Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
She calls you when her car breaks down. When she needs help moving. When some guy she's actually dating treats her badly.
You're the listener. The reliable one. The guy who would treat her so much better, if she'd just open her eyes.
She won't. You trained her to see you as the low-effort option — the friend who requires zero risk and zero investment. Every favor dug the hole deeper.
The "22 Rules" break the pattern. You'll stop auditioning for a role she already cast and become the man she chases instead. It starts with Rule 1.
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.
Here is the thing BN. These crazy women that you date? With all of the issues and everything else? You are JUST as crazy, maybe more so, than they are.bigneil said:Day 28. While I had fantasized about having two hot Russian women, the truth is that I am now basically married to one and we have a 23 year old daughter.
It's the strangest thing - to realize after only 5 weeks since meeting her that this random phone number turned into both a roommate and romantic relationship, and one that is actually really working.
I've never lived with a girl before, and I realize I like living with her. We have sex pretty much every night now, and she is falling for me for sure. I knew when I got that extended look during dinner. The comfortable silence as Pulp Fiction coined.
The Russian has officially cured me of the Stripper (after 18 months of dating), though I am keeping her on the side. I've realized that by my dating a girl 21 years younger, that now dating a girl 12 years younger is no problem. It's sort of like strength resistance training.
However last night the Russian actually said "My doctor said I have Borderline Personality Disorder". I said "My friends were right! BPD! So it's only a matter of time before I trigger abandonment disorder and you paint me black and the sex stops."
i think cordocordon is getting a hardonhardon for bigneil and his "lucid' threadcordoncordon said:Here is the thing BN. These crazy women that you date? With all of the issues and everything else? You are JUST as crazy, maybe more so, than they are.
If you ever get a lucid moment in that head of yours? Think about that.
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.