You are nowhere near sorry enough.
You did not merely hurt me. Give yourself more credit, my doll my dear my darling the former light of my life. You manipulated gaslit abused and put me in a position where I nearly lost my sense of self self-esteem self-worth my life. Had I been less fortunate in the best friends department I would have died the night you told me you could never trust, see, know me again. An impulse of self-hatred that would have been the most tragic waste of a life that no war could compare to because unlike a nation or an oath or honor you do not deserve my life or breath or blood.
Have you finally made up your mind whether you hate or crave making others dependent upon you?
You think this comes down to your simple lack of trust? Try: your simultaneous crippling fear of emotional intimacy and desperate need for external validation from significant others, unstable sense of identity and self, and inability to either perspective-take or self-regulate.
That you dare think you can condescend to me when I am more self-aware, better able to articulate myself, impossibly more well-read, and above any level of competence you could possibly hope to attain with your utter lack of planning ability and foresight — That you think you can condescend to me given those things is hilarious. I shared that with my best friend too and oh did we laugh at you.
The fact that you think I need validation from you, however, is insulting.
The fact that you think I would ever want anything from you is insulting.
You are insulting.
That you have assumed you are in any way deserving of my time and attention, my emotional response to the paltry sum of your existence? Is an affront to the simple fact of nature that I am so far out of your league we aren’t even playing the same game and you should be grateful, not to whatever god you believe in this week but to me, that I once deigned to swap electrons with you in passing the day we met.
You boast and brag and posture because you fear in the depths of your heart that you are unworthy of whatever thing you have decided to worship but I am here to tell you to fear nothing. Nothing at all.
Rest easy and simply know that you are unworthy. It was never in question.
It’d be funny that you come back into my life now that you know I’m making actual money and have insurance and a retirement plan if, y’know, it weren’t also pathetic and transparent.
And one more thing: never compare me to a lion again. You are the lazy, self-pitying coward who relies on the efforts of others to get a meal masquerading as some great and powerful force. Projecting your insecurities onto others is unattractive and an ineffective method of coping.
I assure you I have never written anything more sincere in my life,