Difficult People

What is so utterly frustrating about them is that you never can tell how much you are in the right and they are in the wrong. I would never think about this sort of thing for someone who is being reasonable. With reasonable men and women, I must guard my dignity with restraint. I would easily discover myself if I entertained unabashed feelings of superiority towards reasonable people. But towards difficult, unreflective, there's-always-a-problem sorts of people, I feel justified to do so...and because I do, immediately cannot dismiss the nagging question...

Am I so blind myself, that I cannot see my own vice? Is it pride? Impatience? Lack of love? Combativeness? Terseness? Etc.?

How is it that just when I am feeling comfortable that I am on strong grounds to criticize, I am yanked back, as if by a collar around my neck? Why must the ethic of interpersonal relations devolve into an endless cascade of parenetic "What are you going to do about it?'s" When do I get the satisfaction of vindication without the obligation to change myself? Whence the difference between agape and masochism?