The Narcissist Wants You Back… But Here’s Why They Can’t

See, the soul can only cry out so long before it goes silent. Grace, when abused, doesn’t stay forever; it turns to grief, and grief in its time turns to wisdom. Oh, we try—oh, how we try. We explain, we defend, we hold out hope like lanterns in the night, praying maybe, just maybe, this time they’ll see. But they don’t; they won’t. They’re not built to hear you.

You were holding out an empty cup to a well that was dry from the start, asking love to flow where it never lived. But don’t you dare wear shame for trying. That wasn’t your flaw; it was your gift. That soft, sacred part of you that believed, that hoped, that saw healing when the world said run—that was your glory. That’s what made you rare.

But let me say this with fire: don’t let that glory keep you tied to a tomb. Don’t make a home in a graveyard. It’s time to rise—not crawl, not whisper. Rise with fire in your bones and your eyes fixed forward. Walk into the life that’s been waiting—the one with peace instead of performance, clarity instead of chaos, truth instead of trauma.

And the narcissist? They’re still playing dress-up in a kingdom of illusions, clinging to a dream they shattered with their own hands. They don’t want redemption; they want your silence. They want the version of you who begged, who broke, who kept the door open out of mercy. But that version is gone, like fog in the sunrise, and the new you is awake—grounded, untouchable.

Knock. Let them wait. Let them wonder. The shop is closed, the lights are off, and the curtain has dropped on the show they used to star in. There’s no comeback tour; it’s been replaced by something holy. You’re becoming. And if you’re still here, still breathing in these words, then hear this with your soul wide open: this isn’t about who’s watching. This isn’t for followers, likes, or applause. This is your burning bush moment, your sign from heaven that says, “No more.”

No more explaining, no more chasing, no more shrinking to fit inside someone else’s fantasy. If you’ve been waiting for permission to let go, this is it. If you’ve been looking for a sign to stop scrolling through ghosts, you just found it. You are awake now, and once you wake up, you never go back to sleep again.

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