penkitten
Master Don Juan
trim the pm box is full
You made your case like a lawyer. Stable job. Good guy. Ready for something real. All true. All irrelevant.
She weighed your points, nodded along, felt nothing — then fell hard for some tattooed bartender with a motorcycle and a gambling problem.
Logic is where attraction goes to die. The "22 Rules" work a level deeper, on the subconscious switches that decide within minutes whether you register as a MAN or as part of the furniture.
Stop presenting evidence. Start flipping switches.
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.
Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
Yeah sleeping was the worse, that, and the weight loss. But I actually liked the weight loss part. Not that I was fat but I feel much better now than I have in a long time. I lost 18 pounds in about a 2 month period.Originally posted by TheTrimReaper
Sleep still sucks. I lay in bed for four hours last night thinking. I have to take care of this somehow. I'll get the therapist to do something on Thursday. I haven't been down today. That might be a first.
I don't know about this one, it seems I've been drinking moreOriginally posted by persistent exaction
and I drank more
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.
what would happen is that she would think the following things:Originally posted by TheTrimReaper
Thanks for all of your help, or else I would have sent something a long time ago. If I did send something, what would happened anyway?
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.
Persistent,Originally posted by persistent exaction
Trim you've had two pieces of contact that have set you back. And you don't ordinarily think of these things as contact but they are.
The first was the email that you didn't respond to. Nevertheless you read it and you parsed it and you rolled it over in your mind and it made you think about her and your relationship again. You relived it.
Second, talking to the friend about the x. Yep. Same thing. That also has forced you to rethink your relationship.
You asked her if she wanted to grab coffee. Then you asked if the time worked. Then you asked if the place was okay. Then you asked if she'd prefer tea.
Four questions. Four chances for her to say no. Four signals that you're terrified of making a decision.
Plan it. Pick the place. Pick the time. Tell her where to meet you. She'll either show up or she won't.
Either way, you look like a man instead of a scared little boy.