This would be an open letter to my ex narc. Do I care if he reads it? No. Would I send it to him? Hell no! I’d just get the paltry bullshit back about how crazy I am, how he never did anything, how he’s the victim and perfect in every way. I’m sure one of his winged monkeys will pass it along to him. To start with, FUCK YOU! Yes, I finally said it. Fuck you and everything about you. Fuck you and your apology last year when you tried telling me you knew exactly how I felt when you so happily discarded me for supposedly the perfect one that ended up stabbing you in the back. And yes, I laughed when you said that. That she and your friends betrayed you. It was hilarious. No one betrayed you. No one screwed you over but YOU. You will always be your own worst enemy. You will always end up destroying everything you love. Well claim to anyway. You are completely incapable of it. I feel sorry for the new supply as she has no idea what she’s in for. You’ll just do to her like every other woman you’ve had in the past. That includes not only the one you married, had as girlfriends, but also the ones you duped online to be your online side pieces. Probably have a few that the new supply has no idea about. You’ve always been good at hiding those things.
You broke me. You took everything that I was but you’ll never take any blame in that. Again, you’re incapable of doing it. It’s always ALWAYS going to be someone else’s fault. It was my fault things fell apart. So, that’s what I’m going to work with here. Not only am I finally showing myself that it wasn’t my fault, but perhaps if you read this it might stick somewhere in that brain of yours but I highly doubt it. Narcissists don’t do very well when put up against logic. And I can be very logical. I will admit that a friend is right in that I will never understand your level of crazy. I didn’t in my mother nor did I in my ex-husband. And you sir, are right there up with them. You may not have been physical like them, but you had everything else JUST LIKE THEM. Read that part a few times. I will say that I had my own blame in things falling apart at the end. When I slapped you (and that’s all I did, tell your story another 20 times and it will still be different each and every telling.) it wasn’t the best way to have handled that situation. I was wrong in that and I apologized for my actions. You felt though that it was up to you to judge if I was remorseful or not. Guess what? You don’t get to judge that. You hated it when you claimed I was telling you how you felt, hypocrite much? You can’t tell me if I was remorseful or not. YOU ARE NOT ME! Remember that part as well. You hated when I compared you to my exes. Guess what? You did the same thing every day. Every. Single. Day. I did something like this one, or that one, or your ex-wife, or one of your online sluts. Nothing that I ever did was good enough for you. I was never good enough for you.
We were friends for so many years before you chose me. You had had affairs on your wife (multiple) and I’m sure she knew about them even if you think she didn’t. When you finally chose me I should have known from the start what I was in for. You had affairs both in person and online on your wife (and told me about them) that I had even expressed that I knew that would be the downfall. I fooled myself into thinking that things would be different? They would be different for me? Wrong. Dead wrong. It took a few years, but you got there. Oh, I’m sure there were a couple of them along the way that got through. But that’s later on down the road.
When you finally chose me, and began telling me all the horrible things about your wife and how she was no mother to your son, all she did was sleep, she was cause for arguments in your family, she never did anything around the house, on and on about how much of a horrible person you thought she was I actually bought some of it. You were doing that and all the while you were starting to shape me how you wanted me. You wanted me to get rid of my friends, the males in particular. You said that you wanted to be the only male in my life. That they were a threat to you. No. That wasn’t it at all. Their only crime was having a penis. That’s it. You were already saying that you didn’t trust me. It was fair for you to ask me to get rid of my exes that I had remained friends with, but it wasn’t fair for me to ask the same of you. Plenty of excuses why you remained in contact with them (even though according to you, you never talked to them at all.) When I had asked the same in return, you told me that it wasn’t fair of me to ask that. That I was being stupid and that I should just drop it. In trade I got SIX MONTHS of constant fighting with you over my male friends that you wanted me to get rid of. You couldn’t deal with me having male friends at all. This would become the most apparent when I was getting ready to move where you are. You got upset because I was going to have a friend come down and drive with me. It wasn’t until my son said he would go with me that you were fine with things. That would be made more apparent when I had wanted to visit a friend (male) while I was in Texas. You got snide and hateful at the mere thought of it. When I mentioned visiting a female cousin in Arizona, you were right as rain with that.
