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She turned to him and said “I don’t want to do this anymore”.
He thought for a moment, shrugged and walked out the door. And as he left, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
He walked with a spring in his step for the 1st time in months, he practically floated down the road.
He knew she was watching from the doorway, seeing if he’d turn around or break down in the street and that made him laugh. He was glad she couldn’t see his face, let her have this moment of thinking she had pulled his world down.
As he rounded the corner, he was almost in tears of laughter.
He’d been considering ending this anyway, let’s face it. But her actions had allowed him to leave without feeling guilty for bringing it up.
It started as they all do.
Excitement, laughter, the finding out of things about a person that made it feel fresh and new. And finally seeing her in front of him naked, seeing if his imagination measured up to the reality.
All that good stuff.
But, as with every other time in the history of this race, it settled down into familiarity and comfort.
He knew her routines and words, how she would react to any given situation and to be honest, he was fed up with it.
So when she said she wanted to end it, he thought for a moment and walked.
And within 3 weeks of the end of “the most perfect thing in his life”, he was out with new women.
And they were just as important as the one that tried to finish him.
The only problem was, he had never really been that bothered about where he ended up in life, so anything that happened didn’t upset him too much.
Oh sure, he felt sad and quiet for a bit, but that was good for the soul. Those pangs of sadness really turned on the creative juices and he got endless mileage out of it, put it to good use and wrote that sweet stuff down in case he needed inspiration later.
He had a list of the best lies he’d ever heard and told:
It’s not you, it’s me
I just need space
Of course there’s nobody else
I’ll always think of you
You meant so much to me
This is complicated
You don’t understand
We’ll still be friends
No I’ve never felt like this before
If I could turn back the clock, I would
I didn’t mean to say those things
I understand
I’m not ready for anyone right now
Loveyoumissyoumeanitbye!
Let me explain, dear reader, what the honest truth was.
It doesn’t matter how nice you are, how well you can write or how easily it comes to express those things we all feel but mostly feel unable to express.
If you put anyone else but you first? You’ll end up sobbing like a baby and spewing out 2nd rate poetry to try and communicate how heavy and important it all meant to you and how you couldn’t possibly continue without that person.
When the truth is something quite different – you will cope, you will survive and you will move on.
So what do you do? What did he do?
He got that emotional deadweight out of his life raft, just tossed that stuff overboard and waited for something to rescue him.
And he was rescued.
Oh, but don’t think it was a fair maiden intent on seeing “the good inside” of him or any of that Hallmark crap.
No, he was saved by the knowledge that if you want to have fun, if you want to enjoy yourself? You have to stop lying to yourself about what you want from “life” and get out there and take it.
He wanted women.
Not just one, and not a soulmate that “understood where you come from”.
No, he wanted to sample it all, to live like a king and use that for good.
So, 3 weeks after walking away from 3 years of submission, humiliation and self-debasement, he strapped on his game face and went for it.
And he realised how stupid he had been to think about it like it meant anything.
It was easy to land them, there’s nothing to it.
They all want to hear the same thing, but don’t be too nice about it all or you’ll be seen as “a good friend”.
Nope, you have to pretend like you’re doing them a favour. Make them work for it, trust me on this, it’s better than chasing after them like a dog left at a campsite.
You don’t believe me? You want to write this off as bitter, angry revenge talk?
If that makes you comfortable then by all means put it down to that.
He had spent the weekend playing the game and he had won. No telephone number given afterwards, no promises of anything further.
He went out on Friday, drank the drink, voiced the script and left there Saturday afternoon.
Did the same on Sunday too with another one.
You’re still thinking this is just hurt and wounded inner-feelings of sorrow?
Ok, here’s how to do it:
Just say the right things, smile here, insert a joke there and by the end of the night with enough practice? You’re not spending the evening alone.
It’s like playing a video-game it’s that easy.
Really, it is.
Push the buttons and Open Sesame!
Confuse them with sex or the lack of it. Keep them guessing or once they think they have you figured out?
They’ll be onto the next.
Hey brother, don’t get angry at me for telling you the cold hard truth here.
I didn’t make the rules, I just play them better.
Try it, next time you fancy feeling like a god?
Studied indifference and nonchalance will beat emotive, timid little mortals every single time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to write an email to another one telling them how much I enjoyed the weekend and how much fun they are/funny they are/interesting to talk to/good to be around/special I felt with them. (delete as applicable).
Sorry, what was that?
