I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, because I trusted you so much initially, yet I can't seem to muster the humility you seem to be attempting to provoke in me.
Your beautiful articulations have been replaced with daggers. They place you as the (self-proclaimed) expert, trying to do a good deed, and me as an ignorant woman not self-realized enough to appreciate your sacred gift.
The irony is that all of that is actually the opposite, or perhaps maybe a version of both, but I let it go. I don't care enough to fight you.
How insulted I am to be told, in the same text, that you have "relatively good communication skills". You avoided all conversations and removed yourself from the intensity that my proximity evoked then cowardly send me a scathing text. Frankly, I expected more.
Your jab at how, since I feel this way, I've made it more complicated than it needs to be, is a ripple in the facade that you are the rational, well-meaning holy one with good intentions.
I won't justify my path to enlightenment with you. I won't explain what I've done to propel myself to this magical place I frequent. You didn't take the time to understand me and know me. The last thing I want is advice on how to be like you.