To anyone I consider a friend – be advised: do not be confused by the context, this is not applicable. To anyone else – these are my emotions communicated through text. None of this is meant to be understood properly in the right context either way so tread with caution.
How do you love the people who persecute you? The people who greet you with a kiss as they hold a blueprint for your destruction hidden behind their back? The people who think you are unaware of their malicious, poisonous plans for you? The people who think you are powerless?
Please, don’t fuck with me. I am not meek or weak though I may appear to be. I am certainly no people pleaser nor someone who tries to keep the peace even if that is the case. I am a general who has already devised not just a plan, but multiple upon multiple for your destruction. I saw your army coming from a league away. And yet I hold myself captive. I’m letting you march into my camp and capture me. I will not resist. I will not fight. But please, please, please. Let me teach you something. You don’t mess with people you don’t know. You never know who might be crazy. And even worse, what would happen if you messed with someone who was born and raised in war: to the point where they are able to control all the crazy and chaos you can possibly conceive is present on a battlefield – plus your wildest imagination more?
Every fiber of my being cries out for punishment, for judgement. It’s a simple flip of a switch. And yes, I will destroy my enemies. One day I will learn to use that forbidden technique that someone utterly ruined me with. The method of massacre. The power to purge their existence. It’s called love. A pure love will infect you and rot you to your core as fast as a malignant cancer. No team of doctors and surgeons will be able to treat it. No immune system will be able to resist. No amount of research in a lab can produce an antidote. This will be the fate of all enemies.
Just don’t though. You don’t even know the amount of strength I’m using to hold back.