The words in the title were (allegedly) used to describe me.
The word "sadist" means "someone who enjoys inflicting pain on others, most often for sexual gratification." It can also mean "deliberate cruelty."
The person who said this is someone I don't communicate with or associate with on any level. And the reason for that is because "sadist" is one of the words I would use to describe them.
So much irony...
Considering the source, the words don't have much of an effect, except in one way that surprised me: those words didn't hurt me, but they hurt the people who love me.
That got me thinking and I had a major epiphany: I could get on social media or use this blog to talk about every nasty thing this person has ever said or done, to me and to others close to me. I could write things that would make you sick to read, talk about things that would make you sick to hear.
But it wouldn't make a difference to this person at all, and it would accomplish exactly one thing: it would inflict pain on the people who love them.
And the ones who love me and them are the same people.
I've had to ask myself this: Is my level of hate for one person greater than the love I have for the ones around me? Because if the answer is yes, then let the dirty laundry be aired. Let the secrets be shouted from rooftops. Let the dictionary of unsavory terms be used.
No. In fact, God forbid I ever get to the point where I trample on the feelings of loved ones just to make a point about someone I don't love an iota.
I've come dangerously close. I've looked into the faces of loved ones and said, "Why can't you just admit what they are? Why can't you just acknowledge that they're pure evil?? Don't you care about that at all?"
How ugly I must have seemed in those moments of confrontation. How could I ask them to face someone they love and see only the monster I see? It doesn't hurt the monster, it hurts them.
Would I gain satisfaction from proving my point at the expense of pain to others?
Wouldn't that make me a sadist?
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