Same Time Next Week?

I think he is going to kill me.

Something about the way he glares at me sometimes, like he's searching for vulnerabilities to exploit. His eyes resemble an abyss, swallowing the light and casting a shadow over his entire being. They hold a depth of darkness managing to penetrate my soul, sending an icy chill coursing through my veins. This coldness, this palpable aura of dread, wraps around me, leaving me paralyzed with fear.

His words slither from his lips like venomous serpents, their hiss carrying an underlying threat coiling around my mind, squeezing out any semblance of peace. Each syllable drips with malice, leaving a bitter taste in the air that lingers long after they fade into silence.

It's not what he says, but the way he says it, the subtle inflections and sinister undertones that twist innocent phrases into sinister threats. They linger in the air like a toxic fog, poisoning the atmosphere and suffocating any hope of escape.

It's enough to make my blood run cold. He's like a shadow that's been following me for as long as I can remember, always lurking in the background, never quite stepping into the light. It feels like I know nothing about him, yet everything about him. Either way, his presence is unmistakable.

Friend? Sometimes I guess. Certainly not a friend anyone should want, to say the least. It's a toxic relationship where someone has been around for so long that, in a sort of way, you become dependent on them.

The well-meaning advice of others echoes in my mind, their words a constant reminder of the simplicity they perceive in my situation.

 "Get rid of him," they say, as if severing ties with a friend is as effortless as flicking a switch.

Let me be the one to tell you, it's not so simple, you can’t "snap out of it"

It's a rollercoaster being his friend that's for sure. Sometimes it's the most exciting thing in the world. A life with high energy, fun filled times. Sometimes, though, the energy gets a little too high. Like he is an unstoppable force that wants you to keep up with him, and you try to the point where it exhausts you.

Other days, he refuses to get out of bed.

Describing him is like trying to capture the essence of a storm in a teacup. He's a complex concoction of negativity and cynicism, with a dash of biting sarcasm thrown in. Picture a perpetual rain cloud hovering over a sunny day, threatening to burst at any moment.

So, what's he like? Trying to articulate what he is like to anyone who doesn't have a similar friend is like trying to describe color to a blind person. Unless you have seen it yourself, it’s impossible to know what it’s like.

Believe it or not, yes, he does have some positive qualities, for lack of a better term.

Despite his usual pessimism, there are fleeting moments when his words carry a weight of insight, as if he possesses a hidden reservoir of wisdom beneath his cynical exterior. It's in those rare instances that his perspective transcends mere negativity, offering glimpses of profound understanding that cut through the fog of despair.

Like a lone beacon in the darkness, his words illuminate the path forward, guiding me through the storm of uncertainty with unexpected clarity.

It's as if he possesses a knack for identifying potential pitfalls before I encounter them.

To be honest, I often wonder if he is smarter than I am. At his core, he’s a jerk, to be sure, but other times, he is brilliant.

No, he’s not always around. Sometimes it's months before I hear from him. But when he comes back, it's terrible. What's curious is his timing - it's almost as if he senses when I'm at my best, swooping in to dampen my spirits with reminders of impending hardship.

Just as I'm relishing the momentum of overcoming life's hurdles, a subtle shift in the air heralds his arrival and I feel his gaze watching from the periphery, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

His whispers seep into my thoughts, planting seeds of doubt and apprehension. They coil around my optimism, smothering it out with insidious warnings of impending doom. Despite my best efforts to shut them out, they persist, a haunting echo that reminds me of the fragility of progress and the ever-present specter of adversity.

Trust me, I've asked myself the same thing countless times. There's a peculiar solace in the predictability of his pessimism. It's like sinking into a familiar, albeit uncomfortable, armchair after a long day – you know it's not ideal, but at least it's something you understand.

There's a strange reassurance in the consistency of his cynicism, a grim reminder that some things never change, no matter how much we wish they would.

Of course I have. I wish I had a foolproof answer on how, but the truth is, I'm still figuring it out myself. Sometimes, I confront him head-on, armed with optimism and resilience. Other times, I try to ignore his incessant chatter, focusing instead on the brighter aspects of life. It's a balancing act between acknowledging his presence and refusing to let him dictate the narrative of my story.

Some attempts leave me drained, my body rebelling against the strain of our tumultuous relationship. The stress mounts like a weight upon my chest, each failed endeavor extracting a toll on my well-being.

It's as if my essence recoils from the toxicity of our connection, manifesting in aches, pains, and a general sense of malaise. These physical symptoms serve as tangible reminders of the battle raging within.

If I find something he hates that makes him go away for a while, he develops a tolerance for it and comes right back around.

He prefers to keep to himself, or he prefers to be around me I should say. I'm his only 'friend'. I'm the only one he hangs out with. So, to answer your question, never, that I can say for sure. He would never hurt anyone else. I am his only target.

While a part of me clings to the hope that one day I'll break free from his grip, the reality is far more sobering. Every attempt to shake him loose only strengthens his hold, like a relentless predator refusing to release its prey.

The truth is that the constant battles are getting exhausting, and at times, I think it would be easier to give in and let him be in charge. Let him have his way.

No, I don't believe I'll ever be rid of him.

Yeah, this time it seems worse. Yesterday, as I sat alone, he approached me and told me how worthless I am. Tells me he should get rid of me altogether. Tells me he’d be doing the world a favor. So, what's different this time? As bad as it's gotten, I’ve never entertained the thought that he might harm me.

Now, I don't know. I feel like he is going to betray what little trust we have.

So? Same time next week?