You thought this was going to be another one of those woeful and cringing missives about how lonely he is without her and how much he misses her?
Nope, this is nothing but the honest, brutal truth about men and women.
Oh now wait, obviously not *you* and your partner – she’s perfect.
I meant the other guy.
He thought for a moment, shrugged and walked out the door. And as he left, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
He walked with a spring in his step for the 1st time in months, he practically floated down the road.
He knew she was watching from the doorway, seeing if he’d turn around or break down in the street and that made him laugh. He was glad she couldn’t see his face, let her have this moment of thinking she had pulled his world down.
As he rounded the corner, he was almost in tears of laughter.
He’d been considering ending this anyway, let’s face it. But her actions had allowed him to leave without feeling guilty for bringing it up.
It started as they all do.
Excitement, laughter, the finding out of things about a person that made it feel fresh and new. And finally seeing her in front of him naked, seeing if his imagination measured up to the reality.
All that good stuff.
But, as with every other time in the history of this race, it settled down into familiarity and comfort.
He knew her routines and words, how she would react to any given situation and to be honest, he was fed up with it.
So when she said she wanted to end it, he thought for a moment and walked.
And within 3 weeks of the end of “the most perfect thing in his life”, he was out with new women.
And they were just as important as the one that tried to finish him.
The only problem was, he had never really been that bothered about where he ended up in life, so anything that happened didn’t upset him too much.
Oh sure, he felt sad and quiet for a bit, but that was good for the soul. Those pangs of sadness really turned on the creative juices and he got endless mileage out of it, put it to good use and wrote that sweet stuff down in case he needed inspiration later.
He had a list of the best lies he’d ever heard and told:
It’s not you, it’s me
I just need space
Of course there’s nobody else
I’ll always think of you
You meant so much to me
This is complicated
You don’t understand
We’ll still be friends
No I’ve never felt like this before
If I could turn back the clock, I would
I didn’t mean to say those things
I understand
I’m not ready for anyone right now
Loveyoumissyoumeanitbye!
Let me explain, dear reader, what the honest truth was.
It doesn’t matter how nice you are, how well you can write or how easily it comes to express those things we all feel but mostly feel unable to express.
If you put anyone else but you first? You’ll end up sobbing like a baby and spewing out 2nd rate poetry to try and communicate how heavy and important it all meant to you and how you couldn’t possibly continue without that person.
When the truth is something quite different – you will cope, you will survive and you will move on.
So what do you do? What did he do?
He got that emotional deadweight out of his life raft, just tossed that stuff overboard and waited for something to rescue him.
And he was rescued.
Oh, but don’t think it was a fair maiden intent on seeing “the good inside” of him or any of that Hallmark crap.
No, he was saved by the knowledge that if you want to have fun, if you want to enjoy yourself? You have to stop lying to yourself about what you want from “life” and get out there and take it.
He wanted women.
Not just one, and not a soulmate that “understood where you come from”.
No, he wanted to sample it all, to live like a king and use that for good.
So, 3 weeks after walking away from 3 years of submission, humiliation and self-debasement, he strapped on his game face and went for it.
And he realised how stupid he had been to think about it like it meant anything.
It was easy to land them, there’s nothing to it.
They all want to hear the same thing, but don’t be too nice about it all or you’ll be seen as “a good friend”.
Nope, you have to pretend like you’re doing them a favour. Make them work for it, trust me on this, it’s better than chasing after them like a dog left at a campsite.
You don’t believe me? You want to write this off as bitter, angry revenge talk?
If that makes you comfortable then by all means put it down to that.
He had spent the weekend playing the game and he had won. No telephone number given afterwards, no promises of anything further.
He went out on Friday, drank the drink, voiced the script and left there Saturday afternoon.
Did the same on Sunday too with another one.
You’re still thinking this is just hurt and wounded inner-feelings of sorrow?
Ok, here’s how to do it:
Just say the right things, smile here, insert a joke there and by the end of the night with enough practice? You’re not spending the evening alone.
It’s like playing a video-game it’s that easy.
Really, it is.
Push the buttons and Open Sesame!
Confuse them with sex or the lack of it. Keep them guessing or once they think they have you figured out?
They’ll be onto the next.
Hey brother, don’t get angry at me for telling you the cold hard truth here.
I didn’t make the rules, I just play them better.
Try it, next time you fancy feeling like a god?
