The Crying Game – Part Three
Hitherto I have mentioned how I have learned to mimic the expressions of upset and pain in order to force tears to flow for the purposes of drawing sympathy and getting my own way. I have witnessed the tears that appear as a consequence of pride, admittedly an alien sensation to me and it is whilst I raise this point that I turn to another aspect where tears are seen. Joy.
The earliest time that I remember seeing tears of joy was when I was at university. One of my girlfriends at that time was a young lady called Trish. It was during the early stage of my seduction of Trish that her birthday arrived. I think we had been seeing one another for a couple of months and along came her birthday. I was keen to impress and ensure that the delightful and vivacious Trish remained bonded to me. Back then I did not know that she gave me fuel, I only knew that she was kind and attentive and that I relished being with her because she looked at me with her round blue eyes as if nobody else in the world mattered to her. It was always an edifying experience.
I purchased a beautiful silver necklace, set with a delicate arrangement of small diamonds around a larger sapphire, which reminded me of her eyes, from Tiffany and Co. I knew this would impress her. Elegant, expensive and scintillating. She could not fail to be delighted with this gift. On the evening of her birthday I took her to dinner in one of the university city’s restaurants. Just her and I. I wanted her undivided attention on this special day. Since what I came to now as the golden period remained intact there was no need to upstage her on her birthday or cause her to be upset by forgetting about it as I have done with so many others since. I can still picture her sat across the table from me, by the window, her sky blue dress and her slender shoulders on display, shoulders that I would always kiss tenderly and cause her to tremble in anticipation. Her eyes shone with excitement as she knew a gift awaited her and I felt her excitement as it flowed over me, it was especially edifying. I had arranged for the waiter to bring the gift over once we had finished our meal and I watched him approach from the corner of my eye as I continued to look at Trisha, both of us smiling. The waiter placed the green-blue box with the white ribbon in front of Trish and she pulled at the ribbon, letting it fall as she lifted the lid on the box and then looked at the contents with her mouth falling open. She lifted the necklace from the box as it glinted and it was then that I saw her eyes were welling with tears. Her mouth was still open, caught between a gasp and wanting to say something but her eyes were filled with tears. I watched as she stared at the jewellery, the sapphire spinning and flashing as it caught the various lights, both candle and electric in the restaurant.
“Don’t you like it?” I asked puzzled at her reaction. A tear trickled down her cheek.
“Oh HG, I love it, it is so beautiful. Thank you, thank you so much. It is the best gift that I have ever received.”
“Why are you crying then?” I asked perplexed. Her words seemed genuine to me, laden with appreciation and thanks, but the appearance of tears cast some doubt on this. It was important to me to ensure that she was delighted and thrilled with the gift that I had purchased for her.
“Because I am so pleased with what you have given me, I’m not upset,” she said smiling as she gave a short self-deprecating laugh and brushed the tear away although it was soon replaced by another.
“These are tears of joy, happiness, I am so overwhelmed,” she explained.
I remember the surge that arose as she told me this. I had heard of people crying tears of happiness but I had never seen it. I was naturally pleased that she was so delighted with my gift but what I remember most about that evening was the effect on me. Once it was confirmed that these were indeed tears of joy, the sensation that shot through me was immense. I had made someone cry because they were so happy, so joyous and so delighted. I had only ever previously seen the tears that came from pain, misery, upset and chastisement and this was something new.
“You like it then?” I asked.
“I love it. Oh I love it so much, you are a wonderful boyfriend, thank you,” she gushed, effusive in her delight.
That moment, when I first witnessed tears of joy has always remained with me. Not only because of how it made me feel, how powerful and invigorated I felt that I had made someone cry in circumstances which I had never witnessed before. New ground was broken that evening. It also, however stayed with me because I have never shed tears of joy myself. Indeed, I often got Trisha to recount to me how she actually felt as she opened the box and looked on the gift. She articulated the sensations which washed over her, a sense of amazement, disbelief at first and then a warmth which spread across her.
“It was as if an angel had touched my heart,” she explained, “and I just felt really happy, really delighted at how the person I love the most had chosen something so special for me. It made me feel wanted, special but above all I felt elevated, you know, as if I had been lifted up.”
“Did you feel powerful?” I asked her.
“No, not that, just excited, with a jittery sensation in my stomach but not from nervousness but from being so happy and pleased.”
