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…

3 thoughts on “A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 68

  1. Caron says:

    I still struggle with why. The world will, quite on its own, give you moments in life that make you think Heaven can’t be better than this, and also moments that make you think hell can’t be worse than this. Then there are these people who embody both and can’t stand the simple and peaceful times between the extremes, and who can’t see how messed up they are.

    This is a great letter. Hopefully you have more moments than not where you are just glad not to have a narcissist in your life.

  2. Leigh says:

    I could have wrote this letter. I can’t believe how relatable it is to my situation. He’s starting to hoover and I’m trying to maintain my strength. This letter helps give me the strength I need ward him off. Thank you.

  3. Joanne says:

    Wow wow wow. Again, so many pieces I can relate to. It makes my stomach wrench to know how alike they are in their behaviors and the treatments they deploy. But it’s also comforting confirmation that it is because of who (what) THEY ARE, versus where WE failed. Thank you for sharing ❤️

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