もう憶えて居ないような相手が突然訪ねて来たら、私は会いません。
今の連絡先を教えて居ないということは、アドレスが変わったタイミングで行き違いでない限り、もう付き合いが終わった相手だからです。
2000年代のインターネットで散見されていた話なのですが、小学校や中学、高校の同級生が急に訪ねて来て「あなたが自分の本当の友人だった」と言うんだそうです。
おそらく何か変なマルチかなんかなんだと思うんですが、その体験をした人達はそれ以上要件を聞かなかったようで、相手の目的は一体何だったのか分かりません。
例えば、思い出して凄く凄く仲が良かった相手、またはお互いが心に記憶しているような、あまり大っぴらに付き合いがあった相手では無いけれど、やはり「ああ！ 元気だった？」と思わず駆け寄る相手。
それなら分かるんです。
未来の果てで訪ねて来るのは。
豊かな人生の再会ですよね。
けれど、言われても居たかな？ と言うような相手。
そんな人が急に訪ねて来るのは、何か相手だけに大きな問題が存在しているのでしょう。
私は人の縁が薄い人間なので、そもそもあの時期の私を誰か記憶していたとして、未来の果てだろうと災害が起こった後であろうと、誰も私に「元気だった？」と声を掛けないと思うんです。
ジロジロ無表情で見る私の目の中の凄まじい皮肉の色に気がつくから。
それでも暇に任せて、もしそんな人が訪ねて来たらどうするだろうか？
多くの私が理解している範囲で、大人はどうするのだろうか？
と考えたことがあります。
わりとあっさり回答が出たのですが。
大体オートロックに住んでいますので、呼び鈴が鳴ってインタフォンを見ると知らない人が立っている。
「どなたですか？」
「エナメル？ 私！ 憶えてる？ 同じクラスの！」
「・・・・ご用件は？」
で普通立ち去ると思うんですが、そういう相手は何か別の用か、その人だけの過去をめぐるロマンティックな旅に出ているので、帰らないと思うんです。
私は、相手がコミュニケーションが正常に取れそうなら、オートロックは開けずに、少し待ってて、降りて行くから。とインターフォンを切り、一階のエントランスまで降りていきます。
そして相手が危ない状態で無いのなら、スマートフォンで会話をします。
自分の顔を見せて。
「どうしたの？ 大丈夫？」
「何が？」
「何かあったの？ 変なことしているよ、あなた」
そう伝えて、
「私が変わってるだけかもしれないけれど（私はいつでもどこでも外れている立ち位置）、普通、こんな忘れていて当然の相手を、はるばる訪ねて来たりしないよ。」
「何か騙されてるんだと思うよ。帰ってちゃんと食事して休みなよ、じゃあね」
とだけ言って部屋に戻ります。
本当に知らない相手か、どうしても思い出せない相手なら、人違いです、と言ってインタフォンを切ります。
自分の人生だけでは自分は主人公ですが、他の人は自分の脇役では無いんです。
よく分からない「大切な何かを迎えに行く再生アトラクション」の登場人物に勝手にされるのは迷惑だし、気持ちが悪いばかりです。
これが何故か大人になって、社会に出て何年も経過しているのに分からない人がたまにいますよね。
この価値観の出所って何なんでしょうね。
心が弱って居たり、参って居たりする人に、妙なやり方を吹き込んで、金を使わせて他人の冷たさを味あわせる為に、良くこんなことを思い付きますよね。
凄まじいまでの人間への悪意を感じます。
その人へではなく、人間全体への憎悪を感じます。
何か慣れて居ない言動をする時、相手がいる場合は、このケースでは明るい気持ちになれる人は何人いるか、とカウントした方が良いですよね。
これについては私は10年以上考え続けてきましたので、私の考えを伝え聞いた人達が良い風にゆっくり変わって行かれるのを、けっこう実直に願って居ます。
食事を取り、ゆっくり眠り、少し元気が出て来たら部屋を掃除し、あなたがあなたご自身を幸せにしてあげて下さい。
エナメル
・
・
・
If someone I don’t even remember anymore suddenly shows up at my door, I won’t see them.
The fact that I haven’t given them my current contact information means—unless there was a mix-up when my address changed—that our relationship has ended.
This is a story that used to pop up here and there on the internet in the 2000s: apparently, elementary, middle, or high school classmates would suddenly show up and say, “You were my true friend.”
I suspect it’s probably some kind of weird multi-level marketing scheme or something, but the people who experienced this apparently didn’t ask any further questions, so I have no idea what the other person’s actual purpose was.
For example, someone you remember being incredibly close to, or someone you both hold dear in your hearts—not someone you were openly close with, but someone you’d instinctively run up to and say, “Oh! How have you been?”
That I can understand.
Someone who comes to visit from the far reaches of the future.
That would be a reunion that enriches life, wouldn’t it?
But what about someone you’d look at and think, “Did I even know that person?”
If someone like that suddenly shows up, it probably means they’re facing a major problem of their own.
I’m not the type to form deep connections with people, so even if someone did remember me from back then—whether from the far reaches of the future or after a disaster—I don’t think anyone would ever say, “How have you been?” to me.
They’d notice the fierce sarcasm in my eyes as I stare back at them expressionlessly.
Still, just for the sake of curiosity, I’ve wondered: what would I do if someone like that actually came to visit?
To the best of my understanding, what would an adult do in that situation?
I’ve thought about it before.
The answer came to me pretty easily, though.
