*** This article expresses the author’s personal views and opinions only, and is not meant to serve as medical advice. P

I waited a few more moments — until 6:07 to be exact — then I texted him. Through the window, I spied on him as he received my text. I watched as he looked at his phone, reading my message. I observed him look around the coffee shop for me.

Don’t get me wrong — I wasn’t jealous. I, too, was still talking to other men and even going out to meet them. However, I did expect to meet on time. My time was a factor here.

*** This article expresses the author’s personal views and opinions only, and is not meant to serve as medical advice. Please seek the advice of your mental health professional or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding yours or someone else’s condition. Never delay or disregard professional medical help because of something you’ve read here. All you read on this Site is for informational purposes only. Reliance on any of the information is solely at your own risk. ***

As stated in one of my previous articles, narcissists — in most cases — do not believe they have a disorder, therefore to expect any understanding, let alone a transformation, is on a scale from “rare to impossible.” Many people have wasted their entire lives trying to accommodate their narcissistic parents. Because of their unpreparedness/refusal to cooperate, it is a well that can never be filled.

It was 6:30 when the woman finally got up to leave. Through the coffee-shop window, I watched her saunter toward the door, her gait graceful. No, she didn’t notice me. I was standing on the other side of a window — but I saw her.

I checked the time. No, I wasn’t early. I reviewed Justin’s text invitation to this date. Yup, it was six o’clock, just as we agreed. His prior engagement had just gone overtime.

But if this is how you roll, change up your venues a little. Pick a coffee shop to meet one gal in and a cafe down the street to meet another. Otherwise, there’s too much chance for meetings to overlap and for people to run into each other.

Taking action — and therefore responsibility — is not about seeking revenge, but about breaking the cycle of a dysfunctional relationship, and secondly, and most importantly, about limiting the possibility of further damage being done to one’s life.

Was he on another date? Had he booked meetings back-to-back or something? I get why someone would do this. It’s convenient. Who wants to drive through a lot of L.A. traffic to meet a bunch of people when you can stagger different meetings right after another?

Sure, dating is a bit like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it. Still, I felt confused. At the very least, showing up to find my date still on a date made me feel self-conscious. What the hell was I supposed to do?

The woman he was meeting with was small and thin. I was tall and gangly — awkward. At least that’s how I felt. No wonder he wanted to stick with her! My mind began to work on overdrive.

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that our perspectives of our children’s deaths were so different. Losing Ben gave me a greater appreciation for the people in my life and the fragility of our existence, and I was choosing to live and be happy to make my son proud. But for the other mother, the survivor’s guilt was just too strong. She was holding on to the anger as a connection to her only child and, despite my attempt at offering some small semblance of closure, I knew she might never choose to heal.

I texted again that I was outside, then waved frantically so he’d see me through the window. He spotted me and we made eye contact. I assumed this would give him the push he needed to end his date. To my utter shock, he texted back. “Give me a second.”

Home beckoned. Stupidly, I stayed. If you’ve ever inched through L.A. traffic to get somewhere, you might understand. It took me an hour to reach this coffee shop. I wasn’t raring to get back into my car just to drive home. But that meant waiting there like an idiot for Justin to finish up with his meeting with another woman.

I slunk back out of the coffee shop to regain my wits. I felt like it was my fault for showing up on time. I could only hope that Justin would wrap up his other date quickly. He didn’t.