I can’t stop him from coming to see me.
However much I pray, I plead, I beg and I believe, he comes.
Sometimes I know he’s coming. There’s the shiver of the back, the creeping dread, the sixth sense that says he’s around, although I can’t see him.
Other times, I get no warning. He just appears next to me, whispering foul things into my ear. You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough.
I try to fight him, but he just disappears into wisps of air, re-forming a short distance away with that menacing grin. He enjoys this. I know he does.
You’ll never be good enough for anyone.
I’ve tried running away. I’ve tried standing up to him. I’ve tried ignoring him. But he’s always won. He always wins.
You’re worthless. You’re nothing. There are a million better choices than you.
When he’s finished with me, who will he go after next?