Ever since then when I achieved my superlative examination results, when I received various job offers, when I have been promoted or a recipient of industry awards or accolades I have never felt the joyous sensation that Trish spoke of. Indeed, I recall when a job offer arrived through the post I read it and did not feel anything as I read the words offering me the position, couched as they were in a straight-forward and business-like manner. The only thing I felt was the sense of anticipation at the reaction of my then girlfriend when I telephoned her to tell the good news. It was her response that I was looking forward to which made me actually feel something. When she squealed down the phone and congratulated me, it was then that I felt the familiar power surge as my achievement was recognised. I was not able to feel that as I read the emotion free letter on my own, I needed the interface with another.
Thus when I have stood on a stage and accepted an award after being voted number one in my industry and the generous applause is ringing in my ears and I shake the hands of the representatives of the award sponsors and smile at their “congratulations”, “well dones” and “thoroughly deserveds” I have felt that familiar surge of power, but nothing akin to what Trish described for me. There is no joy. There are no tears of joy.
I revel in bringing forth those tears of joy for other people during my seduction of them. Indeed, I must always try to achieve this because the power that arises from knowing I have achieved this is considerable. To move someone to tears as a consequence of happiness is power indeed. It still fascinates me. Whilst I of course draw fuel from the tears of upset and frustration and they are potent indeed, they do not hold the same fascination for me as witnessing those tears of joy. I saw tears of sadness and upset many times in the past and understood how to bring that forth, but the experience of seeing those tears of joy was quite the revelation to me and all the more fascinating because I am able to cause something in others that I can never feel for myself. Such is the twisted nature of the power that I wield.
51 thoughts on “The Crying Game – Part Three”
I realise she is jealous of me. She told me my garden was wasted on me. She also told me everyone wants to end there life when I was in desperation and told her I had felt suicidal. She told me I should leave sport to the younger generation when I received an injury. She told me I spoil my children as they are well travelled. So thank you HG for confirmation. I wonder why I never became a narc?
HG I can see this from my narc experience. I was asked a couple of times why I reacted the way I did and also when my birthday was. I thought this odd but intriguing nonetheless. I knew there was something about him: I wanted him, I wanted to help fix him but knew I also needed to be far from him.
As an empath this resonates with me: when I obtained my degree in later life I felt nothing, my family were all proud of me but I realise it was myou mother I was looking for praise from. She did send me a card and small present but I cannot recall her saying well done, clever lady. When she visited she did not want to look at my dissertation. This was like a knife in my heart.
Thank you. I now realise why this occurred and I am learning very fast that I matter, I am clever and I accept praise and gratitude at last. Why? Because I deserve it, and I now realise it.
Does this mother sound like a narc?
Her behaviour certainly sounds indicative of her being a narcissist yes because she is not interested in your achievements when interacting with you but you can bet your life she will be telling all and sundry how HER daughter has a degree, in order to make your mother look good to other people. She won’t praise you though because she is jealous of your achievement and that means giving you attention which she does not believe you merit.
Nailed it for my mother. That will be my next foray into this “project” of narcissism. AFTER working out my ex. You British say that thus I have adopted it. I never say “work out” (unless it’s what other people do at the gym.) Or “thus.” Ha. I hope to one day say “go to hell” and make them look forward to the trip like you do. My American language is so neanderthal. This forum helps. Maybe I can stay a hot mess and just sound delicious being one. Back to my matrinarc*. That is some hard to look at shit. I feel it. And do not want to. Not exploring it will keep me stuck. Thankyou for yet another revelation. *Yes. Your word. One I never wanted to identify with. I often fail in order to spite her or get angry if she is happy (feigned taking credit, jealous will brag to others etc) if I have done or accomplished something “well.” Sort of but not entirely subconscious. I have always been aware of my internal part. I have a vitriol response. Which I do not show… Yet it “kills” me: I am “anxious” to delve deeper into this matrinarc deal. Interesting. Hashtag grotesquely so. I want to work it out in warp speed to get on with it. Too deep.
*had. Here comes my coffee now.
Hi Gabbanzobean. My comment wasn’t aimed at you. I admire people who have depth of feeling so you don’t need to explain yourself. Your narc was an evil manipulative bastard like the rest of them.
I’m not a bastard. My parents were married when I was born.
Oh man I just realised I misinterpreted other people’s posts. I should not comment until I’ve head my second shot of morning coffee.
Some of these comments are very interesting examples of the projection of the empath’s feelings onto the narcissist.
The narcissist does not feel an emotional connection with the empath. He was not being “cute”. Narcissists only care about the fuel that they get from the emotional reaction they receive from the empath – good or bad feelings, they are both powerful.
The narcissist’s interest in “happy tears” comes from his desire to control and manipulate the feelings of the other. He wants to feel “powerful”.
