Is a Narcissist Really Crying for Me?

“He’s not crying about you,” says my sister.

“No,” I say. “He was really emotional. He said that movie is our story.”

“I’m sure he was emotional,” she says. “I’m sure he cried but it had nothing to do with you. He’s crying for himself.”

“He seemed sincere,” I said.

“Your husband lacks empathy,” she said.

My sister is insightful.

She spoke these words before my husband was diagnosed as lacking empathy, and having narcissistic personality disorder on the far end of the spectrum.

The psychologist’s exact words…

“Your husband is one of the three most severe personalities I’ve ever counseled.”

I should have run.

I didn’t.

I remained in my marriage another five years.

I couldn’t bring myself to give up on him.

He could be as charismatic as he could be cruel. He could be as seemingly loving as he was vacant. Anyone who has experienced true narcissism understands their emotional Yin and yang.

A narcissist is confusing.

The night in question we were watching The Notebook.

We’d watched it before.

This night was different. I’d told my husband I was thinking of leaving him. He’d worked hard to win me back. At the time, I didn’t think it was possible. I no longer felt attached to him.

His tears shocked me.

He cried over nothing.

He didn’t even cry over normal things like loss.

“That’s our story,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked

“It’s our story,” he said. “You and me. I pursued you but you had no interest in me. But I didn’t give up, and you finally came around. We ended up together.”

I can’t lie.

I found his comment endearing.

My husband never spoke like this.

He wasn’t deep, or sentimental. He didn’t profess his thoughts to me. He did tell me he loved me. He did tell me I was beautiful, or that I looked good in an outfit.

But he never said anything of substance.

I wanted to believe him.

I needed those tears to be about us.

I’m smarter now.

I’ve spent years in the counseling, and research of love, relationships, and narcissistic personality disorder. A narcissist only feels their own pain. They’re unable to feel the pain of others.

A narcissist’s lack of empathy prevents them from seeing outside of their own world, and into the world of another. A narcissist can’t place themselves into someone else’s shoes.

Narcissistic personality disorder is a world of one.

No one else is permitted.

We only play roles in the world of a narcissist.

A narcissist employs us.

We are there to meet a narcissist’s needs, and wants. We are there to make a narcissist feel more grandiose. We are there to feed the non-existent esteem of a narcissist.

We are as imaginary in their world…

As a narcissist ultimately, is in our world.

My husband shed tears that night.

They were his, and his alone. They were meant for him. He owned them. They had nothing to do with me. I had threatened a narcissist by attempting to leave him.

I’d shaken his world order.

He didn’t love me, he needed me.

He was crying for his version of narcissistic perfection.

When he told me it was ‘our story,’ it was how I fit into ‘his story.’

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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