Studied indifference and nonchalance will beat emotive, timid little mortals every single time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to write an email to another one telling them how much I enjoyed the weekend and how much fun they are/funny they are/interesting to talk to/good to be around/special I felt with them. (delete as applicable).
Sorry, what was that?
You thought this was going to be another one of those woeful and cringing missives about how lonely he is without her and how much he misses her?
Nope, this is nothing but the honest, brutal truth about men and women.
Oh now wait, obviously not *you* and your partner – she’s perfect.
I meant the other guy.
Page:
You're happier with your defenses down, so you keep them up.
You sound like a twelve year old.
Real strength in life is showing weakness. I don't have automatic defenses, if I want to say something, I'll say it, simple as that. There's no-one I hate, I don't think I -can- hate. I've got to the point now where I'm just utterly me, I'm just utterly at peace, and people are who they are. We all have our problems, confusions in our mind that we're unable to cope with, it seems. In the end, we're all children. I expect many people die as children too.
You know of all the things you'd say to people, all the things you'd really want to say to people if you knew you were going to die? What if you said them anyway? What if you didn't care, what if you just knew 'hey, why am I worried? What possible matter does it make to the fact that I get to say what I want to?'... what if you realise that the only reason we hold back is because we're pathetic and weak? And what if we realise how good, how utterly good it feels not to hold back?
If there is something in my mind, I say it. If I look at someone, and I think they're pretty, I'll call them pretty. If I think they're ugly, I'll call them ugly. That's all there is to it. My judgement is mine. My mind is me. That's who I am. There's no need to fight about it, there's no need to argue about it, because that's just what I'm thinking. Sure. Maybe I'm wrong sometimes. Nobody's perfect. But that's just me.
I would have sex with men if I was attracted to them. But I'm not. Maybe it's because I haven't met the right man yet, but the point is there's no fear. There's no paranoia of what people might think of me... for just being me.
I used to be scared of sharing drinks. I would, under no circumstances, share the same cup with someone. Now, I don't give a crap. What's the point? I wonder to myself... why are we so controlled by fear? Fear of what people would say, the reactions we'd get by just saying what's on our mind? They are very much in the wrong if they find your opinion like an attack at them, not you.
And then, just imagine how fantastic it would be, if someone loved you for just being you? For jacking off and p*ssing around, for not being afraid to say what's on your mind, for not being afraid to admit you're hurt, to not being afraid to admit that you're scared. And what, if by some strange coincidence, you loved that person too? You found everything about them just fantastic, they made you laugh and smile?
A whole lot of 'what ifs?', wouldn't you say.
We're ruled by a pathetic fear that is hiding us from the fact that one day you are going to be dead. It's taken me two suicide attempts to realise this, but pat me on the back and I'll ignore you. The most important person in my life, is me. The second most, is someone else. There's a lot I want to experience and get from life. These forums are very much to thank for that.
Ever felt like skipping in a street in front of a hundred strangers? Go ahead. Sing out loud in a shop? Sure.
And then, I say smiling, there are the people that will hate you for being alive.
Well to be honest, f**k them. They'll learn one day, or they'll die as children. I feel for them, but it's not my problem.
My name is Darren Williams. I am seventeen years old. If you are older than me, and learnt from this passage, you should be absolutely f**king ashamed of yourself.
You sound like a twelve year old.
Real strength in life is showing weakness. I don't have automatic defenses, if I want to say something, I'll say it, simple as that. There's no-one I hate, I don't think I -can- hate. I've got to the point now where I'm just utterly me, I'm just utterly at peace, and people are who they are. We all have our problems, confusions in our mind that we're unable to cope with, it seems. In the end, we're all children. I expect many people die as children too.
You know of all the things you'd say to people, all the things you'd really want to say to people if you knew you were going to die? What if you said them anyway? What if you didn't care, what if you just knew 'hey, why am I worried? What possible matter does it make to the fact that I get to say what I want to?'... what if you realise that the only reason we hold back is because we're pathetic and weak? And what if we realise how good, how utterly good it feels not to hold back?
If there is something in my mind, I say it. If I look at someone, and I think they're pretty, I'll call them pretty. If I think they're ugly, I'll call them ugly. That's all there is to it. My judgement is mine. My mind is me. That's who I am. There's no need to fight about it, there's no need to argue about it, because that's just what I'm thinking. Sure. Maybe I'm wrong sometimes. Nobody's perfect. But that's just me.
