Monday, April 9, 2018

the endless "Giver"

The narcissist is the gift that keeps on "giving."

If the narc is bad enough, that is. My ex, apparently is, bad enough. He learned from at least two lovely generations of Narcs--his grandfather and father--one dead, one in prison.

I wonder at the hours, the days he must spend dreaming up new schemes, new ways of trying to be important, new ways of having to email or message me--all for negative attention. All to stir the pot, rattle, thwart, some sort of attempt to make me sorry for leaving? Doesn't it get old eventually? Isn't he tired, bored with me? I'm just one person in the world trying to move on. We're done. We've been done officially for two years now. I've been done since I woke up on swallowing a Red Pill in 2013. Five, fucking years ago I said, I want out. I want a divorce. 

I'm out. Divorced. Moved states.

He has new supply, a plenty. New live in GF. He has his students to honor him with chili peppers and inflated reviews on rate your professor dot com. But alas "supply" is never enough. He is an addict. He has an irresistible longing for more and more supply. And I am the negative supply. I am she whom must be destroyed because I dared abandon him just like his mother. I dared point out the Emperor's lack of clothes. And this was my mortal sin.

Truth be told, it's not me that he really battles. He wants all to recognize he wears only the finest garments. I only symbolize the nakedness. I'm not actually the nakedness. But, if you can't even see the nakedness of yourself you will endlessly stab in order to identify the invisible nakedness in things you can't see. And so, he blindly wrestles against a deep seated idea, a philosophy, an emptiness deeper and greater than the Grand Canyon itself that can never be filled by anyone else but himself. And I represent that emptiness, that nakedness that he could never confront in himself. He projects all the nakedness in his world onto me so that he can continue to pretend that he wears only the finest clothes.

And this is why he must still waste his time dreaming up ways to give away shitty clothing and the only thing he is capable of giving to me, destruction. All this because he isn't wearing any of his own shit.