Are you staring at my tits again? I knew it. You’re pathetic. But here’s the thing: you like it when I call you pathetic, don’t you? It makes you weirdly happy to be insulted. You’re stuck in a sad little cycle of validation and shame, all wound up together. You like feeling bad about feeling good about feeling bad. Pathetic.

Are you staring at my tits again? I knew it. You’re pathetic. But here’s the thing: you like it when I call you pathetic, don’t you? It makes you weirdly happy to be insulted. You’re stuck in a sad little cycle of validation and shame, all wound up together. You like feeling bad about feeling good about feeling bad. Pathetic.