Quote from Gen Hayashi 林建融 on September 27, 2026, 21:22

It started with something completely ordinary. An old friend and I happened to reconnect in a group chat, and before long, the conversation drifted back to our college days. We started talking about the old times, the ridiculous things we used to do, the late nights, the people we knew, the fun we had, and how strangely familiar everything still felt. We laughed about how much time had passed, because somehow it still felt like we had only just graduated yesterday.

Eventually, the group conversation became quieter, but before we went our separate ways, we decided that it would be nice to actually catch up properly, so the two of us had a video call. It was one of those conversations where you start with, "So, how have you been?" and suddenly realize you have years of stories to catch up on. We talked about life, work, old memories, and the people we used to know, and for a while it felt like we had somehow stepped back into our younger years.

We continued talking privately through video call. That's when the conversation unexpectedly became more personal. Somewhere in the middle of our exchange, he suddenly said that it was nice to be able to talk to someone once in a while. I found that comment a little strange because I knew he had people around him, so I asked him why he felt that way. Surely there was his wife, his children, and the people around him at home to talk to.

His response came with a much heavier sigh. He said, "Not really."

That was when I realized there was more behind what he had said.

He started telling me about how things had been at home, particularly the way conversations between him and his wife had changed over time. There wasn't some dramatic marriage crisis or one huge argument that had caused everything. Instead, it was something much quieter that had gradually become mentally exhausting for him. Whenever he tried to talk, his wife would often interrupt him halfway through. Sometimes she would immediately comment on what he was saying, almost as though she had already predicted what he was going to say before he had finished saying it.

Other times, she would suddenly need something, ask one of the children for something, or change the subject because something else had caught her attention. He told me that this wasn't an isolated incident and that it had been happening for quite some time. He would be in the middle of explaining something, only for one of the children to interrupt and ask their mother about something completely unrelated. She would respond to them, the conversation would move somewhere else, and sometimes they would simply walk away while he was still halfway through what he had been saying.

What bothered him wasn't that people occasionally interrupted. Everyone interrupts sometimes, especially when you have children and a busy household. What bothered him was the repeated pattern and the feeling that he was expected to listen when others were speaking, while his own thoughts could be abandoned halfway through without anyone seeming to notice.

He told me that he often lets his wife finish whatever she wants to say, even when he may not necessarily be interested in the subject. He gives her the space to finish because, to him, that's simply what you do when someone is talking to you. Over time, though, he had started wondering why he wasn't receiving the same courtesy.

That led him to another question. Was there something behind her behavior? Could constant interruption, suddenly changing subjects, becoming distracted, or seeming unable to stay with a conversation be a symptom of something psychological or neurological, or was it simply a matter of being inconsiderate?

There are certain conditions in which behaviors like frequent interruption, difficulty waiting for another person to finish speaking, blurting things out, and distractibility can occur. ADHD, for example, can include impulsivity and difficulty sustaining attention, and these can sometimes affect conversations. However, those behaviors alone don't establish a diagnosis. A psychiatrist would need to look at the broader pattern, including how long the behaviors have existed, whether they occur in different situations, whether there are other symptoms, and whether they are causing significant difficulties in the person's life.

So I told him I wouldn't try to diagnose his wife based on what he was telling me. There could be many explanations for what he was experiencing. She might not realize how often she interrupts him. She might genuinely believe she already understands what he is trying to say. She might simply be distracted by everything happening around her, particularly with children. It could also be a conversational habit that has developed over the years without her being conscious of it.

But regardless of the reason, I could understand why it was affecting him.

When someone repeatedly gets interrupted, eventually they can start anticipating the interruption themselves. They begin shortening what they say, abandoning thoughts halfway through, or deciding that something isn't worth explaining because they already know they won't get to finish. That's when a communication problem can quietly turn into loneliness.

I told him that I didn't think he should simply keep quiet about it.

Not because he needed to confront his wife or accuse her of disrespecting him, and certainly not because I had enough information to judge their marriage. I just felt that if something had been bothering him for this long, he owed it to himself and to the relationship to actually talk about it.

I suggested that he choose a calm moment, rather than bringing it up immediately after being interrupted, and explain the effect it was having on him instead of making it about what she was doing wrong. Something as simple as telling her, "When I get interrupted halfway through talking, I sometimes feel like what I'm saying isn't important. I'm not asking you to agree with everything I say, but I'd really like the chance to finish what I'm trying to tell you."

There is a difference between accusing someone and explaining how their behavior makes you feel. The first can make people defensive, while the second at least allows them to understand something they may not have realized they were doing.

I also reminded him that his wife may have her own perspective on the situation. Perhaps she doesn't see the interruptions the same way he does. Perhaps she has become accustomed to communicating that way. Perhaps there is something else happening in their relationship that neither of them has properly addressed. He won't know unless they actually talk about it.

Keeping quiet might avoid an uncomfortable conversation today, but it doesn't necessarily make the discomfort disappear. Sometimes it simply pushes the problem further into the future, while the person who feels unheard gradually says less and less.

What struck me most about the whole conversation was how different it was from where we had started.

A simple group chat had taken us back to college, to the late nights, the laughter, and the feeling that life was still wide open in front of us. We had both joked about how quickly the years had disappeared, and for a moment we were those younger versions of ourselves again. Then, after our video call and a few private messages afterward, the conversation had somehow moved into something much more serious.

It made me think about how loneliness doesn't necessarily mean having nobody around you. Sometimes loneliness is having a wife, children, family, and a house full of people, yet still feeling as though there isn't anyone who will simply let you finish a thought.

We often think that communication means talking, but perhaps the more important part is allowing someone else enough space to finish what they are trying to say. Listening isn't just waiting for your turn to speak. It is showing the other person that what they are saying is worth staying for.

I encouraged my friend not to disappear into silence. If something is hurting him, he should allow his wife to know about it, even if that conversation feels uncomfortable. Maybe she will understand immediately, maybe she won't, and maybe the two of them will discover that there is much more behind their communication problems than either of them realized.

But at least he will have said something.

And sometimes that's where fixing a relationship begins, not with having the perfect answer, but with finally telling someone, calmly and honestly, "I still have something to say. Please let me finish."