later to get gas and buy some salt water taffy. I carried her purse out to the car to warm it up while she spent a few extra minutes inside, and my brain constructed the little couplet affixed to the top of this essay, apparently encapsulating our recent conversation.
As she ate her Reese’s cup, I had some taffy.
“I didn’t even know they still made that stuff,” she said.
Photo credit : me, view from our hotel this chilly morning.