Heartbreak + Disillusionment: Emotional chaos—You happen to be a loser. You are defeated, you do not allow yourself to see life through other eyes. I have no idea what happened in your life, but what marked you should not defeat you. Not everything is lost...He denies, one of those sneaky smiles, in disagreement.—You said them. You have no idea about anything, I would appreciate it if you would stop with your stupid talk.—I say nothing absurd, Silvain. You're afraid of failing, of not being enough, that's what you're afraid of, of screwing up, which you do left and right. Get it into your head that you are just another mortal, full of imperfections like everyone else; You make an effort to pretend something, and your mistakes become more noticeable. Furthermore, you are distrustful, you do not allow anyone to know about your life. How much I dig into your life, that doesn't matter, I don't get anything, only tremendous unknowns. The truth is, I don't know how you've kept Gaspard i
—If it's not necessary, no thanks, I prefer to stay here. —I decline, surprised by the invitation. Although I should have asked where I was going, just to satisfy my curiosity.—Stay, as you wish. —He pretends that the rejection doesn't affect him in the least.I go to the other side of the suite, giving him privacy. I don't want him to think that I'm a freeloader, my attention already feeds his ego and, if I notice his athletic body, my head gets messy. For the sake of my idiotic emotional stability, I walk away.He dresses casually and that image hits me hard. Both hemispheres freeze, it is so perfect that it seems dreamlike, something so unreal that it can only be seen in dreams. The fact that he is made of flesh and blood takes the wind out of me, in and of itself he manages my emotions at will without knowing it, I am already delirious in silence. Suddenly I close my mouth, magnificence already emerges on his lips. Here where I put myself again would be to the point of bordering
Your HeartbeatsDays after...Gaspard is here, devouring a cookie, from the second batch that Mila has prepared. I admire that they are still close, as friends, after the adventure they had. I watch them and notice the twinkle in my friend's eyes, I dare say that around Lebrun she looks more lively, they fit together; Gerrit is a good person, but I must confess that he is almost always in the clouds, these last few days they have not gone out often, although Jones has been fully immersed in some things about practicing her profession.—Won't you eat one? —It seems strange to him that he hasn't swallowed yet.—It's just that I'm full."You're losing it," the Frenchman moans, putting the entire cookie into his mouth.And, he plays around, touching the tip of my nose. I smile while shaking my head; Lebrun has been with Mila there for me, when I find myself on the run from life and a horde of dark ideas crack my vision and my heart sinks, then reminding me that it is worth living, they cl
Draper tells me to lie down on the stretcher, coming with Gaspard makes me nervous. The doctor knows that he is not the father of my baby, since he introduced himself and the other time I mentioned Silvain's name. It has become clear to him that he is nothing more than a friend."Okay, you can sit here, Gaspard." —he says, bringing him a chair near the stretcher.He thanks me and gives me a reassuring smile. By then he takes my hand and gently shakes it in his. The gesture has a positive impact, lightening the nervous torrent that eagerly moves under the layers of my skin."Thank you..." I whisper.—Let's start, lift your blouse.I do what he asks, exposing my abdomen, in his view he places that cold gel on the area and runs a device over it. At the same time we stare at the screen. I don't have eyes for anything else. It is exciting on an incomprehensible level, making the moment ideal and special. I'm grateful to be living it with someone else, although Silvain should be occupying t
I won't do it.In a flash I find myself reading the lines, its handwriting, that letter inclined to the right catches me in reading.I grew up believing for a long time that the people I loved gave me a little bit of the same way, love. It is ridiculous, stupidly pathetic to eat the story, the fantasy of being loved, especially when you receive that affection, and you don't know that it is only based on hypocrisy.They said that if I had a little gratitude for them I would do my part to be better, of course they substituted the word "perfection", but I was always clear, I wanted it to be perfect, especially when Nickolas had died, leaving me that heavy burden, to be like him, who always had accomplished goals in the palm of his hand. I, on the other hand, was so withdrawn so many times, absent from class and skipping over issues that I couldn't achieve, far from my goals, but an obligation to be someone in this world.For a moment I tried, I gave up, then the pressure took its place a
From the Eyes of a NarcissistPOV Silvain De CastelbajacThree years later...Monday, May 8th.A pile of papers on the desk, the phone ringing constantly, the secretary coming in to notify me of Fabrizio's unforeseen visit, and I have a meeting in half an hour. Saturated, stressed, I am on the verge of a breakdown. I stand up, straightening my back, and head to the minibar. One glass of whiskey or however many doesn't ease the pressure I feel right now.Curse!They knock on the door. Exasperated I swallow the foul language, the agitation of this day does not stop.—What's wrong, Micaela? —loose, busy.—Sir, can I come in? I have news about the gallery. —he says, from the other side.My expression changes, "the gallery is relevant."—Yes, come in.Pretty face, attractive body and sweet eyes. Today she is wearing a tight dress that marks her silhouette; She is the only secretary I am not involved with yet, nor have any interest in doing so. She almost always has her reddish hair braided
One of the best therapists has been treating me for the last three years, she greets me with a smile. The office is spacious, completely white, with some plants in the open window, another is located on his desk, it is a small cactus; She expresses that she is an inveterate lover of nature. I am not one of those who are happy to die in that environment, but I have managed to get used to it in a way that gives me peace.Therapy can be short-term to help manage during times of stress or crisis, or it can be provided on an ongoing basis to help achieve and maintain goals. Since then I opted to maintain office visits once a week.Narcissistic people like me find it difficult to admit that we have a problem. And denial only accentuates everything, when I returned to psychotherapy, it was difficult for me to express myself, to admit that I am not well and I must improve.However, it is a job that sometimes becomes arduous, with the presence of occasional setbacks. Still, I make an effort to
A few days ago I bought her these jeans with suspenders, which together with the white shirt and black shoes look beautiful.—Look how handsome you are, honey. All that's left is... —I reach for the brush, combing her hair to the side—. "I think I fell in love, you are a handsome gentleman, Mr. Samuele," I joke, imitating the voice of a screeching female, and I kiss his hand.He starts laughing, infecting me instantly. Afterwards I fill him with many kisses, I am grateful that my lipstick is matte, otherwise I would ruin his little white shirt.“Time to go,” my friend croons, leaning out.-Aunt! - my little one exclaims, that's how anxious he gets when he sees her."Yes, my darling, here's your favorite aunt, come on." She opens her arms, he jumps on top of her and catches him. You smell so good, darling.—You too. —he says hugging her.I melt with tenderness.Soon we got into Gaspard's sports car, if I knew where we were going I would have left with my son in my car.During the journ