It's one of the harder ideas to take on board if we're modest and kind people, which, of course, we are.
It feels sentimental and saccharine, something that someone brings out to lighten our mood, not because it's true, but because they want to cheer us up.
We were let go not because we're odd, not because we're unsavory, not because we didn't earn enough, or don't have the right sort of hair or skin, or are bad in bed, or snored, or are a bit stupid, or have questionable taste in clothes and music.
But magically, because we were, of all things, too good, too kind, too thoughtful, too loyal, too marvelous.
Something about us was too amazing to bear.
We were like a resplendent sun that can't bear to be looked at.
This kind of thing doesn't make much sense, especially in the middle of a typical night at the moment.
Can a restaurant be too tasty, a hotel too beautiful, a coat too well cut?
We're just weird and have probably been since the start.
No one really likes us.
