The Wall

II.
The First approached the Elephant,
    And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
    At once began to bawl:
"God bless me!—but the Elephant
    Is very like a wall!"

I'm sure the students at Yamaku are familiar with the concept of pain, but that certainly doesn't make them unique. Pain is a universal experience, but there are certainly some students here who have had to experience it in ways that most of us can be glad we are spared.

While Hanako's scars probably don't cause her any physical pain in the present (at least I hope not), whatever trauma she went through that caused those scars must surely have been intensely painful. While most likely not so intense as that, new students like Hisao and that girl Miki Miura are clearly still in recovery from whatever trauma sent them to this school in the first place. The state of medical science is such that there exist numerous anaesthetics to deal with physical pains ranging from an everyday light headache to the horrifyingly unthinkable searing of burns across half our body, but as much as many of us may wish it to be, medicines designed to save us from our emotional pains are difficult to find and tend to be far less effective.

I know many of the students here have had difficulties in their past that I could probably never relate to, not having a disability. Those who have had their bodies disfigured in an accident or because of some sort of disease no doubt experience an emotional pain that comes from the loss of what their life could have been, and the way their bodies once were. Beyond that, many of them may have lost friends and family, either literally losing their lives in the accidents that caused their disfigurements, or having them withdraw from their lives in the discomfort that some feel in the presence of a disability that they can't relate to.

The problem is, each and every one of us—disabled or not—has in some way experienced emotional pain, and as there is essentially no medical method for managing such pain, we all to one degree or another make the decision to put on emotional armor, or build an imaginary stone wall around our hearts. I once heard someone say "Love is like a gamble. An all-or-nothing thing, like Russian roulette. You'll either experience sweet eternal happiness, or feel the worst pain you could possibly imagine." It seems a bit extreme when put that way, but I know a lot of people who feel like that, and because of that feeling, they decide to never allow themselves to have any emotional attachment to others at all.

It can be strange the way it plays out in real life, though. You might think that avoiding emotional attachment would imply the avoidance of any sort of personal relationships at all, but often people with these emotional walls will fall very easily into relationships, but ones at a very emotionally shallow level. For instance, someone might have the appearance of being a very popular while in reality having never made many close friends. For that matter, even the one or two "close" friends may be people they only spend time with because they aren't the sort to pry into their personal life. Actually, I'd wager that most people have friends they invest much time and conversation into, but never create any real understanding between them. Now that I really think about it, what may be the most tragic aspect of such a friendship is that while probably everybody longs to have someone who really understands them, each friend will likely assume that the other doesn't have that desire.

I think it can be hard for anyone to trust someone else enough to bring them into an intimate relationship, but while shrinking away from emotional intimacy, a person might find it surprisingly easy to jump into a relationship of mere physical intimacy so long as they can separate out the emotional side of things. I can easily imagine a girl being more than willing to go to extremes to give physical pleasure to her boyfriend even if it meant doing something awkward, uncomfortable, or even somewhat physically painful so long as she could use the physical aspect of their relationship to control their emotional connection. Sure, society stereotypes men as being the sort that look for sexual gratification while avoiding emotional intimacy, but it's precisely because of the truth in the stereotype that a clever but emotionally damaged young woman might find it easy to manipulate a boy into the sort of dysfunctional relationship that she thinks will make her life safe. Maybe I'm wrong, but I tend to believe that deep down, everyone wants emotional intimacy, and a relationship like this will only make both parties miserable. Anyway, it's what I've seen in some relationships my friends have been in.

It's probably far more likely that fear of emotional intimacy will cause some to simply shut others out entirely, and they form almost no relationships at all. Someone like that might be surrounded by people who are attracted to them physically, emotionally, and/or intellectually but never notice this attraction, instead assuming themselves to be undeserving of friendship, much less love. On the other hand, people with lesser emotional problems might be able to form halfway functional relationships, and yet still put up walls in more subtle ways, either by attempting to keep everything in their life under their own dictatorial control, or conversely by allowing themselves to lose control through drug or alcohol abuse.

But whatever mechanisms a person employs to emotionally protect herself, it seems that an essential part of the overall strategy is to build a façade of some sort. Everyone does it to some extent, but I've seen plenty of people who seemed to constantly be happy and self-confident while behind that mask they were emotional wrecks barely holding themselves together. I really can't blame them for faking it, since almost everyone has experienced the sad fact of life that opening up and showing your true self to others can sometimes lead to cruelty rather than acceptance. It's yet another painful fact of life that the fear all of us have about opening up to others is justified. I've never understood why, but even though so many of us are hurting inside, the default reaction others have to us admitting our pains and fears is ridicule. I wonder who is the more emotionally damaged by this ridicule: the victim, or the perpetrator?