Really? So how are you going to convince me to do that?
It’s kind of a big ask, if you think about it. I mean, to ruin your life would mean alienating you from your loved ones, wrecking your ambitions and potential, weakening your body, and permanently disrupting your ability to feel unconditional love… that’s a lot of work, and a lot of responsibility.
After I’ve picked you apart and abandoned whatever remains, what’s to stop me from feeling the occasional twinge of guilt? I’m a functional, mildly empathetic human being, after all; to feel good about destroying something, I’d need to know it had no intrinsic value. You’d need to be so worthless as a girl that your destruction would be the moral equivalent of doing a controlled burn of a parched and wasted forest.
Do you have it in you to make that case? To be honest, I’m skeptical.
But I’m willing to be surprised.