Narcissistic love is almost a relationship.
Judge me if you will, but I loved him, despite his professed player persona, and he loved me—or at least loved me enough to suggest that I was a woman like no other, the kind of woman he would have married if I had been more and more available. If he was more open to the idea.
We flirted for months, secretly kissed, and stole some time. I fell in love with him – hard.
Three years later, it still sucks for me. He’s not geographically available, I’m not technically available, and even if he were and I am, I have a suspicion (based on straight-faced facts) that we wouldn’t be that much more formal.
He may call me girlfriend, but I’ve known him long enough to know that even the people he calls that aren’t exactly his name.
But, yeah, he has more options than me. And his behavior towards me becomes hot and cold. We email — sometimes frequently, sometimes rarely. I pulled away, I pulled away. We end up talking again, and each time, I think he’s come to see me as an important person who deserves to be treated with proper attention and care.
Related: How To Leave A Narcissist
I recently started wondering if he was one of the narcissists I read about. There are more than a few Instagram accounts (and websites and articles) dedicated to this type: They love you with their attention, affection, and declarations that you’re unlike anyone else.
They may, in some way, triangulate (i.e. tell you about other people they are involved with or have been with, making you think you understand them in ways that others do not). They make you feel crazy, wondering if you’ve done something to upset them. And they get rid of you. Some of them insult you, attack you, insult you, and abuse you.
I had – and still have – difficulty steadying my legs.
He shared a lot of narcissistic traits with me and I often feel bad, but I can’t say he was ever truly cruel to me in any overt way. We never had a real relationship, so was it fair for me to get upset when he became cold or unable to communicate?
Was it like being ignored? After all, he still tells me how much he respects and likes me, wants my friendship, and acknowledges that underneath that friendship there is an attraction and connection that won’t die, even if we don’t act on it a few times a year. We see each other for a few hours.
No, he’s not a narcissist… I think. Just bad communication, he says. But I’m not a bad communicator. I may not explain everything, but he’s a smart guy and I know he should know I have feelings and hope and a lot of hurt.
He knows I’ve slammed the door in his face so many times because hope hurts. Even if you keep quiet, it will eventually come back. But I know – and he knows – that he doesn’t care the way I do. So why can’t he/she let me go?
So, I return to the narcissistic label.
Narcissists have this in common: They each need supply. It comes in different forms, but narcissists love attention, whether positive or negative. For many of them, the offer takes the form of a crush they can count on to continue to want them. (And yes, narcissists often ask to remain friends with their exes.)
But then I go through the checklists and wonder, is he really a narcissist?
I recently discovered the truth of how I stay trapped in my infatuation. Anytime I get into a tailspin, I think it’s a matter of two disparate hopes.
One, he’ll say, “Look, it’s not like that for me. This will never happen and not just because of our situation. We have to let go of each other.” Or secondly, He will reassure me in some way that refreshes my heart.
And when I write to him, I somehow urge him to close the door forever, knowing that he will reassure me, and keep me there for another day.
This, by the way, is why you’re reading this: A person you love (or think you love) is a narcissist if you know you can communicate with them — in anger, or confusion, or sadness, or whatever — and you know they will do so somehow. Say: “No, my dear, that’s not all at all.”
You can and should read about other signs; It might help. But if you repeatedly feel bad and forgotten, and you repeatedly learn that you can be told that is not the case at all, they are narcissists. Maybe it’s not the worst ever, but it tortures you in a way.
I realize that this cruelty gets worse because it makes you feel like you are wrong. It makes you think, “I shouldn’t have asked them. I’m wasting their time. I’m pretending to be needy. I’m doubting their love.”
But sorry (and I say this to myself too): doubt is normal in a lot of healthy relationships, but if that’s a theme in your life, you’re not with the right person. No one should keep you wondering if you’re worth the effort.
So, if you reach out to them and they say, “Oh, honey, you know how much you mean to me” (in whatever term suits them) and you buy it, and if a few weeks or months go by, you notice again that they barely have enough in your life to know what you do every day, Or even every week, every month, you have to ask yourself, “Am I enjoying this?”
