A Letter To The Narcissist – No. 32



Dear A,

I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer.

Those were my last words to you. After yet another all nighter of flaring tempers and cruel accusations, you had at last resorted to violently abusing me, appeasing the monster within, finally letting loose upon me the raging fury that I’ve through the years come to know as the essence of you. I was expecting it. It was a matter of time I guess. Still, I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer after that. Truth be told, I never knew.

Your nickname for me was a projection. You chose to name me after the savage storm that whirled rampantly around us the first time we met, whipping strands of my long red hair into your face, making your coat flap in the strong gusts of wind, forcing me to hold on to you tight from the very first. You became the uncontrollable whirlwind spiralling violently into my life that night, and through fleeting moments of hesitation I sensed your primitivism, your absence of a cultured layer; I was appalled at the darkness of you, I was enchanted with your choosing of me. The overwhelming sensation of needing imminent escape was there too, I knew in my heart what you were; I moved even closer; you see, I had been looking for you too. Therefore I willingly invited the chaos of you into my life, the random blowing and shattering of me into millions of shards and tiny pieces; the storm gaining strength and then again, loosing force, closing in on me and leaving me far behind; again and painfully again. It was all there from the start. I somehow knew. Yours was the kind of icy wind that would chill me to the bone. Yours was the kind of ferocious storm that would leave nothing behind. Inexplicable, raw, true to its destructive core.

We were both addicts you and I. You to power. Me to pain. A perfect fit of damaged goods, formed out of the same abusive clay, differing only in how we coped with our childhood wounds. The predator and the victim. Together we set about the daring journey of unraveling our past, reliving our twisted paths, moving deliciously slowly through the intricate steps of the glorious dance of complete destruction, savouring the sweet taste of pure annihilation, turning into flames and ashes as we progressed, uncannily repeating the patterns we both knew so well.

You unsettled me deep within, you touched the untouched. You burnt a scorching hole in my safe existence, stealing my laughter and my joy, tearing me apart, punishing me harshly, controlling my innermost being, putting an all too high a price on love and pulling the strings of life and death in our eternal struggle.

I readily offered myself to you at the altar. Submissively I shivered with pain and pleasure in front of you, giving up my soul to the emptiness of you, loosing sight of all times but the present, crawling in the dust, mortally wounded by your horrendous assaults, bellowing in the wind from the pain of it all, not making the slightest sound as my dry lips repeatedly tried to form those devastated sentences that consisted of my begging and pleading with you.

You were my destroyer, I surrendered to you; you were my saviour, forcing me to kneel in front of the pain of the past. You punished me for what was in your nature, I felt gloriously alive reliving the highs and the lows of my childhood, being able to truly feel again, finally finding the love that is the only love I know of. So who actually victimised whom? Who was the parasite, the emotional vampire; who was the abuser and who was the abused? Who fed off whom? Who sought redemption from whom? You who could not feel, I who could only feel with you? You who will always be that vast empty space in universe, sucking all object matter into you; I who will treat my lessons learned like precious pearls, wearing them close to my heart, moving on eventually with more insight, trying to undo the damage of the past?

It’s all so quiet here now. Even ferocious storms will eventually abate, the utter calm in the aftermath of our viscous tosses and turns is in a way peaceful to me. I miss you still. I still wake up with the thought of you, I still fall asleep with you on my mind. But my all consuming need for you is gone.

I don’t forgive you. I never will. You wounded me deeply. You hurt me irreparably. You poisoned my heart, you taught me to hate.

I forgive you. I always will. You brought me back to my beginnings, made me confront my fears. You taught me what love is not. You set me free.

You on the other hand will never be free. My cage can be opened through self awareness, your bars will never be removed. I choose through my emphatic nature to search for happiness now; that is not a choice for you to make. You will be forever pacing there in your self made imprisonment, your vision clouded, the beauty of life and love escaping you.

I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer. Those words still echo within me having now finally let go.


23 thoughts on “A Letter To The Narcissist – No. 32

  1. K says:

    Your letter reminds me of Wuthering Heights and the insatiable and tempestuous love that Catherine and Heathcliff shared for one another. Their stormy passion and fierce need to merge and become one is absolutely breathtaking. That dangerous, all consuming and fiery lust impels us to disappear into another; forsaking our soul for a union doomed by violence and discord. The addiction is so powerful that we lose ourselves completely and when the storm finally passes, we can no longer hold on and are compelled to let go. The icy wind and chaos has faded and it is quiet and calm in the aftermath. And you are finally free.

    1. robins359 says:

      Wow! That was beautifully put. Once again, I am in awe of how many magnificent writers there are on here. So jealous!

      1. K says:

        Thank you! All I could think about was Wuthering Heights and how it ended so badly for Catherine and Heathcliff. The PBS version with Tom Hardy staring as Heathcliff and Charlotte Riley as Catherine was awesome and I forgot; Rick from the Walking Dead played Edgar Linton.

        1. robins359 says:

          Thank you, I will have to look that version up!

    2. Catherine says:

      Oh yes, Wuthering Heights. I love that novel. I haven’t read it for many years, but I should reread it now. I’m a hopeless romantic, always was. And I do crave the drama I grew up with. And even though I’ve had some fairly normal relationships before, being in the midst of that raging storm of loving him is the closest I’ve come to finding myself by strangely enough completely loosing myself and my identity.

