I secretly hate you, but I want you to think I love you.
I secretly hate you, but I want you to believe that I love you more than you love me. I only use you for supply, and I know deep down that I am your biggest enemy. I wish and pray for your downfall because it feeds my ego. I feel powerful when I see you falling apart, defeated, and exhausted. I need you to develop mental health issues because it confirms my superiority. I will ridicule whatever you do, devalue your achievements, and make you feel like you’re the problem. But I’ll also breadcrumb you, pretending it was a joke, because I don’t want to lose you. Deep down, whenever I ridicule you, I mean it. I want you to feel small and unworthy.
I will make you doubt your sanity.
I know you are seeing things as they are, but I’m making you doubt your sanity because it’s how I manipulate and gaslight you. If you were to see through me, you would leave, and I wouldn’t get any supply from you. I have to convince you that you’re messed up, imagining things, or making things up. I have to make you believe that you’re the problem, not me.
My personality is not real.
My personality is not real; it’s made up of bits and pieces stolen from my previous supplies, including you. I steal what I like from people I meet because I feel entitled to do so. I mimic personalities, interests, and hobbies to fit in. Deep down, I have no character, personality, or identity beyond these borrowed traits. I am nothing but a combination of stolen attributes.
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