Hitherto I have mentioned how through my narcissism, 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. My narcissism would ensure that this would happen. 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, of course my narcissism wants everybody’s undivided attention. 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. My narcissism embracing her fuel. 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. My narcissism was making its presence felt with this question.
“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. My narcissism will not allow that to happen. 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.