“Have you heard of BPD”

I, me, BPD, am looking at myself, smirking, satisfied with the response I’m getting. Good, I revel in the pain I’m causing – I know that she deserves it, she should have paid attention because she knew all along… Idiot. The betrayal stabs me like a knife, burning, spreading. I continue to stab myself in the back… again… again… again… It feels so good, so comfortable… I’m home.