Which means what?" I demanded. "That I'm nothing? That I'm not a person? That you can do anything you want to me and it's okay? You're so full of it! But you're wrong. I know that I do matter. I am important. And you're a pathetic, cold, pointless wastoid who's going to grow old alone and die, then roast in limbo forever.
"Which means what?" I demanded. "That I'm nothing? That I'm not a person? That you can do anything you want to me and it's okay?" I was angry, feeling dismissed and devalued. I wanted to assert my worth and importance, refusing to accept being treated as insignificant.
"You're so full of it! But you're wrong. I know that I do matter. I am important," I declared. I contrasted myself with the other person, criticizing them as a "pathetic, cold, pointless wastoid" who would end up alone and in limbo after death, emphasizing my belief in my own significance and critique of their perceived emptiness.
