Everyone has a good idea what it’s like to be the victim, whether through personal experience, other’s stories, or even social media. But what about who is on the other side? I did not want to be toxic. I did not ask to be so virulent, to be referred to as narcissistic by the very ones I love. It’s getting lonely over here, and my black hole of a heart is caving into itself again. I can’t help how I am, and it’s not very easy to control. Am I destined to a life in solitude?
Throwing it back in my face doesn’t help it either. But I deserve this, right? I dare you to scout me out, and say it to my face, while my vacant eyes trace the outline of your lips. For someone who’s as cold as I am, I am quite sensitive. Maybe you regret our entire relationship, but I just wish I had the strength to walk away. So keep sitting there, drenched in your animosity. Create a satire with the spotlight on me through ambiguous yet malicious reposts, all of which are at least a little bit veracious. If you’re trying to hurt me, it’s not in the way you’re intending. As horrible as I am, I will never be meaner to someone other than myself, so reading what you have to say is, dare I say, satisfying.