From a literary perspective, insults are wonderful. On the stage, in film or on the page- we can take real delight in them. This is partly due to the way they reveal so much. In a few words, a whole context can be condensed before exploding into existence.
The best insult I ever recieved was one I got last week: "Don't try to cheer me up because you'll NEVER be able to make me happy!"
People do not always talk directly to each other. Sometimes that which is left unsaid can fester until things boil over. The insult then manifests itself like a beautiful plum of smoke.
With the insult in question there is so much going on. This person does not want to accept my friendship because she thinks I have bigger plans! There is also confusion here. There really is a difference between being concerned about someone and trying to work your way into someone else's life. Friendships should occur naturally. They should not be a product of manipulating plans. I am no Marquis de Sade.
The insult works because it tries to undermine my manhood. It's as if this person is saying, "You will never be man enough to please me." You have to admire how ingenious this is.
This has been a gift nonetheless. I perform best when I am under-estimated. I do not need anyone else's belief in order to push myself forward into the world. I have my own ideas and know my own mind.