An Open Letter to the Narcissist Who Taught Me Silence Hurts More Than Screaming

You will probably never read this.

But if you do; don’t worry.

It’s not written for your ego.

It’s written for my closure.

You were charming, polished, and just damaged enough to make me think I could fix you.

You didn’t love me

You loved what loving me said about you.

You loved how I made you feel, not how I felt.

You studied me, not to understand,

but to use.

Every compliment came with control.

Every ‘I love you’ had a leash.

And every moment I tried to express my pain

was twisted into my fault.

You gaslit me so subtly

I started apologizing for crying.

Started thanking you for staying

after you were the one who caused the storm.

I lost myself in your hands

hands that never held me gently.

Hands that clapped only for your own performance.

And yet,

I stayed.

Because I wanted to believe the version of you I created

was buried somewhere beneath the one who left me begging for breadcrumbs.

But I’m done.

Done shrinking myself to make your shadow feel smaller.

Done confusing manipulation for romance.

Done calling survival love.

I don’t hate you.

That would require too much energy

And you’ve taken enough of that already.

But I no longer chase closure

from someone who couldn’t even give me honesty.

This letter isn’t for you.

It’s for me

To remember that walking away wasn’t weakness,

it was the beginning of coming home to myself.

I hope one day you look in the mirror

and finally see what you did to the people who truly cared.

But even if you never do

I forgive myself for loving you.

And that’s enough.

-Me

Not your supply. Not your saviour. Not your second chance.