A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 68

 

PHANCY LETTER

You… 
Lonely and Pathetic. Trolling for Attention.
Addicted to Porn, Drugs, Alcohol and, well…Anything really, to Soothe Your Pent Up Frustration.
You finally found someone to listen to your lies.
Those gut-wrenching “stories” of mistreatment–at the hands of your “hideous” wife. The one you claimed must have been Hell sent. You shared that you feared for your Life!
You followed me like a lost dog, licking my hands and begging me to never stop petting you. You brought me a bone…daily and nightly…but how was I to know that it, like you, was nothing but a tool?
Smoke and Mirrors. I began to see what YOU wanted me to see: Hope. Freedom. Adventure. Not to mention all the Sex a man would need from an adventurous woman like me.
You said you loved me. You complimented me on how much love I must yet have to give.
You were scared at times. So, I gave you space. But you would pull me in even closer–claiming that you needed ME to live.
How could I leave someone with so much grief and in so much pain? I hated that you were still married, but my defenses cracked and waned.
I didn’t want to love you. I fought those feelings–slapping them sober with the truth. There MUST be more to what you were telling me, so I stuck around praying for more time to dig and to sleuth.
You beat me to the punch and, soon, you began the decline. Silent treatments. Passive-aggressive jabs. When I brought things up, you claimed it was all in my mind.
Besides, you had a lot on your plate, right? Your divorce, Your emotions, Your claims of physical pain. My, my…what about Me? The fact that you now held me in disdain?
Instantaneously, you turned off EVERY ounce of charm. You strained to put on as much as a smile and seemed to revel in the harm.
You brought up a cruel sentiment, announcing that you KNEW how much it hurt my feelings. Yet, you would use it again and especially following what was supposed to be sexual healing.
What he Fuck was WRONG with you? I banged my head for answers. I logged in long hours online; nothing made sense and everything was fractured.
You, it turns out, are a Broken Toy. A Man Trapped by Whatever Happened While You Were Just a Boy. 
On that weekend in September, I met a man I called Handsome. And then I watched him die right in front of me. It was brutal. I didn’t even recognize his face. In less than 48 hours, he was gone, leaving horrible you to take his place.
I looked around and confirmed I wasn’t in the fifth dimension. I walked away from the madness, never again calling my gut into question. I loved Handsome–he was wonderful, warm and brilliant. Instead, it turned out, he was actually you…cold, hateful and distant.
I Am Free Now. Happier. Stronger. Fuelled by Love. Kissed by God Himself Because I Am His beloved. 
I Was Never Yours…
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5 thoughts on “A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 68”

  1. Hello Jennie. Your world is not over, just the facade of the relationship and who he claimed to be. It was all a giant hoax. Now Go on line, read everything you can, and look for the “gaps” within you: that’s where you’ll find the answers. He was an illusion that YOU needed. Now you can create a REAL you. Welcome to world of thrivers beyond narc abuse. Love and light. Teresa.

  2. How do I let go? My world is over…..wtf? just hit me? When do I wake up from this nightmare?

  3. A spectacular post: honest ( painfully relatable ) and strong. How long were you in a relationship with him?

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