Diary of a Sociopathic Stalker

Realization hits me in waves. I always manage to outsmart truth and reality, but sometimes it smacks me in the face and I have to sit in it for a moment or two. I’m sitting there now. None of it was real. How could it have been? There’s no chance. I gave it no chance to be real.  You never had one shred of honesty from me. Never one true acknowledgement that what you were experiencing was true, that I was on the other side of whatever anonymous account was befriending you, seducing you, attacking you, diagnosing you as schizophrenic, telling you to kill yourself. You think you know, but you don’t know you know. After all the gaslighting and victim blaming coming from every direction you will never respond in sincerity to, trust or believe anything coming from my passive aggressive, cowardly approach where I try to coerce and incite you into action, so I don’t have to take responsibility for anything that happens in a potential outcome. I see this now. I have seen it before, but I push

Funny, how when I Play by your rules you call it cheating and yell foul