Is my happiness and joy in this life all built on the suffering of others? If it's such happiness and joy, then what does it mean to me if others aren't happy, and I'm foolishly laughing alone, only causing everyone around me to be hurt?
Reflecting on everything I've done with my wife, there's always been an unresolvable disquiet in my heart. Did I truly experience the consequences for all the harm and choices once made? Have I really paid the price required by those events?
In truth, I'm utterly useless. Since the day I hid my wife, only I know how many mistakes I've truly made. Yet, in others' eyes, it's always been seen as my reckless willfulness. I believed it was all correct, repeatedly imposing what I thought was right on others. But how could it really be correct in their eyes? My father chose to stay silent. Do they truly know nothing about these matters?