Alignment Pathways

Content Warning:

This post is written from the perspective of a narcissistic abuser. It contains emotionally manipulative language, depictions of possessiveness, gaslighting, threats of violence, and psychological abuse. It may evoke strong emotions or trigger trauma responses in readers who have experienced abusive relationships. Please read with care and prioritize your mental well-being.

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Hey Baby, I’ve been up thinking about last night. I couldn’t sleep—it just keeps playing over and over in my head. I know I was wrong and I want to say I’m sorry for what I said. I know I hurt you, and I really didn’t mean to, that was never my intention. 

It’s just… everything was already so tense, and then you came at me when I was already on edge. I’m sorry for not listening to you—I was overwhelmed, and it wasn’t your fault. You know how I get when things get too loud. I was frustrated, and I felt like no matter what I said, you wanted to fight. So yeah, I definitely said some things I shouldn’t have. But it really didn’t have anything to do with you—it was just the heat of the moment. The pressure and everything just boiled over. 

I know it might not seem like it, but baby… I really am doing my best. You have to see that. I’ve bent over backwards trying to show you that I care. I check in, I show up, I hold all your pieces when you fall apart—and somehow, I feel like it’s just never enough for you.

I know I snapped, but I hope you can understand my frustration—I had just spent the whole evening cooking for you, trying to make sure you could relax when you got home. You walked in the door and immediately tried to start a fight about some girl I don’t even know on my phone. I feel like you knew that would set me off. It felt like you wanted to start a fight. I had dinner ready for you. I was trying to do something nice, FOR you. I wanted it to be a good night. But it’s like I can’t even do anything nice without being reminded that you don’t trust me. You’re always accusing me of something—cheating, lying, or things I haven’t even done. It feels like you just want to catch me doing something that I’m not. And I’m tired of it. It all just got to be too much, baby. And I snapped. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t.

I love you, baby. I really do. But I’m starting to feel like I’ll just never be able to win with you. No matter how hard I try, you always find something to blame me for—or question me about. It’s like I’m constantly on trial, having to prove myself to you over and over again. Do you know what that feels like? I have to keep proving my love, my loyalty, everything. And it’s just exhausting, baby.

I try so hard to be what you need me to be, but it’s like you just sit there, and wait for me to mess up. Like you WANT me to be the bad guy. And the worst part? It works. You push me to that point, and then when I finally break, you get to say that I’m exactly who you say I am. You don’t see how much I hold in—how much I swallow just to keep the peace with you. Doesn’t that count for anything?

Baby, the more I think about it, I don’t think you realize just how much you push me. Sometimes I think you like getting me to that point just so you can say you’re right. Every little thing I do wrong, you hold onto it. You never let me live it down. Every mistake—even the one time I cheated—you bring it up like it just happened yesterday. You say you want to heal and move past it all, but how am I supposed to show you I’ve changed if you won’t even give me a chance? I’m bending over backwards trying to prove myself to you, but it’s like nothing will ever be enough.

You always say I hurt you, but do you ever stop to think about how much it hurts me to have everything I’ve ever done wrong constantly thrown in my face? You poke, you prod, you push me to the edge—and then act scared when I finally react. Make that make sense. You get mad when I shut down. You get mad when I explode. And every single time I actually try to open up? You twist my words. You throw them back at me like weapons. I might be part of the problem, but you sure as hell don’t make it any easier to do better. 

Honestly, I’m tired of feeling like I have to prove anything to you. I’ve already done more than I know most would. I stay. I show up. I’ve given you everything I have. And yeah, I’ve messed up—but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m the bad guy all the time.

You think you’re the only one hurting? You think it doesn’t tear me apart when you pull away and treat me like a stranger in my own relationship? I hate that feeling. I hate knowing that no matter what I do, you still make me feel like someone else could just come in and take you from me. Like what we built means nothing to you. 

This relationship is mine too, baby. And so are you. And I think sometimes… you forget that.

