When a Borderline Loves a Narcissist: A Tale of Two Personalities

Shirley Xiaolin Xu
Jul 30, 2017 · 3 min read

It’s quite inexplicable how a photograph, a name, an algorithm, a swipe became a fantasy, a dream-come-true, a nightmare.

Is love a grand spiritual connection? A chemical reaction? Intellectual stimulation? Contractural or moral obligation?

Is love sitting on his dick at 2AM, hands palm-to-palm, fingers interlaced, the expression in his crystal blue eyes blurred by the emotion cascading down her cheeks because, “Baby, is this real love, or are we just two fucked up people abusing each other?”


She sat on the curb outside his window, pouring her soul into an electronic brick. A humid summer night breeze stroked her hair and cooled her inflamed cheeks.

“I’m outside your house.” She begged.

She caught a glimpse of his rough fingers squeezing a water bottle. She heard the gate open. He cleared his throat.

They held hands in the wreckage.

“I still have feelings for you.”

“We are not compatible.”

They were soulmates. His eyes a frozen winter lake reflecting her bitter dark coffee, mirroring two indecisive, brilliant, turbulent minds.

He used to say she was his sun.
He meditated and felt her spirit.

She told him he was the only man in the world.
Her soul: his forever.

He swept up the shards of broken glass and pieces of photographs she swore she’d keep forever.
She covers the scar on her face every day, before his favorite mascara.

Standing there, hands palm-to-palm, fingers interlaced, she felt an uncanny calm — an eye of the storm, perhaps, or the lingering shock of a departed disaster.

It’s too easy to believe that it was all a lie. This intense “feeling” that kept them senselessly bound in a mutually destructive dance was only sex, circumstance, self-indulgeance.

It’s too easy to hate.

Even in the end, an optimist chooses love.


I have finally come to terms with my latest breakup. I sincerely believed he was the love of my life.

I realize that I have been falling in love with men I am totally incompatible with. I view red flags as challenges to overcome, not stop signs. I give my everything and am willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of love. I end up hurt and wondering why unconditional devotion wasn’t enough, and whether love is a lie.

I have been lying to myself.

My primary goal in life is not wealth or glory, but to love a man and raise a family. I want to create a legacy with someone I can trust absolutely, and share a lifetime of adventure, laughter, and growth.

But I had warped trust and interdependence into idealization and co-dependency. I relinquished my identity and future to my partner, willing to make any compromise to make him happy. I used the illusion of, “this is the one true love of my life, and love is always worth fighting for” to rationalize clinging onto a dead-end relationship until the fire raged into ashes.

Love had become not the mutual nurture and respect of individual identities, but a trap in which impressionable souls desperate for purpose and a sense of belonging neglect self-preservation in pursuit of… feeling. Happiness.

I realize that no one can make me happy except myself.
I used to think that was a lonely idea: the defiant defense of a wounded heart.

Now I see that it is clarity. Maturity. Independence.

Emotionally, I am exhausted.
Mentally, I am stronger.

I feel empowered to be a better person and attract real love, not romantic fantasy.

What’s a fighter without a few scars?


I’m not sure if this disclaimer is even necessary, but I’ll put it in anyway:

MENTAL HEALTH IS A SPECTRUM.

My ex and I do not have Borderline Personality Disorder or Narcissist Personality Disorder. But under the pressure of an intense emotional relationship (10 months, 3 countries, together almost 24/7!), the worst of our subconscious defense mechanisms surfaced.

So don’t be ashamed of yourself when you lose your mind temporarily, and don’t shun or ostracize others. We all learn from our experiences, and the majority of us grow to become better people.

Summer to Summer

Musings of a young vagabond, living & thinking outside the box.

Shirley Xiaolin Xu

Written by

25, global citizen. Trying to live & think outside the box. Sharing my experiences and life lessons. ❤

Summer to Summer

Musings of a young vagabond, living & thinking outside the box.

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