Prick the Ripper

When I look back at you now, Wottaprick, I find myself confronted by an entity with no judgement, no scruples and no sense of humor.

And I realise that a lot of what you called arguing and I called progressive insanity was result of my inability to digest the fact that someone who had looked so good at
the beginning could actually be so hollow, and your insistence that I join you in pretending you were still the wonderful person you had once seemed to be, even when you were behaving like a total shithead.

And if I have any residual sadness about what you called the "relationship" and I called the "nightmare" it`s that, once again I loved someone who abused me.

And if I have any residual anger about it (and I do), it`s that you not only duped me into believing you loved me in order to abuse me, for you the greatest pleasure lay in doing both - duping me first, and then abusing me.

It`s great knowing how a relationship is going to end before it ever even gets to BE a relationship, isn`t it Wottaprick? You have all the control, and it`s a fabulous protection against intimacy. No point getting intimate if it could end within the year, is there?

And then, the D&D (ah, SWEET reminiscence - Wottapricks little hour of glory. The shock, the pain, the disbelief in my face - narcissistic supply of the very highest caliber. Too bad the reaction dulls the more often you do it. We get boring as we slowly numb to your abuse, don`t we, Wottaprick?).

It`s your only real talent - enticing people to come closer and closer, until they`re close enough to slash at them, like some awful carnivorous PLANT.

You`re not a psychic vampire, Wottaprick - you`re a psychic murderer. Prick the Ripper, that`s you.

Arghhhhh!

(Sorry, just processing!

Hugs,
Tigerlily)