Recently you had accused me of sleeping with an ex/friend this entire time. HOW? WHEN? I was in constant contact with you at just about every moment of the day. When I wasn’t sleeping, we were on messenger or on the phone or even both. I was on cam with you a vast majority of the time. That’s how you managed to get the pictures of me that you had that I didn’t know about until one day I accidentally saw them all and was in utter shock. It’s also how you managed to get pictures of your side sluts that you kept. I even saw all of those as well. You are notorious for getting women to get naked for you on webcam and keeping pictures. You are notorious for having women masturbate on webcam for you and saving pictures of it. ALL OF IT. And not a one of them ever knew that you were doing that. Hell, most of them didn’t even know you had a wife let alone a girlfriend. You like it that way because then you can get what you want. Even the 16-yr. old girl that you accused (and still do) someone else for. SIXTEEN! You truly have no shame. At the end, it’s what you were doing with her as well. (Again that comes later.)
Before that first visit, you had even asked your wife if you could fuck me. You had been going on and on about wanting to have a threesome with her and I. Obsessed with the notion. All the way through the relationship, until even the very end. I’m sure the new supply has had to hear it or you finally got what you wanted from her and your ex-wife. Don’t know. All I know is that you were obsessed with it to the point you had said you would liquor us both up to get it. When I called you out on it, you backed off and said it was “wishful thinking” and you wouldn’t do that. I have a strange feeling that if I hadn’t called you out on it, you would have. I also had to hear about how you and your wife never had sex. That you were mostly on your own because she didn’t want to be bothered. You told me about the one from Ocala that wanted you so much that she called you on your wedding day to convince you not to. You turned her down and married your wife. She stopped talking to you for many years because of that, so you told me. There was the one that your wife caught you having an affair with, that eventually you met up with in Arizona (the first time you went down there) and spent a whole weekend making it like animals. You left with her crying because you felt awkward and wasn’t about to leave your wife. You kept throwing in my face that you were leaving your wife FOR ME, then it wasn’t about me, it was about you, then the very next sentence you were doing it for me. I had to keep telling you don’t do it because or for me, do it because it’s right for you. You’d again change your tune. You hated all my friends but “tried to be friends” with them for me. Yet all you did was tell me how YOUR friends hated my guts, had always hated me, and only tolerated me because of you. People I didn’t even know from Adam (figure of speech) that supposedly hated me and hated me for years. That if they knew they would talk you out of being with me so it wasn’t supposed to be discussed. How your parents were split on the subject of me. How your mom was okay with it but your dad hated the thought of it because it started out as an affair. That neither of your parents were going to do more than tolerate me. These were not comforting thoughts when moving to a place that I didn’t know anyone but you. You wanted it that way though. It was better for you that way. Even knowing these things and confronting you with them, you would always have a way to talk me back to you.
The move. Christ that was a mess. I had to give up the life I had in Florida for you. I had friends here. I had family here. I had a job here. Yet I had to give it all up to be with you. Alone. In California. Without any friends or knowing anyone there. Which meant that I had to cling to you or be on my phone to keep up with my children, my friends, and anyone that gave a damn about me. The day before I arrived, you had taken your wife to the airport so it was completely seamless for you. You would have no alone time. You went straight from her to me. Something that it seems you do quite well. You went from me to the next until she “betrayed” you completely and totally. Then it wasn’t more than a month when you had the new supply that you have now. Let me guess. You’ve told her how horrible I was to you. How I did all these bad things and that you were the victim of me. I’m sure you’ve gotten the ex-wife and your friends on board just to complete things. Though I honestly hope she gets the chance to read this. I’m sure you’ve got her believing that I’m the devil incarnate and that anything I say is just being the “crazy ex” without saying how I got to be that way.
Once I had moved there, it was good for a while. A little bumpy with your son, but things seemed to find their own way over time. For the first 2 years, everything was like an actual relationship. Except when there was a disagreement or writing got involved. Well online role play to be exact. You find your side chicks through role play. That’s your hunting ground. That’s where you are able to charm women and woo them. Of course, when things fell apart then (2014, 2016, and so I’m told even after) it was always my fault. That I would do something, say something, be “jealous”, “immature” or what have you that caused it to fall apart. I WAS NEVER AT FAULT! YOU WERE! You threw it back on me because you couldn’t handle being at fault for ANYTHING. It was far easier to blame me. I find it ironic that every time you’ve tried since you discarded me, it’s always fallen apart. I guess it really wasn’t my fault after all. When I had started my own chatroom, you couldn’t handle it. You hated that I was doing well until I was working too much and not able to give my time to writing like I wanted to. Then I had even started school. Not that you supported that in any way. It was just another thing that I was doing, that I ASSUME you couldn’t so hate on it and make me feel shitty for trying to do something to better myself. That was the beginning of the end actually. When I started school. I’m not there yet though.
