Dead Eyes
The author Hilary Mantel once described the Duchess of Cambridge, Kate Middleton, as being “a plastic princess with dead eyes”. Now, the duchess is not one of us (we infiltrated the royal family by marrying in over 30 years ago) but we were drawn to the comment about dead eyes. We get that a lot. There is a fascination about our eyes and if memory serves, they draw the most comments about us physically that I can recall. I have variously had mine described as “Cold and dead, like a shark’s”, “like pieces of coal”, “green and envious”, “possessing that cold, chilling stare” and “lifeless”. An ex-girlfriend, Kate, would tell me that she loved my eyes. This was when I was seducing her. She explained that whenever she looked into them she saw herself reflected back and she loved this because she knew that she was very much “in my eye”. Interestingly enough, eight months later she referred to this reflection as “I look into your eyes and see nothing there, just my reflection looking back at me.” I always disliked her contradictory behaviour and failure to make her mind up.
These comments set me thinking as I am a reflective kind of fellow. As I explained in ‘Falling into Place’ I have learned how to create a mask of feigned emotion but it would appear that the one part of my face which was letting down the façade was my eyes. For some reason, no matter how hard I studied the emotions and reactions of others, this just did not happen with my eyes. As you know, I like to know the answers to everything and I did some reading around and observed that repeated people refer to the eyes as windows into the soul. There lay the answer to my conundrum; the soul and the eyes are inextricably linked. The absence of soul was being reflected in the deadening of my eyes. This required immediate attention and rectification. I now wear sunglasses a lot, even indoors.
15 thoughts on “Dead Eyes”
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On a tangential topic, but very fascinating to look into the eyes of somebody who is very genuinely emotional and empathetic. I can’t really describe what it is. I don’t even know how it works. I’ve been observing this with my current partner lately. When I tell him about things in my past that were hurtful to me, even things that did not trouble me in particular but are generally perceived as being harmful, it’s almost like the texture(?) of his eyes changes. That’s a very poor word choice, but there’s some sort of change in the “depth” of his expression that definitely cannot be faked.
I have been thinking lately that perhaps this is why there is this hunger to hurt our partners. That hurt in his eyes on my behalf, in my experience anyway, really connects with something I can’t put my finger on. In a good way. It hits different, so to speak, from pure admiration and adulation. The latter doesn’t seem to penetrate quite so deeply as a form of “recognition” as witnessing pain does. In my case, I can admit that enjoy seeing this pain on behalf of me, or sympathetic pain in support of me. I would prefer to avoid hurting him personally, however, but in his case he is an excellent partner in many ways I’d like to preserve and augment, and for me, working against his happiness would greatly impair my ability to enjoy my time.
Your eyes are dead because you’re always watching. Predicting, calibrating, prodding, observing. Those are your tools of sensory input, not output.
My — What big eyes you have.
Better to see you with, my dear.
No, they are dead because of the chasm behind them.
Oh, that is interesting! Now it makes sense.
The eyes really are windows into the soul, if you don’t believe me, look into good vs mean people’s eyes when they get older. They are like Dorian’s real painting, cold or warm, depending on the consciousness.
When looking into narc ex-colleague’s eyes I’ve seen evil, they are dark and seemed without an end, I can’t describe the chills on my back. Ok, I know you can see that in your mirror, but at least yours are blue, when they are as dark as night, one feels the augmented sensation by looking into them. She underlined them with some black makeup (as if it wasn’t enough) and she was proud of people seeing she’s evil, fearing her. No sun glasses for her, she has no façade to keep, she’s mean to the core! All people know it, they are all friendly in front of her (out of fear, they know what she’s capable of) and despise her the rest of the time (family members included!). I haven’t seen someone so hated before, she lives only on negative fuel (she’s envious/jealous that way)! Greaters (they do have a façade to maintain, they are brilliant after all!) use her, she’s their “dog” completing the ugly stuff and that’s why she’s allowed some stupid things like getting rid of people she can’t control and are charismatic (dangerous) for her. It took me years to understand why she’s such an important “asset”.
I’ve seen some icy blue eyes that give me the creeps. The Wanna-Be Playuh Narc had brown eyes like a hurt puppy, and boy did he milk them.
Are you capable of feeling love?
No.
Not even for your mother or father?
I lost mine about 20 years ago and I when I remember them ( often) I still feel so much love for them and missed them.
Interesting. I loved the color of his eyes. It’s kind of a fetish with me, eye color, eye gazing, especially during sex, so I loved looking into his eyes.
It’s interesting that I tend to be a lurker, I need time in a given situation/context to be able to find my stride, but normally that’s not an issue sexually, I am usually in control and like it that way, but I was so hesitant with him, he was much harder to please. I suspect he was used to getting women to try harder, and he certainly had his share of partners.
But I love watching someone’s face while I’m… Performing. It was the only time he dropped the facade and I felt like there was any moment of real connection with him, and it was always fleeting. But often repeated. He would catch me watching him, and he’d smile, and it always seem to both amuse and excite him more. But it was one of the rare times he truly looked fondly at me.
I finally asked, you like to watch too. You like the power. He laughed and hugged me, and said yeah, I do.
I’m still pondering the implications of that. I’m a happy and proud empath, but I wonder sometimes… And I wonder if that’s part of why I was so quickly discarded. I know what drove him away, but I’m not sure why things came to such an abrupt halt initially. It was a very weird experience.
I still want to see them..
Dead eyes – yes, the narc who crossed my life path had them. Soulless, dead eyes.
I wish I could post them here to show you. Maybe you could think of a way to include visual/photo material in the comments section of this blog?
Interstingly, he was fascinated by MY eyes. He often told me how big, blue and beautiful he found them, how soulful and even ‘angelic’… it is true that I have been told very often that my eyes and look were my most outstandig feature, leading right into my inner-most soul. A could spend minutes looking into my eyes with his reptilian look, trying to find sth. he lacks of, trying to ‘cannibalise’ my soul through this avenue…
Hello Alice, I am not sure how one goes about posting a picture. Perhaps a link to them would work? You are correct that he would be looking to cannibalise parts of you to attach to himself as he stared into those big blue beauties. Maybe you could show us your eyes too?!
Wow… That’s it. Mine drew me in when we were in love bombing phase he would look into my eyes so intensely during sex it drove me crazy in a good way it went away after time I missed it sooo much. The intensity I loved his eyes at first but yes they had no love in them . ii didn’t know then what he was feeling when he looked in my eyes but I know now.
Thanks for sharing your experience.