A Love Letter From Hell

Dear Readers,

I want to tell you about a man named Ben.

Soft, sweet, charming Ben.

But Ben has a secret.

Ben isn’t a hero.

He’s not the steady man anyone could rely on.

He’s Just Ben™.

A man who convinces women they are too much, when in truth, he has nothing to give.

Ben mistakes withholding for wisdom.He calls detachment "restraint."

He mistakes cowardice for coolness and calls it his calm.

He is the kid still waiting for a ghost to return.

To love him back.

Underneath all the calm, Ben is an abandoned boy who begged for love he never got.

Ben became the “good son.”He clung to his mother like an oxygen mask.

But he never grew into his own man.

Instead, he became a reflection of the very man he resented.

Emotionally vacant.

Quietly cruel.

Unavailable by design.

Ben inherited abandonment—and made it other women’s burden to carry.

It’s like he is on a revenge loop—he will lap at every drop of affection pops decides to sprinkle but will turn it against the women who make him feel special.

Perhaps he learned that love is returned by absence.

Ben’s desperation and revenge come to those who are his reflections—Where he becomes his father and he’s the one with the breadcrumbs and the power.

He’s not evil, but he is harmful.

Not a villain, but broken.

He’s the cowardly lion who will always pick flight over fight.

He talks about “boundaries” and “emotional capacity,” but those are just shields.

Ben doesn’t love.

He auditions for admiration.

He breadcrumb-feeds women warmth, then retreats—Gaslighting them when they ask for the very connection he pretended to offer.

He will make you think you’re insane, for he wraps dysfunction up into a beautiful package and sells it to you as his only redemption.

But no one is buying it.

I guess that fancy business degree isn’t all he cracked it up to be.

Ben desperately wants love, but poor Ben doesn’t know how to handle it.

So much, that not even Ben loves Ben.

I don’t blame him.It’s not easy to love Ben.

All his girlfriends are “crazy.”

When they cry, question, and quietly break—Ben hides.

He calls them “loco,” tells his friends he “just attracts unstable girls,” and walks away with his hands clean.

Ben knows better than that.

He knows he is the reason they spiral.

He is the mindfuck.

He is their crazy.

Ben hates me because he couldn’t hide from me.

He couldn’t sell me his fantasy.

He couldn’t make me believe I’m crazy.

He met his mirror, and it will chase him for the rest of his life.

That’s my legacy.

I showed Ben that he is not a misunderstood nice guy.

He is not emotionally intelligent.

He is not above the chaos he creates.

He is just a coward with daddy issues.

Benny- I’m sorry your father didn’t show you how to love.

I wish that were your burden alone, but too many of us now carry the cost.

Sad Ben—if all the girls you date are crazy, they’re not the problem.

But dear sweet Ben.I would have loved your cowardice and your daddy issues and your mama.

The real tragedy is that you’re too much of a coward to admit how scared you really are.

And you’re scared of me because I see you, no?

So go.

You’re free of me.

But you will never outrun the version of yourself I forced you to face.

You are the dark cloud that dampens our judgements.

The joker who makes us question reality.

You are a bad partner.

Not because you’re evil, no.

It’s because you’re not brave enough to see how damaged and broken you really are.

And I don’t really want damaged goods that refuse to mend.

Yours truly,

Barbie