What first struck me about the Narcissist was that he was fun and goofy at times.
I was captivated by the engaging conversations we had and how effortless it felt to chat with him. Then came the love-bombing: he wanted to be with me constantly, and he genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with me, doing all kinds of things together.
Though it all came on too fast, and I wasn’t entirely ready, I tried hard to accept his love, convincing myself that this was what I always wanted.
I later learned that he always used the same techniques to impress women – the same jokes, the same moves, the same scenarios, even the same words. It made me realize that he was never genuine; he was simply following a well-known, established script.
He stuck around even when I was still talking to my ex. In hindsight, I see this as manipulation -pushing me toward him instead of giving me the freedom, the time and the space to choose. But at the time, I appreciated it, thinking I’d never met someone so intent on being with me.
But there was much more to him.
He knew how to read people, noticing immediately when my mood shifted and always asking what was wrong. Unlike many men who ignore the obvious signs when a girl is upset, he seemed to care. If I didn’t want to talk, he’d put on some Led Zeppelin for me. When I felt overwhelmed or couldn’t get out of bed, their music would lift my spirits. I’d share a fun fact about the band, and that small moment would make me feel better.
He later admitted that he had trained himself to be perceptive, to read body language and expressions.
It wasn’t something that came naturally to him.
The only times he didn’t ask what was troubling me were when I was clearly hurt or angry with him. But otherwise, he was always attentive.
The problem was his desperate need to be liked.
He couldn’t tolerate any perception of himself that didn’t match his ideal image, nor would he accept criticism. If anything he did was hurtful or mean, he’d shut down, ignoring me until I brought it up. Even then, he’d dodge responsibility with excuses: “I didn’t mean it that way,” or “It was just a joke.” He would apologize only through messages, where he could craft the perfect response – but I always doubted the sincerity.
He’d make up stories to justify his behavior, creating fake sence of commitment to others, fake friend problems, or fake ex-girlfriend issues to shift blame away from himself. I didn’t see it for what it was at the time: a tactic to paint himself as an innocent victim of circumstance.
When caught in wrongdoing, he was helpless, unable to process the idea that he might be in the wrong. This contrasted with the perfect image he held of himself, so there had to be another explanation, another person or situation to blame.
If he couldn’t avoid accountability, he’d agree to whatever I suggested just to end the torture of being seen as imperfect.
For him, simply offering an explanation for his behavior was enough.
He could go back to his day-to-day life without truly understanding what he did or why it was hurtful. Many times, he attempted grand gestures to make me smile – suggesting we get a puppy, proposing trips that never happened, even consulting friends to find out what was wrong, despite the hours I’d spent trying to explain it to him.
The narcissist couldn’t understand why grand gestures were pointless; they had nothing to do with the real issue – they were just for show, lacking true meaning. He was trying, once again, to appear as the good person just doing his best. But he couldn’t address the real problem: his behavior, his way of handling criticism, and his tendency to invalidate my emotions.
He just couldn’t grasp the extent of the hurt he’d caused.
He hadn’t been prepared for it and didn’t understand it, so he desperately tried to move on, attributing it to my depression or dissociating from it entirely. In his mind, he had already explained – why was I still hurting? Why couldn’t I move on as easily as he did? He simply couldn’t comprehend.
He would say all the right things, especially in front of others: ‘I will do my best to show you every day that I’m trustworthy. I want to take your pain away. I wish I could go back and do things differently.’ Yet, despite countless chances to prove he had learned from his mistakes, he kept making the same dishonest and disrespectful choices over and over.
And then, he would find a reason why it didn’t matter or why this time it was different, claiming I was exaggerating or asking for too much: honesty, loyalty and respect.
The disconnect between the facts, his involvement, and his responsibility was so strong that even I started to believe it.
If one side of the equation was certain, then the other must be wrong.
So, I concluded - it must have been me.
I believe he felt genuine emotions, that some of his feelings were real. But every emotion ultimately served his own interests, with self-preservation and the maintenance of his image being his strongest motivations.