You're back again. This time whining and crying about "Why can't we work out?". For the millionth time, I'm hearing you make a case about your "stable" central government job, your abundant love for me, or whatever else typical Indian mothers want their daughters to have. All the while, you are blissfully ignorant about the toxic, chauvinistic creep you are. Like any deranged man, you get all your power by "saving me" when I'm down. You don't find yourself useful when I'm okay, so I always have to be down for this relationship to work. Around you, the only role I can play is a damsel in distress. 

But you know what's the worst part about the comeback you're trying to make? The fact that you're only alarmed and worried because I'm about to marry the man I love. You think you're at the brink of losing me forever. But you lost me a long, long time ago when-

I always had to be drunk or high to have sex with you because I can't bear having you around when I'm sober,

I was forced to quit my job so I could be ready to skip around from village to village to support you,

For even assuming that I would "freelance online" because "I won't need the money anyway",

You thought I'd enjoy waiting for you alone at home in the middle of nowhere, instead of having a full house of people with in-laws and everything.

But what really takes the cake is this-

If I told my fiance that I wanted to marry you, he'd put my happiness first and get out of the way. If I told you that I wanted anything other than what you think is right for me, you'd try to "fix" me. The amount of manipulation you can do might qualify you to be a CIA operative or something. Maybe you should try that. 

You can't provide the basic decency to respect my choices. You suck at it. You've failed at it over and over again. In fact, I'll bet my life that you have zero empathy and you're a psychopath who has blended into society. You have to hear this and burn these words into your brain- no amount of your fake chivalry or grand gestures will ever redeem you.

This is the bed you made. Now lie in it alone forever.

Boy, bye.

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