I would have sex with men if I was attracted to them. But I'm not. Maybe it's because I haven't met the right man yet, but the point is there's no fear. There's no paranoia of what people might think of me... for just being me.
I used to be scared of sharing drinks. I would, under no circumstances, share the same cup with someone. Now, I don't give a crap. What's the point? I wonder to myself... why are we so controlled by fear? Fear of what people would say, the reactions we'd get by just saying what's on our mind? They are very much in the wrong if they find your opinion like an attack at them, not you.
And then, just imagine how fantastic it would be, if someone loved you for just being you? For jacking off and p*ssing around, for not being afraid to say what's on your mind, for not being afraid to admit you're hurt, to not being afraid to admit that you're scared. And what, if by some strange coincidence, you loved that person too? You found everything about them just fantastic, they made you laugh and smile?
A whole lot of 'what ifs?', wouldn't you say.
We're ruled by a pathetic fear that is hiding us from the fact that one day you are going to be dead. It's taken me two suicide attempts to realise this, but pat me on the back and I'll ignore you. The most important person in my life, is me. The second most, is someone else. There's a lot I want to experience and get from life. These forums are very much to thank for that.
Ever felt like skipping in a street in front of a hundred strangers? Go ahead. Sing out loud in a shop? Sure.
And then, I say smiling, there are the people that will hate you for being alive.
Well to be honest, f**k them. They'll learn one day, or they'll die as children. I feel for them, but it's not my problem.
My name is Darren Williams. I am seventeen years old. If you are older than me, and learnt from this passage, you should be absolutely f**king ashamed of yourself.
Happiness is different for everyone. To me, being happy is to let down your defences, which is something I've done once too often.
My defences are up permanently.
My defences are up permanently.
Mr. Happy wrote:
> I guess I'm just happy, and selfish as it is, that's the
> only thing that's worth anything in life.
I agree.
> I guess I'm just happy, and selfish as it is, that's the
> only thing that's worth anything in life.
I agree.
Maybe it's the steady diet of Bukowski, but I'm coming round to a similar opinion, even though I didn't think I would.. Maybe part of me enjoys the idea of monogamy, or the security of it at least, but another part of me says that it's only because I'm insecure at times. Afraid to lose rather than eager to commit.
It's different at the moment though.. I feel oddly content. It's not just that I smile more than I used to, but certain smells, sounds or hearing her on the phone make me miss her, and her little idiosyncracies stick in my mind and make me smile at random moments (worryingly, one such moment resulted in me being propositioned by a black guy, who wanted to know if I was selling sex..)
Having said that we both accept that once she's gone back to America then there's little point in trying to hold on to something that will inevitably fail. So when she goes I'll be unattached again, ready for uni.. Even if I'm a little confused, she isn't, apparently Madame Bovary claims that men are incapable of loving someone always. Instead it's like getting into a habit of saying certain things and being a certain person.
Maybe these words have little meaning, but then they're allowed to because I have a lifetime of things to come, so who am I to know anything at all yet? But for once I'm content with the way things are, and more importantly with the way things are going to be after she's gone again. I guess I'm just happy, and selfish as it is, that's the only thing that's worth anything in life.
It's different at the moment though.. I feel oddly content. It's not just that I smile more than I used to, but certain smells, sounds or hearing her on the phone make me miss her, and her little idiosyncracies stick in my mind and make me smile at random moments (worryingly, one such moment resulted in me being propositioned by a black guy, who wanted to know if I was selling sex..)
Having said that we both accept that once she's gone back to America then there's little point in trying to hold on to something that will inevitably fail. So when she goes I'll be unattached again, ready for uni.. Even if I'm a little confused, she isn't, apparently Madame Bovary claims that men are incapable of loving someone always. Instead it's like getting into a habit of saying certain things and being a certain person.
Maybe these words have little meaning, but then they're allowed to because I have a lifetime of things to come, so who am I to know anything at all yet? But for once I'm content with the way things are, and more importantly with the way things are going to be after she's gone again. I guess I'm just happy, and selfish as it is, that's the only thing that's worth anything in life.
She turned to him and said “I don’t want to do this anymore”.
He thought for a moment, shrugged and walked out the door. And as he left, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
He walked with a spring in his step for the 1st time in months, he practically floated down the road.
He knew she was watching from the doorway, seeing if he’d turn around or break down in the street and that made him laugh. He was glad she couldn’t see his face, let her have this moment of thinking she had pulled his world down.
As he rounded the corner, he was almost in tears of laughter.