I used to sit in the house and try to talk on the phone to friends and family. That didn’t work out so well because either you were watching something and I was “disturbing” you, being “too loud”, or you would rudely try to get involved in the conversations. I ASSUME that it was because you were trying to put a stop to that. Soon I had to go into another room or outside to be on the phone. Even then you would follow me knowing full well that I was on the phone. Just to be a part of things. Mostly to hear what I was saying. It slowly morphed into the only times I could use my phone were on the way to work, at work on breaks, or coming home. I couldn’t be on the phone when I walked in because you didn’t like it. You didn’t want me calling the house unless it was to “inform” you of something and nothing more. No calling the house just to say hey and talk to the person I love on my breaks. I was “interrupting” you. But if I decided to stop, say at the casino for a bit, without calling of course, you would light up my phone until I answered you. You claimed it was because you were worried about me. No that’s not it at all. You had to know what I was doing at all times because anything that diverted attention from you was forbidden. I couldn’t have friends in California and I certainly wouldn’t have invited anyone to that pigsty you called a house. If I didn’t clean it, it just didn’t get done. The one thing that I asked of you. Clean the damn house. You were home all day. You didn’t do anything except sit in front of your computer. The least you could do was keep up with the house. You didn’t give a damn about the house, but you knew I did. That wouldn’t matter though. You’d let it go until I had had enough and I would do it. Dishes with mold in them sitting around. Dust and dirt everywhere. Trash all over. You were fine with it. The only way you would clean the house was if there was an upcoming state visit and you were all about cleaning then. Work forty hours a week and then come home to clean when I had the chance. THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT! It was yours! I can only hope that since you are so blissfully happy with the new supply, that you clean more for her. You wouldn’t do it for anyone else.
Do you give her the silent treatment like you did me when we would argue? Do you withhold affection with her like you did me? Punishment for actually speaking my mind. Though I usually got things like “you’re about to start, aren’t you?” “You’re doing that 0-60 shit again.” Did it ever occur to you that I had valid feelings or reasons to be upset? Of course, not. It didn’t fit into your little world and how you view it. I would always have suck back how I felt and cow tow to you and apologize, take fault, and agree that you were perfect before I would get the “I guess you’re done with your attitude.” That was your way of saying that you won and were happy again. Unless you got your way in everything, there was never a right answer for me. I couldn’t even have a feeling.
Now we come towards the end. It’s been nearly two years now and I still haven’t healed from what you meticulously did to me in three years. I had been there for you when no one else was. I had listened to you when no one else would. I defended you to so many people including my own friends and family. I gave so much of myself that I ended up hating myself because of YOU! You did your best to take everything away from me. When J came along you spent all your time in Skype with her. It didn’t matter what was going on with me. You were too busy trying to convince her to give up her drugs. You were too busy trying to convince her to give up her “unhealthy lifestyle” to be with you. You’ll tell everyone that she was just a friend. Let’s be honest here. You don’t call friends while the person you claim to love is at work to get off the phone before she comes home just to spend the rest of the time in Skype to keep going. You don’t spend 6, 8, 10, nearly 12 hours on the phone ignoring everyone including the son you supposedly gave up so much for with a woman unless you’re hot and heavy for her. You don’t have her calling you “lover” and “my love” unless you’re working to be something. When she finally learned what you were really like, she asked you for a week that you both didn’t contact each other. You didn’t even last a day. You were calling her, sending messages, whispering in the chatroom, everything you could to get her to talk to you. Obsessed because she cut you off and she was supposed to be my replacement. Yet she was only “a friend”. You were trying to talk her into selling her home and moving to be with you. All the while telling her that she was everything that I wasn’t. All the while telling her that I was sleeping around (WITH WHO?), all the while telling her that I worked too much (yet you loved spending that money), all the while telling her that she was perfect and that you loved her. All the while you were doing with her what you did with me when you were talking about leaving your wife. You wanted me gone so quickly because you thought you were all good. I would be gone and across the country. By the time you got back to California, she’d be ready to move in, but it all fell apart didn’t it? Now you have the new supply and are supposedly blissfully happy, expecting a child in a couple of months so I’ve been told. Everything’s perfect for you. So much better than it would ever be with me. Well that’s what’s repeated by your flying monkeys.
