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.
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.
KontrollerX said:If he's open to information give him a link to BPDfamily.org.
Then he can at least get some information on the borderline he's dealing with.
And don't do anymore than that.
He'll have to crash and burn hard before he'll even consider getting rid of her.
Attraction runs on a clock.
She flirted for weeks. Touched your arm. Found reasons to be alone with you. And you were careful. Respectful. Waiting for the right moment.
The moment had a shelf life. It expired around month two, and by the time you asked her out, she'd quietly filed you under "little brother."
One of the hardest lessons inside the 22 Rules: women rarely wait. Interest either grows or it decays, and nothing decays it faster than a man who never moves.
Make the move while she's still inventing reasons to be near you.
You've replayed it a hundred times. She stood three feet away, scrolling her phone. You had an opening. You composed the perfect line — after she was gone.
For all you know, she's married now. To some guy who said something. Anything.
Openers are cheap. Almost any sentence works when it's delivered within three seconds. The expensive part is the standing there, drafting and deleting, while the window quietly closes.
The "22 Rules" stripped out my hesitation. What to open with, how to keep it alive, and the one habit that costs guys more women than anything else: waiting for perfect.
Yes, but they don't deserve special treatment. If you are dating a BPD woman, and she has a tantrum, you leave her. You don't stick around and say "oh, well she has BPD, so she has an excuse." They should be treated like any other woman, if they behave in an unacceptable manner, they should be dropped.DarthAngel707 said:All of u guys who scream that BPD women are screwed in the head and are like AIDS, u guys need to shut the hell up. My sister is BPD and it is something u don't choose and she happens to be very intelligent and attended one of the top colleges in America. Yes, high intelligence and BPD seem to go hand in hand.
Next time u see a physically handicapped person, u would not tease him/her right? Same thing with BPD, it is something u are born with, at least a higher proclivity of having it is genetically determined.
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.
She doesn't deserve special treatment. If she can't behave in a manner that is acceptable to the man that is dating her, the man should leave.DarthAngel707 said:Lol, u sound as if u are a family member of the BPD woman when u are just "some guy" to her meaning that u have no idea what a family member of a BPD woman goes through. You are a third-party complaining about basically nothing because u can easily just ignore her or shrug her off.
DarthAngel707 said:high intelligence and BPD seem to go hand in hand.
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.