He’d been considering ending this anyway, let’s face it. But her actions had allowed him to leave without feeling guilty for bringing it up.
It started as they all do.
Excitement, laughter, the finding out of things about a person that made it feel fresh and new. And finally seeing her in front of him naked, seeing if his imagination measured up to the reality.
All that good stuff.
But, as with every other time in the history of this race, it settled down into familiarity and comfort.
He knew her routines and words, how she would react to any given situation and to be honest, he was fed up with it.
So when she said she wanted to end it, he thought for a moment and walked.
And within 3 weeks of the end of “the most perfect thing in his life”, he was out with new women.
And they were just as important as the one that tried to finish him.
The only problem was, he had never really been that bothered about where he ended up in life, so anything that happened didn’t upset him too much.
Oh sure, he felt sad and quiet for a bit, but that was good for the soul. Those pangs of sadness really turned on the creative juices and he got endless mileage out of it, put it to good use and wrote that sweet stuff down in case he needed inspiration later.
He had a list of the best lies he’d ever heard and told:
It’s not you, it’s me
I just need space
Of course there’s nobody else
I’ll always think of you
You meant so much to me
This is complicated
You don’t understand
We’ll still be friends
No I’ve never felt like this before
If I could turn back the clock, I would
I didn’t mean to say those things
I understand
I’m not ready for anyone right now
Loveyoumissyoumeanitbye!
Let me explain, dear reader, what the honest truth was.
It doesn’t matter how nice you are, how well you can write or how easily it comes to express those things we all feel but mostly feel unable to express.
If you put anyone else but you first? You’ll end up sobbing like a baby and spewing out 2nd rate poetry to try and communicate how heavy and important it all meant to you and how you couldn’t possibly continue without that person.
When the truth is something quite different – you will cope, you will survive and you will move on.
So what do you do? What did he do?
He got that emotional deadweight out of his life raft, just tossed that stuff overboard and waited for something to rescue him.
And he was rescued.
Oh, but don’t think it was a fair maiden intent on seeing “the good inside” of him or any of that Hallmark crap.
No, he was saved by the knowledge that if you want to have fun, if you want to enjoy yourself? You have to stop lying to yourself about what you want from “life” and get out there and take it.
He wanted women.
Not just one, and not a soulmate that “understood where you come from”.
No, he wanted to sample it all, to live like a king and use that for good.
So, 3 weeks after walking away from 3 years of submission, humiliation and self-debasement, he strapped on his game face and went for it.
And he realised how stupid he had been to think about it like it meant anything.
It was easy to land them, there’s nothing to it.
They all want to hear the same thing, but don’t be too nice about it all or you’ll be seen as “a good friend”.
Nope, you have to pretend like you’re doing them a favour. Make them work for it, trust me on this, it’s better than chasing after them like a dog left at a campsite.
You don’t believe me? You want to write this off as bitter, angry revenge talk?
If that makes you comfortable then by all means put it down to that.
He had spent the weekend playing the game and he had won. No telephone number given afterwards, no promises of anything further.
He went out on Friday, drank the drink, voiced the script and left there Saturday afternoon.
Did the same on Sunday too with another one.
You’re still thinking this is just hurt and wounded inner-feelings of sorrow?
Ok, here’s how to do it:
Just say the right things, smile here, insert a joke there and by the end of the night with enough practice? You’re not spending the evening alone.
It’s like playing a video-game it’s that easy.
Really, it is.
Push the buttons and Open Sesame!
Confuse them with sex or the lack of it. Keep them guessing or once they think they have you figured out?
They’ll be onto the next.
Hey brother, don’t get angry at me for telling you the cold hard truth here.
I didn’t make the rules, I just play them better.
Try it, next time you fancy feeling like a god?
Studied indifference and nonchalance will beat emotive, timid little mortals every single time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to write an email to another one telling them how much I enjoyed the weekend and how much fun they are/funny they are/interesting to talk to/good to be around/special I felt with them. (delete as applicable).
Sorry, what was that?
You thought this was going to be another one of those woeful and cringing missives about how lonely he is without her and how much he misses her?
Nope, this is nothing but the honest, brutal truth about men and women.
Oh now wait, obviously not *you* and your partner – she’s perfect.
I meant the other guy.
He thought for a moment, shrugged and walked out the door. And as he left, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
He walked with a spring in his step for the 1st time in months, he practically floated down the road.
