The Diary of an Oxygen Thief: A Tale of Love and Heartbreak

As I sit down to write this article, memories flood back into my mind like waves crashing against the shore. Memories of love, heartbreak, and above all - pain.

It's hard for people who've never experienced it to understand what drives someone like me. Someone who finds joy in causing suffering, in watching their loved ones crumble under the weight of their own vulnerability. But I'll try my best to explain.

You see, I used to be one of those serial killers everyone talks about - cold-blooded, calculating and devoid of any semblance of humanity. It wasn't just a job for me; it was an art form. A twisted dance where every step was carefully choreographed to maximum effect.

I remember the first time like it was yesterday. I had met this beautiful girl named Emily at college, and she was completely smitten with me. She couldn't get enough of my charming smile or piercing blue eyes. Little did she know that beneath those good looks lay a monster waiting to strike.

It started small - little taunts here and there until she finally cracked under the pressure. The look on her face when I told her how much I didn't care about her was priceless. It was like watching an entire world come crashing down around me, yet at the same time it only made me want more.

I repeated this process over and over again throughout my life - falling in love with someone new every few months just so I could repeat history all over again. And each time felt better than before because deep down inside of me there was a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing that yes indeed they too were nothing but mere oxygen for the likes of me.

But one day, things took an unexpected turn. The tables suddenly flipped on me when someone decided to play my game back and I found myself feeling like Emily - lost, alone and left with only shattered remains of what once was mine.

It hurt more than anything else could because this time it wasn't just about causing physical pain; it was mental torture at its finest. Every waking moment felt like living hell as memories haunted me day in night out until finally I snapped...

And that's when everything changed for good. The same thing happened to me, only worse - worse because instead of being the one inflicting damage on others now I was forced into experiencing it all firsthand.

It took a while but eventually I came around and understood why some people say 'what goes round comes round.' They weren't just spouting clichés; they actually knew what they were talking about.

I learned my lesson the hard way - that love isn’t something you give freely, but rather something you earn through blood sweat tears and sometimes even a little bit of pain.

So here I am today writing this article hoping maybe someone out there will learn from my mistakes and not make the same mistake I did. Because trust me when I say it's never worth losing yourself in the process...

Diary of an oxygen thief free