You want me to be honest? I’m not doing all of this work just to lose you. I didn’t pour myself into you just to watch someone else enjoy the version of you that I made. This isn’t just about love—it’s about everything I’ve invested in you. I’ve had every opportunity to leave, to walk away, but I made a choice to stay and fight for what’s mine. How can you not see that, baby?

You keep acting like you’re stuck, like I’m the problem—but baby, I don’t even know if you’d recognize yourself without me. I gave you peace where there wasn’t any. I gave you stability when everything else was falling apart. You’re not stuck—you’re chosen. You’re special. You’re mine. I chose you—and I know you love me, because deep down, you know no one will ever love you the way I do.

You act like I haven’t given you everything. Like I haven’t damn near killed myself trying to keep this together. Do you even care at all?  Do you realize what I’ve sacrificed for you? What I’ve held in just to avoid setting you off? I swallow so much, stay so quiet, and for what? Just to be the bad guy anyway?

I’ve been holding it together, baby. I try to stay calm. I try to keep the peace—but we can’t keep pretending like this is all on me. I change. I show up. I stay when anyone else would’ve walked right out the door. And still—you treat me like I’m nothing. Like everything I’ve done means nothing. Like I don’t matter.

You’re wrong baby. I’m the one carrying us. I’m the one who keeps this whole thing from falling apart. And I swear to God, if you make me feel like I’m not enough one more time…

You’ll see exactly what a bad guy looks like.

I can be the bad guy, baby. I am the bad guy. And I’ve been hiding it—for you. I buried it. I kept it quiet. I told myself you couldn’t handle all of me. That if I showed you everything—what I really am—you’d leave. And I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t let you go. So I softened it. I played the part. I let you believe I was something safe.

But you want to call me the villain? Accuse me of being the worst? Then fine, baby. Let’s stop pretending.

You say I’m always lying to you. I just don’t tell you every little thing. I tell you just enough to keep you confused. Just enough to keep you close. That’s not a coincidence baby—that’s the point. I don’t lie to protect you. I lie to protect my grip on you. I lie so you stay right here, caught between loving me and fearing me.

The truth? You feel stuck because I made you that way. I’ve wrapped myself around your life so tightly that you can’t even tell where I end and you begin. I’ve built you up and broken you down until you don’t know who you are without me. You think I LOVE YOU? No, no, no baby.

I fucking own you. 

You say it’s suffocating to be with me—but we both know you can’t breathe without me either. That’s the part you never say out loud. You hate me. You love me. And yet you need me. And that’s exactly where I want you.

I’ve created something in you that will never leave. You’ll hear my voice when you cry. You’ll feel my grasp in places no one else can ever reach. They’ll try to hold you, but they’ll be chasing a ghost. I’ve already carved myself into you so deeply, you’ll spend the rest of your life mistaking pain for love.

You are not free. You never were. You were chosen. Owned. Claimed.

And if I have to stand in the ashes of everything we were just to make sure no one else gets a piece of what’s MINE?

I’ll light the match myself, baby.

I’ll watch you burn, with a smile on my face

Then and ONLY THEN, can you call me the bad guy.

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If you’ve made it this far and your heart is pounding—good. This was never meant to feel safe.

What you just read wasn’t a confession. It was the truth they’ll never say out loud.

A glimpse into the mind of a narcissist—someone incapable of love as you know it.

They don’t nurture, they manipulate.

They don’t connect, they claim.

And when the mask starts to slip, they don’t show you this side.

They hit reset.

Cue the charm. The apologies. The promises.

The cycle starts over—this time with prettier words and softer lies.

But what I wrote here?

That’s what’s really going on beneath the surface.

They’ll never say it.

Because if they did, they’d risk losing you.

This isn’t passion.

This isn’t love.

This is your warning.

If any of this feels familiar—if someone in your life moves like this, talks like this, loves like this—please leave before you forget what real love feels like.

Before “I’m sorry” becomes a trap.

Before “I love you” becomes a cage.

You are not something to be owned.

You do not exist to be controlled.

Real love does not sound like this. And it never will.