Self-Pity Is the Worst Form of Narcissism

Standing alone in a crowd
Screaming to be heard above the noise

There was a kid I knew once. He told me that he was going to grow up and be famous. I looked him in the eye and killed his dream with just one sentence: "You better have a fallback plan, kid."

Give me a reason, and I'll let you go, but I reserve the right to reject your reasoning.

Continuity is for those who can't comprehend the abstract.

"If you ask me to, I'll stay."

I stood there silently, looking in any direction except hers. I could feel her eyes on me, and without looking I knew their expression: deep wells slowly filling to the brim, ready to overflow either with joy or pain, all depending on my next words. I couldn't possibly say anything. I knew what was right, but I just couldn't stand to be the one to break a person, so I just held my tongue. Eventually though, that just brought about a worse reaction. The silence stretched on. It had long since become unbearable, and yet we bore it, preferring it to the coming storm. I was the one who broke first, as I silently took one step away from her. I picked her jacket up off the chair and as I held it toward her I reached for her hand. She understandably pulled away. How could I have done this thing? When did I become someone who put himself in this situation? How could I fix this? I vaguely remember the slamming of the front door as I slumped onto the couch in the silence of my own living room, where all I could think about was me, and what a fool I've been.

Self-pity is the worst form of narcissism.

Good night.