Hi, Iâm Sam. And this is my villain origin story.
This is a response to this post on his public blog, therefore my reply will also be public.
First off, I have been pretty constantly abused emotionally, mentally, and financially for almost 6 years by tumblr user @happysadyoyoâ, or Icarus, or Isaiah, or D mun. From March 2016 to August 2022 we were friends and rp partners and I gave him everything I had to keep him happy, but it was never enough. I canât count the number of times heâs insulted me, unfriended me, threatened suicide, and treated me like absolute shit for not just one fucking year.
You havenât changed, Icarus. At all. The only thing youâve truly improved at is how to twist the blame off of you and back around to other people with a more therapist-friendly vocabulary. You didnât own up to shit. The whole fight started because you acted just like you always have and got righteous over me having a life and not doing a request that you actually did not even make. A request that if you had made, I would have turned down, because Iâve changed since 2017. I have more responsibilities, and you are fully aware of that, since youâve had a mental breakdown over every single adulthood milestone Iâve hit while being in your life.
That old system required me to bend over backwards, become a slave to my phone, withdraw from my old friends, my family, my husband, my job, and my schooling. You once got mad at me because sex with my husband took longer than you thought it shouldâve taken. You got mad at me because I fell asleep. Yet I still tried my very best to do it because back then I was a willing doormat, and still that was never enough for you. You told me youâll never be happy. You told your (then) spouse youâll never be happy. Why are we subjecting ourselves to this horrifying ordeal of having to please you, never thinking of ourselves, when it will never ever matter?
And on the topic of spouses. Chase, my husband of 13 years, has done more for me than you could ever conceive of doing for B. Heâs held me and comforted me countless times when youâve repeatedly driven me to panic attacks and mental breaks. Heâs seen every chat log, every text, every rp you have ever sent to me. You have no right to talk about him at all, much less talk about how much you want me to divorce the father of my child when you have done a million worse things to my psyche. I invited you to spend time with me on a wonderful vacation you wouldnât be able to afford on your own and you still werenât happy because you wanted me alone all to yourself. You wanted me to tell my husband to leave me alone for a day. On our vacation. And youâve brought that up to me more than 3 times and a few more to B.Â
B and I have been talking a lot ever since you had your surgery, I owe them the courage I now have to say enough is enough. After telling them about the hell my rp character has been through, they told me they donât understand why Dwayne is dating D. That was the wake up call I needed, that your (then) spouse thinks our characters shouldnât be together. That even this reboot is filled with more drama and immaturity than is reasonable. And of course it is. D is your self insert and the things Dwayne has been put through B has also had to endure. You once got mad that Dwayne wore a dress you donât like. The funny thing about this post is that B feels similar to how I feel about the pressure you put on your rp partners. I started rping with B with John, and Moss with Luke, and Iâve been having more fun writing than Iâve ever had in years, and my rp circle is only getting wider.Â
Itâs been so much longer than just a year. I mourn all the long time friends Iâve lost because I chose to stand by you. I have lost so much of my life to depression caused by the weight of every day dreading your messages, what new hell will you bring that I can do nothing about, nothing but disappoint you and then have my failures repeatedly brought up as a grudge of yours for the rest of our friendship. You made me think I am a terrible person, an idiot who canât keep to a simple standard or write with any creativity that is even a fraction of your absurd self-arrogance regarding writing and art. I thought it was just me. B thought it was just them. We compared pages upon pages of messages from you, how you talk to us, talk about us, and we realized that the problem is not us. We did not need to improve.
I once considered you my closest friend and now I struggle to separate what was real and what was trauma bonding. I want to say I loved you. I want to say that it was real. But if it ever was, you have long since beaten it out of me. Itâs been made crystal clear that I was never a person to you, just a therapy trophy, an achievement, a statistic for you to quote as proof of how much youâve âchangedâ
Now? I hate you. You are NOT a good person. You are a monster.
I know we will become the next Lile and Ashley when you talk of us to your next group of friends. They will fawn over you like we once did and hate us for how weâve mistreated you and they will never understand the mental strain that lead to this. I actually genuinely fear for your next close friend, but my soul is so light now that B and I are both free that I cannot bring myself to care. No more walking on eggshells and fearing your moods! No more verbal beat downs! No more constant ârps on youâ
Also: Fuck you. Get my babyâs name out of your head. Delete any pictures you saved. You are a stranger to my baby and always will be.
Now I have a tumbleweed to lay out the welcome mat for.
