The Predator's Goodbye

Thank you. Thank you for being the hard life lesson that I didn’t want. You forced me into an evolution and realization about people in the most unnecessary ways. You showed me disrespect. You violated me in every way. You abused me in every way. You crossed every boundary I ever even tried to set. You showed me exactly how much trust, communication, respect, loyalty, commitment, and acceptance matter in a relationship by not giving me any of it for the entire time.

I will have you know, though, that I do not place sole blame on your shoulders. Part of the blame is mine. Not because of the ways you said I manipulated you. Or because of the cheating you said I did. But because I knew within the first 30 days of knowing you what kind of person you were. I knew. You showed me in my front yard that fateful night. You know the night I speak of. It was the night that I, for the first time in my life, stood up for my own morals and values and told you that if you wanted to continue using drugs, that I wouldn’t be sticking around. It was the night that you accused me of giving you an ultimatum. It was the night that you threw me around my own front yard because I had set my boundary and said my piece and I was leaving the conversation…and YOU weren’t done talking to me. YOU weren’t done talking to me because I had not yet bent to your will. And because I was not doing/saying what YOU WANTED to hear, YOU decided that I was staying whether I wanted to or not. 

If only I could talk to that 20-something me again. I would tell her that she had done nothing wrong. That you were a bully. A control freak. A predator. An abuser. A drug addict. An alcoholic. A VERY broken, damaged, and wounded person. I would tell her it was NOT her responsibility or obligation to fix you. And I would tell her that she was in no way obligated to be your fucking punching bag for all of that anger that you held inside.

I once told you that I noticed you have a “hero complex” – The desire, need, or urge to jump in and help the “damsel in distress”. Well, I think I was wrong. You don’t have a hero complex. You have predatory instincts. You seek out damaged people and you make them believe that you are charming, sweet, kind, generous, considerate, and loving…you lull them into trusting you, depending on you, needing you. And you feed off of them. You take advantage of them in every way you can. It isn’t a desire to help others in distress. It’s a desire to feel worthy and in control. It’s selfish. You use other people to try to fill the voids of your own internal wounds. And in the process of that, you DESTROY the other person with your off-hand comments, your lack of attention, your inability to reciprocate the love you receive. You swat away and reject any attempts they suggest at getting real healing with excuses. You flip around situations and manipulate conversations and gaslight them into believing that THEY are the problem…because after all, THEY are the one with the diagnosis, right? THEY needed YOU. Not the other way around. THEY were the one in despair, and YOU just came to their rescue. So how dare they suggest that now YOU should take ANY responsibility for ANY of the issues that arise within your relationship. How utterly insane! 

I’m done dwelling in the past now. Hanging on to the victim/survivor mentality. Bottom line: You are a predator and always have been. I knew that truth from the beginning and I stayed anyway. I allowed it to happen because I just wanted SOMEONE…ANYONE to give me attention. And you did that. When it was convenient to you. What we had together…it wasn’t love. It was anxious attachment. It was selfish desire. It was societal pressures. It was rebellion against other forces in our lives. It was a mask we wore to show everyone else how unaffected we were by the traumas that lived within us caused by other people. It was a lie. To ourselves and to others. It should have ended that night in my front yard. I know that now. I accept that. I take full responsibility for my part in that. For not being stronger. For not standing my ground. For not calling the police or getting a restraining order. For having my head stuck too far up my own ass to realize that I was damaged and needed help. 

Here comes the part that you never thought you’d hear. 

I forgive you. I forgive you for all of your sins against me. All of them. The abuse. The rape. The manipulation. The disrespect. The control. The predatory nature of you. I forgive you for feasting on me for 22 long years. I forgive you for breaking me. I forgive you because it’s in the past. I forgive you because no amount of talking about it will change it now. I forgive you because I knew what you were doing the entire fucking time…and I let you do it. I forgive you because this BULLSHIT weighs a fucking TON and I am tired of carrying it. I am exhausted. And frankly, I am just done with you. You don’t deserve my time, thoughts, attention, emotions, or anything else from me. And you CERTAINLY don’t deserve to control me anymore…to dictate what MY LIFE becomes. You were absolutely the rock bottom of my life. But, I think I see the staircase now. 

Goodbye