Letter to the Mid-range narcissist.
I will never be able to forget the day when you as you set in motion your empathic supernova detonation scheme. I searched your face for anything that could resemble caring, only to find your delight and satisfaction. A man fully fuelled by my devastation also eager to slip away to the arms of your secret lover. You were remarkably successful, triggering explosions and implosions including uncontrollable trembling that lasted days. Our life together built upon stories and excuses dissolved away leaving only rubble of facts in the wake of the wreckage as my world came tumbling in.
A search for an explanation to your rapid 180° shift and undeniable delight in my pain led me to the words “discard and replace.” For the first time, I found an explanation for the behaviours that had beleaguered me for over a decade. That first peek into our reality, so different from my flowery belief, yet so obvious to my intuition.
You are a master at blame shifting, plausible deniability, future faking, triangulation, word salad, and gas lighting. Although I struggled to accept the truth, dependable cycles of narcissist behaviour remained irrefutable and could no longer be denied.
Thank you to your Dirty Empath Marriage Breaker who kept you distracted while I built my new life. We both know that she could never replace …. Me. How disappointing it must have been for you that I avoided triangulation.
Thank you for the long cold fury silent treatments, which allowed me to interact with others and reset my expectations. Those long pauses made your behaviour much more irrational each time you hoovered.
Truly, thank you for wanting to keep a reputation as the “good guy,” which kept you following the law and covering my expenses until I recovered from illness and found a new job. That support may have exposed me to further provocations, but it was a life line that I appreciated tremendously.
I thank you for the malicious hoovers, which helped me to separate you from the person you pretended to be during our golden periods. You once said something important. You said that I am not a victim, which both thrilled and terrified you. I suppose that this was the differentiator in our end game.
In closing, I address not you but instead the golden period ghost: my former best friend, the man I once thought you were, who would want to see me thrive, and revel joyfully in the triumph over you. It’s time to close this chapter. I did it Baby!
Anonymous Super Empath