Since I live in a building with an automatic lock system, the doorbell rings, and when I look at the intercom, there’s a stranger standing there.
“Who is it?”
“Enamel? It’s me! Do you remember me? We were in the same class!”
“...What do you want?”
Normally, I think they’d just leave, but people like that are either there for some other reason or have embarked on a romantic journey down memory lane, so I don’t think they’d go away.
If it seems like we can communicate normally, I don’t open the automatic lock. Instead, I tell them to wait a moment while I go downstairs, hang up the intercom, and head down to the first-floor entrance.
Then, if they don’t seem to be in any danger, I talk to them on my smartphone.
“Show me your face.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did something happen? You’re acting weird.”
After saying that,
“Maybe I’m just weird (I’m always on the outside, no matter where I am), but normally, you wouldn’t come all this way to visit someone you’d naturally have forgotten about.”
“I think you’re being tricked into something. Go home, eat a proper meal, and get some rest. Bye.”
I say just that and go back to my room.
If it’s truly someone I don’t know, or someone I just can’t remember, I’ll say, “You’ve got the wrong person,” and hang up the intercom.
In my own life, I may be the protagonist, but other people aren’t just supporting characters in my story.
It’s annoying and downright creepy to be arbitrarily cast as a character in some incomprehensible “reincarnation attraction where you go to welcome something important.”
For some reason, there are still people who don’t understand this, even though they’ve been adults and out in the working world for years.
I wonder where this mindset comes from.
People often come up with ideas like this to instill strange behaviors in those who are emotionally vulnerable or at their wits’ end—to make them spend money and experience the coldness of others.
I sense an almost terrifying level of malice toward humanity.
It’s not hatred toward that specific person, but hatred toward humanity as a whole.
The fact that I haven’t given them my current contact information means—unless there was a mix-up when my address changed—that our relationship has ended.
This is a story that used to pop up here and there on the internet in the 2000s: apparently, elementary, middle, or high school classmates would suddenly show up and say, “You were my true friend.”
I suspect it’s probably some kind of weird multi-level marketing scheme or something, but the people who experienced this apparently didn’t ask any further questions, so I have no idea what the other person’s actual purpose was.
For example, someone you remember being incredibly close to, or someone you both hold dear in your hearts—not someone you were openly close with, but someone you’d instinctively run up to and say, “Oh! How have you been?”
That I can understand.
Someone who comes to visit from the far reaches of the future.
That would be a reunion that enriches life, wouldn’t it?
But what about someone you’d look at and think, “Did I even know that person?”
If someone like that suddenly shows up, it probably means they’re facing a major problem of their own.
I’m not the type to form deep connections with people, so even if someone did remember me from back then—whether from the far reaches of the future or after a disaster—I don’t think anyone would ever say, “How have you been?” to me.
They’d notice the fierce sarcasm in my eyes as I stare back at them expressionlessly.
Still, just for the sake of curiosity, I’ve wondered: what would I do if someone like that actually came to visit?
To the best of my understanding, what would an adult do in that situation?
I’ve thought about it before.
The answer came to me pretty easily, though.
Since I live in a building with an automatic lock system, the doorbell rings, and when I look at the intercom, there’s a stranger standing there.
“Who is it?”
“Enamel? It’s me! Do you remember me? We were in the same class!”
“...What do you want?”
Normally, I think they’d just leave, but people like that are either there for some other reason or have embarked on a romantic journey down memory lane, so I don’t think they’d go away.
If it seems like we can communicate normally, I don’t open the automatic lock. Instead, I tell them to wait a moment while I go downstairs, hang up the intercom, and head down to the first-floor entrance.
Then, if they don’t seem to be in any danger, I talk to them on my smartphone.
“Show me your face.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did something happen? You’re acting weird.”
After saying that,
“Maybe I’m just weird (I’m always on the outside, no matter where I am), but normally, you wouldn’t come all this way to visit someone you’d naturally have forgotten about.”
“I think you’re being tricked into something. Go home, eat a proper meal, and get some rest. Bye.”
I say just that and go back to my room.
If it’s truly someone I don’t know, or someone I just can’t remember, I’ll say, “You’ve got the wrong person,” and hang up the intercom.
In my own life, I may be the protagonist, but other people aren’t just supporting characters in my story.
It’s annoying and downright creepy to be arbitrarily cast as a character in some incomprehensible “reincarnation attraction where you go to welcome something important.”
For some reason, there are still people who don’t understand this, even though they’ve been adults and out in the working world for years.
I wonder where this mindset comes from.
People often come up with ideas like this to instill strange behaviors in those who are emotionally vulnerable or at their wits’ end—to make them spend money and experience the coldness of others.
I sense an almost terrifying level of malice toward humanity.
It’s not hatred toward that specific person, but hatred toward humanity as a whole.
When you find yourself acting or speaking in a way that feels unnatural—especially when others are around—it’s a good idea to count how many people in that situation would actually feel uplifted by your behavior.
I’ve been thinking about this for over ten years now, so I sincerely hope that those who’ve heard my thoughts will gradually change for the better.
Eat a meal, get a good night’s sleep, and once you start feeling a little better, clean your room—please make yourself happy.
Enamel
I’ve been thinking about this for over ten years now, so I sincerely hope that those who’ve heard my thoughts will gradually change for the better.
Eat a meal, get a good night’s sleep, and once you start feeling a little better, clean your room—please make yourself happy.
Enamel
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