He knew she was watching from the doorway, seeing if he’d turn around or break down in the street and that made him laugh. He was glad she couldn’t see his face, let her have this moment of thinking she had pulled his world down.
As he rounded the corner, he was almost in tears of laughter.
He’d been considering ending this anyway, let’s face it. But her actions had allowed him to leave without feeling guilty for bringing it up.
It started as they all do.
Excitement, laughter, the finding out of things about a person that made it feel fresh and new. And finally seeing her in front of him naked, seeing if his imagination measured up to the reality.
All that good stuff.
But, as with every other time in the history of this race, it settled down into familiarity and comfort.
He knew her routines and words, how she would react to any given situation and to be honest, he was fed up with it.
So when she said she wanted to end it, he thought for a moment and walked.
And within 3 weeks of the end of “the most perfect thing in his life”, he was out with new women.
And they were just as important as the one that tried to finish him.
The only problem was, he had never really been that bothered about where he ended up in life, so anything that happened didn’t upset him too much.
Oh sure, he felt sad and quiet for a bit, but that was good for the soul. Those pangs of sadness really turned on the creative juices and he got endless mileage out of it, put it to good use and wrote that sweet stuff down in case he needed inspiration later.
He had a list of the best lies he’d ever heard and told:
It’s not you, it’s me
I just need space
Of course there’s nobody else
I’ll always think of you
You meant so much to me
This is complicated
You don’t understand
We’ll still be friends
No I’ve never felt like this before
If I could turn back the clock, I would
I didn’t mean to say those things
I understand
I’m not ready for anyone right now
Loveyoumissyoumeanitbye!
Let me explain, dear reader, what the honest truth was.
It doesn’t matter how nice you are, how well you can write or how easily it comes to express those things we all feel but mostly feel unable to express.
If you put anyone else but you first? You’ll end up sobbing like a baby and spewing out 2nd rate poetry to try and communicate how heavy and important it all meant to you and how you couldn’t possibly continue without that person.
When the truth is something quite different – you will cope, you will survive and you will move on.
So what do you do? What did he do?
He got that emotional deadweight out of his life raft, just tossed that stuff overboard and waited for something to rescue him.
And he was rescued.
Oh, but don’t think it was a fair maiden intent on seeing “the good inside” of him or any of that Hallmark crap.
No, he was saved by the knowledge that if you want to have fun, if you want to enjoy yourself? You have to stop lying to yourself about what you want from “life” and get out there and take it.
He wanted women.
Not just one, and not a soulmate that “understood where you come from”.
No, he wanted to sample it all, to live like a king and use that for good.
So, 3 weeks after walking away from 3 years of submission, humiliation and self-debasement, he strapped on his game face and went for it.
And he realised how stupid he had been to think about it like it meant anything.
It was easy to land them, there’s nothing to it.
They all want to hear the same thing, but don’t be too nice about it all or you’ll be seen as “a good friend”.
Nope, you have to pretend like you’re doing them a favour. Make them work for it, trust me on this, it’s better than chasing after them like a dog left at a campsite.
You don’t believe me? You want to write this off as bitter, angry revenge talk?
If that makes you comfortable then by all means put it down to that.
He had spent the weekend playing the game and he had won. No telephone number given afterwards, no promises of anything further.
He went out on Friday, drank the drink, voiced the script and left there Saturday afternoon.
Did the same on Sunday too with another one.
You’re still thinking this is just hurt and wounded inner-feelings of sorrow?
Ok, here’s how to do it:
Just say the right things, smile here, insert a joke there and by the end of the night with enough practice? You’re not spending the evening alone.
It’s like playing a video-game it’s that easy.
Really, it is.
Push the buttons and Open Sesame!
Confuse them with sex or the lack of it. Keep them guessing or once they think they have you figured out?
They’ll be onto the next.
Hey brother, don’t get angry at me for telling you the cold hard truth here.
I didn’t make the rules, I just play them better.
Try it, next time you fancy feeling like a god?
Studied indifference and nonchalance will beat emotive, timid little mortals every single time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to write an email to another one telling them how much I enjoyed the weekend and how much fun they are/funny they are/interesting to talk to/good to be around/special I felt with them. (delete as applicable).
Sorry, what was that?
You thought this was going to be another one of those woeful and cringing missives about how lonely he is without her and how much he misses her?
Nope, this is nothing but the honest, brutal truth about men and women.
Oh now wait, obviously not *you* and your partner – she’s perfect.
I meant the other guy.
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