RidaRunka's Story

Rida's Story

I began doing on-line Google searches on narcissism, when after five months of not returning my messages, M sent me a birthday greeting on Facebook---on his own birthday- a week later than mine. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but after so long of an absence, and after years of built up resentment, it was my last straw.
Given the stories I have read on this blog about broken marriages, addiction, abuse, custody battles, and financial devastation, my losses are comparatively few. I did not marry this man. He was not my boyfriend, my business partner, nor the father of my children---to which I say, “Thank God!” I thank God because I had my circumstances been different, I might have a very different story to tell.
During the 18 years that I have known M, some of those years having no contact between us, one or both of us have been married or involved with someone else. We met at work and the chemistry between us was palpable. Fortunately, I was married and he had a live-in girlfriend and both of us had the good sense to keep a lid on our feelings. I never realized until recently that it was for him more about an inability to handle complex emotions than any personal or m sacrifice on his part. Had I been single, I think he would have been too frightened to pursue things beyond perhaps a brief physical relationship. It may not sound consistent with a narcissist, but paralyzing fear of meeting any challenge with an emotional component, is certainly a hallmark of M’s personality. He was attracted to me for a number of attributes that he respected but that would have proven too emotionally threatening in something more substantial. Instead, he involved himself with women who were seemingly vulnerable and needy. Eventually, they would always fail to live up to his high expectations and he would complain about their various flaws to me. Oddly, it was they who always abandoned him in the end. Me he put up on a strange pedestal, unattainable and not quite fully human. Idealized love.

After two years in this growing friendship, I had come to a cross roads in my life—I was starting a new career, had just bought a house, and was starting a family with my husband. M began to withdraw as I was starting to focus on other things. He lashed out by criticizing my weight gain when I was pregnant and was sullen and demanding about my participation in a musical project he had been working on, even when I told him I was on bed rest. The day after I gave birth, he called me at the hospital to tell me about his political perspective on an issue, going on and on BEFORE asking about the baby or me. Falling in love with my newborn son, left me with little time or energy for M. Eventually he met someone and moved across the country and we didn’t talk for about ten years.

Some months after the death of my brother, feeling low and introspective, I Googled M and found his picture, a resume, and an e-mail online. I had thought of him often over the years and decided to open the door again to his friendship, this time at the safe distance of a thousand miles. He was thrilled to hear from me. He had young kids but his marriage was in shambles. He was no further in his music career than he was ten years earlier. He was hungry for an audience and I walked into that role effortlessly. For the next six years, via telephone, e-mail, and FB, we forged a pattern of communication---he would tell me all about his brilliant insights, his disappointments in others, while I would chime in with affirmations, mirroring his ideas and propping up his self-esteem.

There was a part of me that knew this was a lop-sided friendship, but there was something about his seeming reliance on me along with his endearing idiosyncrasies, that held me fast. We talked for hours and hours every week. I would sometimes roll my eyes at the things he said, or put down the phone for a few minutes until he finished a long soliloquy, but I addicted. I was determined to “help” him get in touch with his emotions about anything…when his parents died, when he fought with siblings, with his wife, or recalled sad incidents from his past.
I was flattered by my status as the one person who he said, “really got him, and got the truths of the world” even when I thought those particular truths were cliché and meaningless. Often times I would leave a conversation, feeling disappointment as if I were waiting for something…anything that recognized me as person worthy of love in my own right. Occasionally he would throw me a few crumbs off his table and those would sustain for me weeks. One never knew when they might come again. I was quick to make excuses for him when he forgot my birthday, holidays, or other milestones of importance. I pretended not to be bothered when I sent thoughtful gifts or messages and received nothing in return. I told myself that we were just friends so that things kinds of things should not matter. He couldn’t be expected to make these overtures, but as just a friend, he sure did expect me to be there for him.

Then would come the silences. On those occasions when I did not feel particularly in the mood to praise anyone, M would afterwards withdraw, not returning my calls or messages for weeks and even months. I would be overwrought at times. What had I done? Why was he angry? Was he all right? Had something happened to him? Eventually, he would turn up again insisting that he had been busy or just needed time to problem solve various issues in his life, none of which seemed ever find resolution, I was so frustrated. Still grieving the loss of my brother and mother within a few years of each other, coping with marital problems connected to devastating financial losses, I needed more reassurance about the health and well being of those around me. I explained this to him, but it fell on deaf ears like most of my feelings about anything. Scary test results on my mammogram, seemed to mean nothing to him. Feelings of despondency in the wake of my mother’s sudden death, didn’t seem worth many comments. I tried to always maintain a cheery, upbeat disposition, but there were times I couldn’t fake the funk and M had little patience for such trivial concerns.

After a few conversations last summer where M was overly critical of my appearance based on a photo I had posted on FB, and a few other seemingly random moments that reinforced the fact that he didn’t get me at all, I was exasperated. He maintained six months of silence, ignoring me completely, until that birthday message and another one that wished me Happy New Year three weeks after the fact, became the straw that broke the camel’s back. I replied with a well thought out letter, never critical, but explaining that I had gained insight about our friendship and felt that I would be better served without it. I explained how hurt I had been and how great it would be if he could at least wish me well as I wished him the same. What I got in return was a denial that the friendship was over. He said that I was the one who just didn’t get it, and that I failed to see that “this is just the beginning of our friendship.”

That was it. That was the point where I realized the depths of his narcissism. He refused to hear me, refused to acknowledge my pain, and worst of all, that I even had any say about the status of our friendship. It’s as if he doesn’t need me at all in his desire to maintain it.

I don’t need this anymore. I grieve it as I have done the many losses in my life. I know that eventually I will be fine. He is far away. I have a life with a supportive partner and my own family, and unlike M, many wonderful friends, but it is difficult. I feel foolish for being so taken in and for ignoring my own needs and instincts for so long. I feel foolish for emotionally giving so much to someone when I should have had been investing this time and energy at home or at work. I got sucked in due to my own desire to be needed and due to my own ridiculous fantasies of being loved by this man who never had a moment’s capability of really loving anyone. I just want to heal and forget.