Interestingly, when he asks the empath if she felt “powerful” when she cried, that was HIM projecting HIS reality onto her. If she was clued in, she would have realized that that was a hint that their relationship was in fact power play.
My comment about the crying during sex because I felt so overwhelmed and emotional…I’m now wondering if it’s why not too long after that he told me “we aren’t having sex anymore”….
Of course later on after that he took that back and continued to have me but I guess that explains the temporary break.
He knew he evoked such powerful emotional feelings within me that he probably got more power withholding sex.
Good evening HG, I recall you saying you were proud of your work here. Did you use the word proud as the closest relatable word you could think of to describe your feeling or do you actually feel pride as an emotion?
Does your ‘proud’ actually mean ‘power’?
Curious and confused as ever!
Thanks in advance.
It is pride
I need to figure this out in my own head now because I see pride as a positive emotion?
Curious what a Pound Shop is. I get much out of the reading and am putting so many shattered bits together. Funny distractions help. Is it the US version of thrift store? (cheap, used, other people’s stuff: profits given to charity *allegedly*)
I understand a pound shop is where items are sold, usually for a pound. I have never been inside one.
Ha ha….just read this …. funny. x
I know many women who cry over expensive objects. It’s shallow. Any material ‘gift’ on earth is just something that’s always been here, been fidgeted with and then sold to the masses for a ridiculous price. It reminds me of the ‘fairytale wedding’ scenario, where the dress, the cake and the money spent is more important than the (ridiculous) vows.
The clichès are a necessary part of life for some.
Few years ago I dated an english lawyer….anyhow he told me he liked me because I wasn’t like the other girls he had ( wow….never heard that one before!), so I asked him what was wrong with the other girls and he said ” I asked the last one I had who was the most important male figure in her life, and she said Louis Vuitton…..”
I couldn’t help myself…I burst out laughing….he didn’t like that…oh well 🙂
That IS funny, Giulia.
Anything with a brand name or logo puts me off. Everyone goes MAD over the Pandora jewellery.
I think high maintenance women must be more appealing.
I would cry during and after being intimate with him. Emotional tears. Happy tears. He seemed confused at this and asked me
during it, “am I hurting you?” I explained no I just had so much overwhelming love for him. He seemed like he understood that explanation but now I know he must not have. To him it was just “getting off” I suppose. 🙁
I have never cried before, during or after sex – you must have some deep seated emotions, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that your narc is responsible for stirring them. It could be a false longing for him and you’re projecting your own fears. If you have difficulties loving who you are, you could be wanting someone else to verify this (that you’re good enough etc) – and that will cause frustration and anger.
Don’t take this the wrong way but what you just wrote sounds like what he used to say to me! He always told me I was seeking validation from him, that I needed reassurance. Oh and he loved to say stuff like “I think you were never given enough attention when you were a child which is why you seek it so much from me” etc etc
Now I doubt you are a Narc. So why would I hear that from a Narc and a regular person?
My head hurts. 🙁
Reading HG’s articles, I would say I fit the Super Empath catagory – but I’m open to suggestions. I have no idea as to why the things I wrote have also been said by your narcissist.
We all start out gullible, in relationships… and then we mature and learn what it is that we want. I’m just as perplexed as you.
Skinny Love – Birdy (Random Empath’s song, perhaps?). I marvel at twisted love. The normal kind is so boring.
My comment was not meant as rude but more so puzzlement. I hope I did not offend.
None taken, Gabbanzobean. I found it interesting.
I did frequently ask him “am I making you feel good?” But I always figured it was because I wanted to make him happy. And part of that was being intimate and making him feel good in that regard.
Deep seated emotions perhaps but if you love and someone isn’t part of that wanting to make them feel good?
Couldn’t care less about Pandora and I agree with you on brand names.
The issue is quite complex. I concentrate on being myself. That’s what I care about the most. I couldn’t feel authentic and free any other way. And if I don’t feel alright with myself dating I’d risk making mistakes I will surely regret.
One thing I don’t compromise, perfume. I love to smell really good, always.
That’s nice, Giulia – there’s no better freedom than just being yourself.
I imagine it’s a beautifully exotic scented perfume.
Hmm I’m not so sure she cried because the gift was expensive. I’d guess she cried because the gift was thoughtful and she belived HG had put a lot of thought into what to get her.
I actually feel for people who need ‘names’. I believe there’s a deeper psychological reason than the percieved superficiality of that person. They feel that expensive items validate them and the world validates them by ‘approving’ designer gear. I find it sad.
