If I’m a misogynist, you’re responsible. I was a sensitive, gentle, kind-hearted child before you decided to begin molesting me at age six.
If I hate you, it’s your doing. I was a quintessential “nice guy” for years. I was patient, kind, and helpful. I was still that way, even years after you repeatedly passed me over for violent men who treated you like dog shit. Even nice guys have a breaking point past which they simply will not take any more of your bullshit.
If I won’t speak to or interact with you anymore, it’s your fault. Maybe you should have shown me a little fucking kindness instead of spending most of your time telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I just wasn’t good enough for you.
If I scare you, you’re the one who made me scary. Maybe you shouldn’t have withheld your love from me, for decades, over what amounted to trivial personality differences. Count yourself lucky I don’t rape you and cut your tits off, you cheating, lying fucking whore.
If I’m violent towards you, perhaps you shouldn’t have laughed at and humiliated me starting in first grade. Maybe you shouldn’t have told me I was good for nothing and would never amount to anything. And maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t have fucked guys who, compared to me, really were pieces of shit. Laughing at decent people while you cavort with criminal scum has consequences, you know?
If I rape and kill you, can you honestly say you don’t deserve it? Maybe you shouldn’t have ripped my heart out, not just once, but over, and over, and over again. I don’t feel love, or kindness, or compassion towards you any more, nor do I expect to ever again.
When I look at you now, all I want to do is kill you. I don’t see you as a human being anymore. All I see is a cruel, arrogant, selfish piece of shit who doesn’t give a fuck about anything but gratifying her own slutty tingles.
Don’t ever speak to me again. Because I sure as fuck have nothing else to say to a craven cunt like you.