Hubris

The sheer gall it took for you to text me, as if you knew me, as if you had a right, as if you were someone who would matter to me. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I still find the memory of it so outrageously maddening. How inappropriate of you! How presumptuous! To make me feel so uncomfortable and cornered. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU?!

So, I took the lemons you tossed at my head and I made lemonade. I made the most of your unwanted attentions by turning you into a character in a book, objectifying you, toying with your emotions. I’m the cat! you’re the mouse! Better run little rodent run. I don’t care if your smile was nice and your eyes were pretty, and dat a$$ tho! I didn’t ask for your attention; I only came to need it and crave it like a drug after you forced it on me.

Oh Dear, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?!? The never-ending flip flopping. I can never seem to get my head screwed on right! They say children who experience trauma at a young age suffer from arrested development. I can never really seem to make up my mind about any feeling or idea. I feel all the feelings at once and can’t get settled down!! I’m like an inconsolable toddler. Sometimes I’ll start mellowing out then a gust of wind will blow a lock of hair out of place and I’m howling again like a beagle left home alone! I try to reign it in. I’m terrible with emotional regulation!!

I just read all those old texts I sent you and it’s triggered me! I was trying so hard, all for naught. Six years later and I’m not better off than I was before. Even today, I’m still messaging you with dozens of accounts telling you I love you, I hate you, please call off your legal investigation, you obviously need to be medicated, you're the true sociopath, but even so I'm still your dedicated soulmate... I use anything personal you’ve told me about yourself as a weapon against you, try to make you ashamed of yourself. I have not grown at all in these last six years. And even more, what I think are your weaknesses you use to your advantage. You’re not ashamed of yourself in the same way I am of myself. When I try to tear your self-image down it just fortifies your dedication to keeping yourself safe from me. I AM SCREWING EVERYTHING UP! I thought 2024 would be our year but I’m still just a child and the only kindness you could ever give me is of that for a baby in diapers, crapping myself, pathetically in need of assistance to survive. I hate this. I HATE YOU!