  2. Catherine says:

    Thank you so much HG for posting the letter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart to all you amazing, strong, emphatic, witty and wonderful women and men here for your kind words, your wisdom and your helpful insights. I feel blessed having found this blog, all the great articles I can relate to, hauntingly and poetically written; all the vivid, painful and blessed comments made here.

    It’s been a complete revelation and a life saver if any to me, realising that so many of us here come from the same narcissistic upbringing. I never ever knew how to put words to my childhood or my relationship in this way before, I’m a master at compartmentalising my life, shutting off when things get too bad, but the final connection of the dots is what makes knowledge a supreme weapon in the quest for inner peace and serenity I guess.

    And as to the letter I know it would only be fuel to him and he won’t get to read it. Even if it had been sent, I’m not at all sure he would have read it. He never was interested in my writing, in me as a person, it was all a one way street leading to him and his needs. This one’s for me, like I guess the rest of my life is going to be from now on.

    Thanks again!

    1. narc affair says:

      Ty for sharing Catherine! You have a beautiful way with words and i really could see myself in so much of what you wrote. Youre right it wouldve been wasted on the narc. It wouldve either been negative fuel or totally escape him in understanding or accepting the reality of it.
      I also find it very therapeutic in reading these letters and its an interesting twist that some are anonymous and we’d never know who wrote them. Its an unbiased way to read peoples experiences and thoughts and imo draws us closer having shared the same type of abuse.
      One of the things im most grateful for and the most positive are the victims ive met. Theyve been some of the most beautiful kind people ive ever come across. Good can come from bad experiences and my glass is more than half full 🙂

      1. Catherine says:

        Thank you narc affair!
        I agree. It’s therapeutic to be here, knowing that we all share the same experiences. It helps in all ways possible, I’m immensely grateful for that. The introspection I’m capable of here I don’t think I could find anywhere else. It’s all part of the anonymity and the shared quest for knowledge and healing.
        And yes, good will come of this. For the first time in a long time I feel positive about that.

  3. narc affair says:

    We were both addicts you and i. You to power. Me to pain…wow this is very telling of the narcissistic duo. Victims dont of course want pain but they are caught up in the pain of their past and dont realise they gravitate to the “familiar”. The conscience strives to resolve what needs to be resolved within. You can run but you cant hide from yourself. Whats there will always be there until confronted. Narcissism is the best example of this. The hurt and pain is there and the narc runs from it only a few strides ahead. Fuel keeps their pace up but they live in fear of themselves and what is inside that they cannot bear to face and heal. We on the other hand can go thru the storm of narc abuse and come out wiser abd stronger.
    Your letter was so beautifully written and describes the stormy dance between abuser and victim. In the end only one is free while the other remains a victim of thrmselves. Face that storm and all it has to teach you.

  4. Tappan Zee says:

    We were both addicts you and I. You to power. Me to pain.

    Absolutely get that and all the chaos. The push pull. The contradictions, the (what seems) like mutual abuse (it’s not) and the self doubt. The sense of martyrdom. Sacrifice. Self blame. As if the abuser was a bystander to our own self torture. No, They chose it. The activated it. Precipitated it. Cheered us on to our own demise. This letter reminds me even more that our (or at least my own) emotional thinking cons me into taking undo responsibility for the pain and abuse. No. We simply showed up. Abuse served us. We sat at its alter, yes. Worshipped it even. Still. Not ok.

  5. Your description of your personal storm is so vivid, I can feel it. Your awareness is amazing, and I wish you continued peace.

  6. Jahprincess says:

    Powerful depuction of the ambivalence and duality one experiences In a narcissistic relationship.

  7. Caroline says:

    You write beautifully about your journey into and out of pain. It’s powerful – and so are you! Thanks so much for sharing.

  8. Cordelia says:

    i love how Catherine builds her entire narrative around the concept of a storm and yet this piece, the final word, is so tranquil, as if the storm has passed. While there’s devastation there is an obvious chance to start anew. It’s exquisitely written and I’m impressed with her ability to provide so little fuel and yet it was so easy to feel the author’s depth of emotion. Wow.

  9. Overthinker says:

    Brilliant touched on some aspects of the submissive nature of some victims which has never brought up before but brilliant in every way

  10. robins359 says:

    What a hauntingly, beautiful picture you have painted with your words. You have such a gift. I would give anything to be able to express myself in how I feel, the way have done here. Thank you so much for sharing your gift.

  11. Patricia J says:

    This is beautiful. It is how I feel, how I felt. Yet, if given this this letter to the NARC, WOULD IT BE FUEL?

  12. Freedom45 says:

    Wow !!! This letter has really touched me , I identified with this so much . Thank you for sharing .

  13. Super Empath says:

    I doubt he reads it!

  14. angela says:

    i like this letter..i see myself in this words too..i knew he was dark from the first moment but i choose stay with him..until i have not more to give him

  15. Kiava says:

    Stunning. Accurate. Beautiful. This gave my soul chills.

  16. Noname says:

    Staying among all of those ruins, you keep the most important thing in your hands – victory.

    You won that war, Catherine. You found yourself finally. I saw how hard it was for you. I felt your pain. I felt your strength.

    You don’t feel it now, but when you sort everything out and clean all that mess finally, you’ll feel the incredible relief, joy and serenity. It is so overwhelming and pleasant feeling. Mmm…

    Congratulations and my best wishes to you.

  17. Patricia says:

    Oh this is so good! I relate to all of this.

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