BootsOfEscaping
Don Juan
She is the only one on the lease. No way can I stay longer than I already have. She wants me to move and so do I.
Don Juanabbe, clean out your mailbox!
Don Juanabbe, clean out your mailbox!
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.
You paid for dinner. You drove. You said "whatever you want is fine" every single time. All the effort, no expectations.
And she left anyway — probably for a guy who makes her pick up the pizza.
Painful. Also predictable. Her mind quietly concludes that anything requiring zero effort from her is worth exactly zero. You became a free sample, and free samples get taken for granted.
The 22 Rules flip the dynamic. Small shifts that get her investing effort, money, and time in you — until SHE'S the one afraid of losing YOU.
I had two lowest parts in my life. The first one was living with my ex's dad. I kept everything in a small bedroom with me. Boxes were piled high to the ceiling. I crammed my dresser, tv, stereo, cats, litter box, and my computer into that tiny little room. I had to deal with my ex coming over and telling her dad (right outside my room) about the latest guy she's been fvcking.That was the lowest point in my life.
Living in a STUDIO apartment, in my 30's with nothing to my name except a truck, tv and sleeping bag.
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.
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.
Why do they do that?Originally posted by NewMan
I feel ya.
It's funny, because my ex just IM'd me - wanting to know how I am...
Fvck that. Fvck being nice - and fvck being friends.
Don't give her the pleasure of thinking you will be "There for her"....
cut it off and don't look back.