I have designer things and I have cheap things. I do not buy because of the name I buy because I like something.
I have had very very expensive gifts. If they have been chosen with love then I have on occasion shed tears of joy. Not for the gift alone but foe thw sentiment of their choice. However, my best and most important gift from a partner was a small hand painted flower pot. He was no artist bless him but that one flower pot was more significant than the designer boots he bought me as a Christmas gift that year. On my deathbed if asked to name the gift from an ex that meant the most it would be that flower pot.
The flower pot sounds lovely, Karen. Those gifts are more personal and thoughtful.
I think women upped the gift bar. I also think that romance was ‘invented’ (came about) by the submissive partner/spouse and is exploited by the dominant one. I shouldn’t think they want to spend large amounts of money on their partner/spouse for the fun of it – I should imagine the basic requirements would ideally suffice, for the sake of less ‘nagging’ and more rolling around in the hay.
The ex narc, I didn’t speak of his gifts but he gave me many many expensive gifts. He was well off. But the only one that ever stood out was the one he gave me one time when I’d been working nights. I didn’t get in til 3am and we were setting off for a weekend away early morning so knew I could only have a couple of hours sleep. He woke me with fresh croissants and coffee from my favourite coffee house. He’d gone out and bought them early morning. THAT meant something (at the time haha) and that brought tears to my eyes for his (apparent) thoughtfulness.
HG you could probably learn something and save yourself a few bob here….genuine people are more taken back by the thought and sentiment than the monetary cost. Ditch Tiffanys and get yourself to the pound shop for a few flower pots and some paint 😅😅
Pound shop?! What’s that?
Haha. I’m thinking you could actually be asking this in seriousness?
You’re onto something there Karen. I don’t like the attention of someone buying something for me, I find it embarrassing (probably due to experiences with my narc father). I get my doing and giving side from my loving mother.
Ha ha. Fancy having the gall to mention pound shops in front of HG. I would think he’d have a box made out of glued pound coins to keep his fifty pound petty cash stash in there. Also, the box would make a lovely garish gift for a neighbour who failed to compliment him on his new car.
Ha ha very good.
Sarah..im the same way. Expensive gifts have never been something of importance to me id much rather be treated with respect and love. Jewellery ive never cared for except rings. Give me an antique or unique ruby ring and im happy lol designer brands have no importance to me whatsoever. I must be a rarity lol If i like something i like it. I dont buy based on a label but i know many do.
Trish may have not just been choked up by the gift itself but the supposed sentiment behind it.
Hi N.A., I’ve said EXACTLY the same. I’ve also said HG should listen to us and save himself money. Ditch Tiffany and start buying meaningful things. Far cheaper.
‘Every little helps’ HG!
(The motto of our biggest supermarket chain for those on the other side of the pond)
Agree. Well said 🙂
This post is a gift. Thank you for being vulnerable in sharing this. It really is beautiful and gives us a glimpse of something a narcissist was never allowed to experience. This life isn’t fair. Thanks, HG.
This just tripped a memory for me of something mine used to say to me.
” Gabrielle, I am amazed that I have that effect on you, that I can make you feel so strongly.”
I just thought he was paying me some kind of complement. He really had no clue.
And then in the next breath he was saying “Gabrielle, I don’t deserve you.”
Again, the truth he probably could not understand.
Damn, mind blown. Great article HG.
You were cute when you kept asking your gf how she is feeling and why she is crying!
OMG! Really, are you for real?
Yes i’m being serious. HG had no idea what tears of joy were at the time, so he had to repeatedly ask, almost like a child who is still learning. They are emotionally stunted. Sometimes i find narcs naive in that they just don’t understand certain emotions. Keep in mind, my ex narc is passive aggressive, not violent, never uses foul language, never name called me, never shamed me. So i may be coming from a different place than you. I don’t have hate for narcs. He mostly just went silent for 3 days or future faked. That was the extent of his abuse.
Your heart is bereft of love and you will never feel an angel’s touch, a lover’s tender smile or a child’s joie de vivre. The considerable power that you wield is a Pyrrhic victory and your ability to be joyless while effecting tears of joy is truly a contradiction that is both twisted and fascinating.
I wish you could feel that. It’s one of the best feelings.
This is beautiful, HG. I believe you bring more happiness than you realize. We all have a dark side, no? I could only hope to have ever met someone, even if in the moment, like you….
I Mean, your own Father said he was proud of you… he was happy… can you you understand what I am saying .. if u feel proud, that is in essence happiness…