(Note to you, Dear reader: You may want to “click through”, to get to my actual blog site, to be able to comment, since I’m now on “self-hosted” WP blog)… Over to today’s blog:

I had begun to think the madness had stopped. Behold the fool…

Sure, I still had a small knot in my stomach, but dismissed it as paranoia. After all, who would believe that anyone, anyone in this world, would keep contacting a person who, for a whole week, hasn’t replied to the last six text messages?

You all know by now, that such a person exists, who would try again, the following week. Yes. Our favorite stalker, 63752fe5911b6ff764b1a3fe036075fda.k.a Hero a.k.a narcissist ex. I guess that only in his narcissistic mind can it make sense to keep contacting me, even if I don’t respond. (It has now been 1.5 years after our formal break-up, at that). What’s he even thinking? Perhaps: “She’ll cave. Eventually”.

The reason I was beginning to think the narcissistic “hoover” attempts had stopped, was that there was a short respite; there were no contact attempts, these last two days. Then, suddenly, there it was again, in my phone’s “blocked list”: “One new blocked text”…

I know I was tough and strong the last time I talked about this. But now, this is wearing me out. I try as much as I can to pep talk myself, to think: “Just ignore it. He can go to hell”. Etc. But, it is getting to me. The sum of these contact attempts, now seven, in 8-9 days… it makes me nervous. Fear returns. The fear of an “escalation” of his contact attempts…

Frankly, I am terrified of him escalating his attempts to contact me. I don’t know 100% that I can withstand it, should he for example show up outside my house, acting Prince Charming, looking at me with the sad eyes…(His sad face is really sad; like he’s carrying the universe on his fdc4fc6492dd8a1452bddd4f17189a63shoulders! It’s the combination of: a puppy, a crying baby, the saddest movie you’ve ever seen, and your biggest heartbreak ever. Roll all those into one, and you can imagine how sad his face can look… I told him several times, he should pursue an acting career…)

And I know what would happen, should I listen even for a second to his speech. I would become the seafarers in the Odyssey: One second of listening to the bewitching song of the Sirens, and I would be forever lost… I wish I could do like Homer in the Odyssey; tie myself to a mast, so I don’t succumb to the lovely-but-deadly Sirens and their magic song.

I seriously doubt I could survive one more round of cheating, lying, broken promises, gaslighting, blame games, silent treatments, and so on.

This fear is paralyzing.

This fear is cold, like the hand of Death squeezing my heart.

This fear weighs me down, makes all my limbs heavier.

I have to breathe.

I tell myself over and over, that it’s over. 

“He can not hurt you anymore”, I whisper to that little panicked bird inside.

The bird with two broken wings, whose heart is racing at a hundred miles per hour.

He can not hurt you anymore“.

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