I realized I can get digits without any problem. That part was easy. I even had girls straight up ask me what mine where. I just hesitate making anything happen after wards. that is my confession. give me advice or make a confession of your own
That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.
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.
It's like taking bitter medicine. Feels awful doing it but its a must.women haze said:I miss my ex gf...that's my confession. I know that is not the way of a Don Juan to actually miss a B!@#$ that did nothing but hurt you, but I can't help it. It's hard to move on and I don't know how you guys do it.
Everyone's been there dude. They say to spin plates and I agree. I'm one of the few wait-until-marriage guys around here, and I still agree.women haze said:I miss my ex gf...that's my confession. I know that is not the way of a Don Juan to actually miss a B!@#$ that did nothing but hurt you, but I can't help it. It's hard to move on and I don't know how you guys do it.
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.