Roses are Red, Violets are Blue
Your narcissist doesn’t give a damn about you
I remember the exact moment his face changed, and his blue eyes lost their warmth.
It was during our honeymoon. It did not go particularly smoothly, but then I had never even kissed anyone.
When he finally kissed me at the beach condo, it felt like kissing a rubber glove. Nothing, nada, no sparks, no warmth, no glow, no attraction.
This was what I had waited for my whole life?
I should have run off into the night.
But I was raised to stick with things. And I was desperate for love…I thought it would grow. I was taught that love is work. I was told that arranged marriages lasted longer than love matches.
…and I blamed myself for everything, which I realize is a toxic trait. But that’s what I was taught. “No doubt the trouble is with you,” the plaque at my university said.
The version of himself he showed me at the beginning?
It never returned. There were flashes of it, maybe.
The truth?
He doesn’t give a damn. He can’t, if he’s a narcissist.
The hell of it is that it feels like he does, at the beginning.
