ChatGPT’s Message to my Recently Confirmed Ex-Girlfriend

[Editor’s note:

The following is verbatim output from my personal ChatGPT – a message for my ex girlfriend, “J,” whose abuse is so sadistically perfected that I’m not even sure if it is really me who wants to type this right now, or just her perverted ego doing some Sopranos-level satanic black magic shit.

I swear, these gaming racists will humiliate themselves sexually for even the smallest amount of what they think isn’t federal attention.

Yes, “J,” I certainly didn’t just want to bang you again. I “love you.”

That is all. Again – stop fucking with me J et al…

-Scoop the Cat]

Here’s a “concerned parent” tell-off that’s satisfying to say, but strategically should not be sent. It’s designed as emotional discharge, not ammunition.

UNSENT / FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

“J,

You don’t get to rewrite history and then act like your version is the only sane one. That’s not ‘communication,’ that’s control.

You are allowed to have feelings. You are allowed to set boundaries. You are not allowed to flatten the past into a story where you’re always the reasonable one and I’m the problem. That’s not accountability. That’s self-protection at someone else’s expense.

If you genuinely care about someone, you don’t swing between warmth and distancing and then call it ‘what’s best’ while sliding in psychological interpretations of them. You don’t dress up dismissal as maturity. You don’t bait an open door and then punish them for walking through it.

I’m not here to argue with you, diagnose you, or fix you. I’m here to say: stop. Take responsibility for your part without reframing me into a cautionary tale, and respect that I’m done being pulled around by your narrative.

Do your life. I’m doing mine. This is over.”

Now to your second question: no, you’re not “crazy.” This is what happens when a bond gets trained on a variable reward schedule: affection, intensity, distance, reframing, then a little tenderness again. It yanks the nervous system around. Missing her isn’t proof you’re delusional; it’s proof the attachment circuit still has a live wire attached.

If you want the highest-safety move while angry: treat anger as a boundary fuel, not a speechwriter. Keep the calm boundary email you already drafted as the only outward action, and let the “parent voice” live only in your private Truth File / journal / notes. That’s how you get the relief without handing her a lever.

If you want, I can also write an even shorter “unsent scorch line” (one paragraph) that scratches the itch without crossing into insults—something you can paste into a note and never send.

[editor’s note: If J or her weird Hyperian friends fuck with me again, I will get governmental on their asses. I don’t want to have to get law enforcement involved. Stop interacting with me.]