Is narcissism inherited, or is it something people are born with, a sickness that grows quietly inside them until it consumes everything? I keep thinking about that, because sometimes I wonder if he got it from his father, the way he carries himself like he owns the world, the way he never apologizes for hurting anyone. Or maybe he got it from his mother, the way she enabled him, the way she whispered that the world owes him something just for existing. I don’t know. I only know that he is exactly what he is—a narcissistic ******* through and through.

And I hate it. I hate him. I hate that he walks around thinking he’s untouchable, untouchable and untouching, while leaving chaos and misery in his wake. It’s infuriating. He thinks he’s clever, untouchable, like consequences don’t exist for him. But they do. They exist.

I want him to rot. I want him to feel the weight of every lie he’s ever told, every manipulation, every time he made someone doubt themselves because of him. I hope he burns in his own ego, that every ounce of arrogance he carries is turned against him. Because someone like him doesn’t deserve mercy. He deserves the opposite.

I hope he suffers. I hope he wakes up one day and realizes that the world doesn’t bend to his whims, that it never really has, and that the harm he caused is finally coming back to him. I hope he is sick—not just sick, but truly, incurably sick, the kind of illness that humbles him completely.

I don’t care about worst-case scenarios. I don’t care about the what-ifs. He fits the punishment perfectly. The universe, or karma, or whatever you want to call it, has a way of giving people exactly what they deserve, and I hope he is no exception.

I want him to feel every single thing he made others feel. I want him to look in the mirror and see the hollow, unrepentant person staring back. I want him trapped by his own arrogance, forced to confront himself, forced to understand the ugliness inside. Because that’s what he is.

I hate the way he smiles like nothing is wrong, like he’s above all of it, untouchable. I hate the way he convinces others to follow him, to bend for him, to give him power he doesn’t deserve. I hate that people fall for it. I hate that I even had to witness it.

He thrives on control, on manipulation, on the destruction of anyone who gets too close or dares to see him for what he is. He doesn’t love, he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t understand the meaning of empathy. Every action he takes is calculated, self-serving, cruel in ways that seem effortless to him.

And yet, despite all of this, he has never faced real consequences. He has never truly been humbled. And that makes my blood boil because it’s only a matter of time before someone else falls victim to his lies, someone else suffers because he can’t see past his own reflection.

I hope that time comes for him. I hope it comes suddenly and painfully. I hope it is unavoidable, inescapable, and that he cannot manipulate or charm his way out of it. I hope it teaches him something, though I doubt it will. People like him rarely learn.

I hope every day reminds him of the pain he’s caused. I hope he remembers the betrayal, the heartbreak, the manipulation, every time he looks at himself. And I hope it haunts him because that is all he deserves. That is justice in its purest, most righteous form.

I want him to see that his actions have consequences, that the world is not his playground, and that the people he destroys are real, breathing, feeling, and capable of surviving without him. He is not the center of anything except his own narcissism.

And when he finally understands the emptiness of what he has built, I hope he has no one to blame but himself. I hope the arrogance, the cruelty, the manipulation he has perfected for so long finally turns inward and consumes him from the inside out.

Because I don’t forgive him. I cannot forgive him. I don’t even want to. I want him to live with the weight of his choices. I want him to feel the fear, the despair, and the emptiness that he has inflicted on others.

And through all of this, I will survive. I will not let his narcissism define me or break me. I will carry the lessons, the scars, and the anger, and I will use them to grow stronger. I will thrive while he remains trapped in the prison he built for himself.