The willingness to truly see Painter as who she is means seeing myself as I am in that pattern. And to see this truth is to live with remorse and regret, and experience sorrowful grief.
I'm not ungrateful. Painter's gift is really a reminder to myself that she is not who she pretends to be, and because of that, I owe her nothing but time and distance.
I was never confused about Painter’s decision to end the relationship. Although I was hurt and sad, I was never confused. I understood.
Painter is unsafe and dangerous for me because I struggle to see her for what she does. I sometimes forget how skillful -- and willing -- she is at getting other people to carry her water.