Patterns my dear Narc. You did all the things that you did with me when you were still with your wife. When I spoke up and said that I didn’t feel comfortable with the “friendship” you had with her, you called me immature, told me I didn’t know what I was talking about, that that I needed to get a grip. That I was being jealous and petty. That I needed “help” because I was too jealous. All the while my gut was telling me that I was right. You couldn’t handle the fact that I was forced to be home all the time. It meant that you couldn’t follow your patterns, even though you were.
My story of that day has not changed but yours has several times each time you tell it. That particular day, we had argued the night before. You stormed off to bed and once more gave me the silent treatment because I had said that I wasn’t comfortable with your friendship with her. I wanted to take some time away from things. You wouldn’t hear of it. So, your answer was the same that it always was. Ignore me until I was back being as you would put it, myself again. The next day instead of waking up next to you, I woke up to an empty house except for your son who was doing what he wanted because you were ignoring him. I couldn’t find you in the house when I went to have my first smoke of the day. I was sitting there staring at my computer when I heard your house phone ring only once. That was it. Which meant that you were on it and making sure that I didn’t hear it as it sat right by the bedroom or could be heard in the backroom. Instead you were outside so that I was clueless that you were on the phone. I walked outside and watched as you were laughing and joking with her on the phone. Until you saw me. I turned and walked back towards the house when you yelled “do you need something?” I said no and went to sit back down. My stomach dropped as I realized who you were on the phone with. What you didn’t realize was I could HEAR YOU. When you told her that no I didn’t have a clue. I heard when you told her that she was more important and that I didn’t matter. I walked back outside and once more you looked at me and narrowed your eyes. I asked who you were on the phone with. You said “why? It’s none of your business. Go back in the house. This doesn’t concern you.” I tilted my head and looked at you. “I always tell you who I’m on the phone with when you ask me.” You nearly growled at me that I knew damn well who you were on the phone with and that it didn’t concern me and once more commanded that I go back in the house. You said you were talking about role play and the characters. I had said that it did concern me as I was a part of the play. You kept saying that no it didn’t and to go back in the house. Finally, I did. When I went inside, I didn’t get all the way inside when I heard you tell her that you didn’t love me, that I was just your roommate. I sat at my desk for only a moment. I threw my keyboard back and stormed out. I was going to tackle you, oh I wanted to, but I didn’t. Instead I tried grabbing for the phone. I slapped you in the process because I was hurt and I was angry. It doesn’t excuse what I did but it’s why I did something I never thought I could do to another person. You pinned my arm and I tapped the back of your head to get you to let go. We struggled for the phone and I managed to get it and throw it across the yard. I yelled that I was tired of being treated like shit, tired of being taken for granted, tired of being ignored, and FUCK YOU! You went in the house as did I. We continued to argue and I had reached out to emphasize what I was saying by patting you on the head. You said not to touch you so I drew my hand away. It was then you said we were done. The entire world left me. You didn’t need to hit me, because you did with just that phrase. You grabbed your keys, your son, and you left. When you finally came back to the house, you spoke with someone I thought was a friend, you were right about her, I’ll give you that one. The only thing you said to me was that in 2 weeks I was going to Ohio and that nothing would change.
After that while I was still living there you would swing back and forth from wanting nothing to do with me, to treating me like I was still your girlfriend, to even acting jealous because I was talking to friends. I was trying to pick up my life. You also used that time to convince me that I was some monster. Do you remember what you said? That I was exactly like my ex-husband in every way. That you were scared for yourself and your son to be around me because I would become violent again? Even though you ignored your son for her and the phone. That you said that I had no remorse for what I had done? That you wanted me gone because I could be violent again? That you had never loved me, I was just convenient for you? Telling everyone that I was some monster that did nothing but abuse you for three years.
