Like the devil's got your hand

He thought he was dangerous.

And for a while I believed him, and I was afraid of him.  Because he was physically stronger than me, and he was intelligent, and it seemed like there was nothing he couldn't accomplish.  And then for a while I scoffed at this belief.  Because what could he do?  Punch me out?  Break a few bones?  Which isn't great, but by then I'd learned that some of the worst wounds someone could encounter are self-inflicted.  And that unlike broken bones, even if properly treated, they may never go away.  And so I believed that he couldn't hurt me, or anyone.  Not in ways I hadn't already managed to hurt myself.

But then, we're all dangerous.

It took me a long time to reach that realization.  Probably a lot longer than it should have.  I'd been so busy digging myself into and out of holes, though, so it's not too surprising.  But anyway...

We all have more power to do damage than we give ourselves credit for.  We are all thoroughly capable of hurting ourselves, and of hurting others.  Just as we are capable of being hurt by others, we are no less capable of hurting them.   I think that's something that maybe we don't expect, don't think about terribly often, because we don't see ourselves as horrible evil people who cause others harm.

And maybe if we remembered a little more often that we're dangerous, that our words can cause pain, that our reactions can have horrible consequences for someone, then maybe there'd be just a little bit less pain, a little bit less suffering in this world.  Maybe the key isn't to change the world, but just to be there for one person at a time, to not destroy them carelessly as would be so easy.