That 1st second thought

After a long stretch of overt narcissist abuse, due to me losing everything during his covert narcissistic phase, and having no where to turn, and no way to get there, and he knew it. He was the almost perfect boyfriend in the presence of others, but the moment we were alone he was cruel, and apathetic. He destroyed my confidence, my sanity. In every way he treated me, including the tone in his voice. It was like day and night, how it changed as soon as the door was closed . I wrote this letter to him, that he never read. Every word of it is true. This is from a victim of mind fuckery that no one understands until it happens to them.......

.....................................

I hate you. I mean that from the bottom of my dark and empty heart.

 My numb and apathetic soul. Within every inch of this pit, the wasted space in which my breath and these words... echo! 

And with every distant memory of desire and affection. 

Every wasted;     "tick ---tick--- tick", running out the clock of my fleeting youth. 

My fading life.

I see you. 

A loud and hungry vacuum that sucked out and flushed away, then forgot, about the flecks, glimmer, and beaming rays of light that was shining in me when we met.  

Now I shine,...

 

no more. 

It is so dark, in this cave -- this filthy hole in the ground you give me for all that I've lost ... to you.

I know you - a narcissist - with a shallow heart and, narrow mind, and..., I hate you!

I hate the air you breathe; the ground you walk on; the space you waste. 

I hate your ever-growing collection of junk, your trash everywhere and the dirt and filth you smear on to… everything!      Ev-ery-thing?      Ev-ery thing!!

I hate your lies, how they're told... and I hate the head games you play. I hate the lie that you, are! 

I’m sick of your many -always changing - personalities. 

You have disrespected, disregarded, and disenchanted me to the point I’m loathing every bit of you. Your look;   your sound;   your smell, your taste;

 your tone; your hue;  your height, your weight; your dreams, your fears, your jokes, your laugh, ....your ass..., and yes.....; 

even your face.

It’s as if I had slit my wrists -- slowly bleeding out all this time while carrying such a deep , and , visceral regret for giving you that first:  "second thought”.

Written by,

Melinda Marinko

1/25/2015 

Salem, OR.