Here’s the truth though. I spent three years trying to be everything that you wanted of me. I gave up of myself putting myself in a position that when you did discard me I had nowhere to go, no money to do anything with, nor any means to survive without you. I gave everything that I was to be what you wanted. It was never enough. It will never be enough. I lost a friend from this. (More from the aftermath, they’re your friends now and supposedly hate me as much as your friends did.) I lost the man I loved. Still do sadly. I had to publicly humiliate myself just to have you return some of the things I had left behind trying to meet your deadline. You would swing back and forth from seeming like the man I had once loved to this viscous asshole that was hell bent on destroying me, while making yourself look the victim. Hell, I was supposedly the mastermind to what happened with your chatroom when I had nothing to do with anyone involved. You lied about everything. You had me believing I was the monster. You convinced me that maybe I was better off dead. You destroyed every part of me. To this day, you blame me for every wrong that’s ever happened.
Slowly I’m working on trying to be the person that I was. Though you are right. I deserve someone like my ex-husband. You are right that I deserve to die or continue to be punished for what you claim I did to you. But finally getting this all out has me realize that I was never the monster, you were. My only mistake was loving you and while I most likely will to the day I do finally die, you have the honor of being my first regret. What’s really sad out of all this? You will talk about things with your winged monkeys. You’ll talk to everyone around me, but just like in the past you can’t find the nut sack to actually talk to me like a grown adult. Instead every few months I’ll get some dumb reason for you to reach out to me. Instead of dumb reasons, grow a set and say what’s on your damn mind. Or don’t bother.
I actually feel better now that all this is out there. I wish you and your new supply well. It’s a shame that you can still be friends with your exes, but I get the privilege of being the one you can’t be bothered with. All the same, this was for me. Not for you. If you happen to see it, I’ll most likely get some email at length about I’m crazy or arguing everything I’ve said. To be honest, don’t waste either of our time. It will be the same dance where you tell me I’m crazy, you’re the victim, I need help. Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I needed help but you know what. I’m actually okay. Save for getting beyond your abuse. Yes, I said it. ABUSE. Emotional and mental ABUSE. I can actually say it now. I am sorry for anything you believe I did wrong to you. The outburst the day things ended I am especially sorry for. I handled that wrong, but I forgive myself. I wasn’t myself and things happen. I regret that I did that to you. There’s an article you should read about reactive abuse. http://mysticalraven.com/relationships/5550/heres-why-reactive-abuse-is-the-narcissists-and-psychopaths-favourite-move It may explain far better than I ever could.
I forgive you and your abuse. You’re a narcissist and can’t help how you are. I hope that one day you are honest with yourself and seek help for that and your memory problems. As both will only get worse over time. I wish that I could have my friend back, but I doubt that will ever be. What I would like you to know is that no matter what story you tell about me, I did/do love you. I gave you everything that I could and did everything that I could to show you that. It will never be enough for you. And I’m sorry that I will never be anything to you. I wish you nothing but happiness in the end.
Why did I go through all this? Because it was time and something I needed to do for me. Something to look at and remind myself during the dark times that happen that I wasn’t what he led me to believe. I wasn’t anything more than a victim of his abuse. I’m finally comfortable saying that he did in fact abuse me. There are still times though that I slip back into believing that I was the “evil” one because that’s what he wanted me to believe. The fact that I can say these things means I am getting beyond what he did. Though I still have no self-esteem or worth. I don’t see any value in myself to others. As it was said to me, I have lost the “spark” I once had. It’s not lost. It was taken away. I live in mostly solitude and do not see that changing much at all. I guess it’s my punishment for everything I’ve done wrong and I accept it. If for anything else, I hope this helps someone else. Anyone that sees any of this in someone they’re with and may not understand. Hearing/reading it might help them. It might help me. I’ll never understand his level of crazy, but I like to think that there was for a brief moment some happiness for him. Though to hear him tell it, there never was and all I did was make him miserable. I was happy. Not that he believes that either. Until the end. More perhaps another time. For now, I have gotten all this out without having to hear how crazy I am. How things weren’t that way. And all the other things I would get told were I to send this. So, I get to say my peace and one day he might get to read it. For now, I’ll continue to pay my penance to the universe.