Shoot You Down
A plaintive wail which I often hear is along the lines of,
“Why do you always have to shoot me down? I give you everything you could ever want. Why can’t you just be happy with that?”
As usual you delude yourself with such a statement. You do not give me everything I could ever want. You think that you do, but that is the self-centredness that you often exhibit creeping in once again. You certainly care, I will grant you that, but you make the mistake of assuming what you do is what we want. What we want is fuel. I know what comes next.
“I always told you how much I loved you, I admired and complimented you often and frequently. How much more could I make you feel good about yourself?”
Therein lies the problem. No matter how good your intentions and how frequent your worship of me, my kind and me will always grow tired of it. We have heard your kind words and seen your appreciative gestures too many times and it, well, it just does not do it for us anymore. I am sure that you emotionally in touch people would be the first to complain if a long established partner engages in the same routine in the bedroom. It does not hit the spot anymore does it? Well, it is just the same for us. You may ultimately accept that things cool somewhat in the bedroom and I know from what I have seen and heard that you trade this passion off (although not always, there are some sexual thrill seekers amongst your kind) for other qualities that you find attractive – humour, companionship, security, warmth, good parental skills, intelligence and such like. There is no hope for any such trade with us. We only want one thing from our relationship. Fuel. We do not care (ultimately) how good-looking you are, how much of a whore you are between the sheets, how wonderful a mother you may be, what a raconteur you are or how much you earn. We will never accept those things or anything else as a substitute for fuel. True enough, the more aged of our kind sometimes accept these things when their need for fuel diminishes but that need never goes away. They may decide to accept these attributes alongside largely positive fuel, but they will still need to stir things up from time to time.
That is not going to happen with me. I am at the peak of my powers and therefore my need for fuel remains substantial. There can be no substitute for it at all and nor can there be any co-existence between the provision of fuel and other attributes. It is fuel or nothing. In order to achieve this I have to shoot you down because once that is done you start to flow with the potent negative fuel and my cravings start to be addressed. You can beg and plead with me, you can point out how you will always only ever have eyes for me, you can express your love, desire, adoration and admiration on an hourly basis but there comes a point when it just does not have that sweetness anymore. It is then that I pull the handgun from my jacket, attach the silencer and fire several vitriolic bullets into you. Your pain from these wounding bullets gives me the fuel that I need and therefore your shooting is necessary. Moreover, it is your punishment for letting me down. You really ought to be capable of pleasing me the whole time but so far, all that I have chosen have failed. That is why I now expect you to fail and have that gun to hand at all times.
When I shoot you down, I become more powerful as the fuel flows from you. Moreover, it is easy to get someone to admire and adore. Those reactions come naturally to your kind. It is far harder to extract tears, anger, frustration and regret from the empath. Managing to do so imbues your emotional reaction with greater potency, your fuel becomes supercharged and this is what we want. We cannot shoot you down from the beginning, we need you stood on a pedestal first, after all, you present as such an inviting target then and your toppling as the bullets slam into you becomes all the more satisfying.
I sense your dismay as you read this. You had hoped that by keeping me sweet and onside through a dazzling and tireless display of love, affection and admiration you had hoped to avoid such an attack. Your concerns should not be absolute. There is an upside you know. Firstly, when we find someone else after we have shot you down, keep in mind they will eventually be riddled with bullet holes no matter how happy we both appear at first. It is coming to them as it came to you. I am sure that makes you feel a little better doesn’t it? Secondly, there is a huge saving grace.
We never shoot you dead.
We need you alive so we can raise you up again as we re-load.
5 thoughts on “Shoot You Down”
We cannot shoot you down from the beginning, we need you stood on a pedestal first, after all, you present as such an inviting target then and your toppling as the bullets slam into you becomes all the more satisfying.
That is beyond cruel! So very sad 😞! Really there are no words to really describe how utterly evil that is. Enjoying the fall of someone and their pain. That’s it! Enjoying someone else’s pain. That is actually something I myself cannot and will not ever enjoy. The fact that is fuel for your kind…puts me beyond bewilderment and makes no sense to my brain at all. Mind blowing at best! Something like the black hole….! Utterly disturbing.
He has the village wife, me the monetary resource wife, and he’s working on another. He’s allowed 4. Plus all the side gigs who don’t usually know he’s married. In one of his rare moments of truth he said “I am my dick”. What a sad thing to be.
I was first. I know what we all face. I know who the devil is. In our language there is a word daman. Means master, protector. It sounds a lot like demon. It feels like demon.
It does sound like demon. You’re in our thoughts Leslie and we are hoping that you will win this battle.
This is reassuring. Thank you.
Hello, H.G. Tudor.
Well, in my specific case, I once said to my narcissist: “I don’t wish this on you, nor on my worst enemy”.
And I still think the same, after the appearance of my replacement as IPPS.
I really think he suffered the same or worse than me, although I doubt it. It’s not to feel some kind of satisfaction, the only thing I feel is compassion because he was unwary like me. And that’s the price we pay… Pain and suffering in the hands of a sadist.