The Devil On My Shoulder
“I look into your eyes and I see so much pain,” the girl sitting across from me said.
I had just finished telling her the condensed version of why I left America behind.
“Why is there so much pain in your eyes? I can tell it’s real but I do not understand why.”
She pressed on.
Looking for more answers as to why I left my homeland behind. The homeland, land of opportunity. Opportunity a 20-year-old girl like her can only dream of.
She was wearing a flowing skirt with a flower print shirt that showed off her stomach. Her heels were at least 4 inches, she told me she wore them so she would not be as tiny (157 cm and 42kg – or 5’2″ and 92 pounds). Her hair was done in an elaborate style and her makeup impeccable.
I loved how she looked.
She told me she loves it when men bring her flowers on the first date. I had to explain that if we were in America, it would probably weird a girl out if I brought flowers.
I loved the way she presented herself with her style and elegance.
“Please, tell me more. Why so much pain?”
The questions weren’t going away at this point.
I explained my pain in a slow and methodical way. Both so that nothing would be lost in translation (though her English was excellent), and to stress my point.
And for one other reason.
Because it is painful.
“I left America behind because I was tired of everything about it. I was tired of the way the dating scene works. Why can’t I bring a girl flowers on a date? It doesn’t make sense that she is turned off by that. I grew tired of having a boss and always having to do things like everyone said I should.”
She chimed back and told me that she likes a man who can think for himself, and that it really turns her on. She wants to be feminine and support a man, but not many men can meet that expectation.
“You see the pain in my eyes because there is a lot of it. It sucks. I’m here in a foreign country, in a city that isn’t the capital. Nobody speaks my language. I left my girls, family, friends, apartment, and everything comfortable about my life behind.”
So yes, there is a lot of pain in my eyes because…well, it really hurts.”
She sat back and processed it.
She asked if I was happy with my decision. I told her yes, absolutely–I am. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt a bit. It doesn’t mean I don’t have some tough days here and there. It doesn’t mean that I don’t wish I could import parts of America to Poland whilst keeping the good of their culture.
But the world doesn’t work like that.
About ten minutes later, she said she had to go. I paid the bill and we walked outside of the cafe we’d been sitting inside. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and we went our separate ways. It had gone well and I looked forward to seeing her again.
I never saw her again.
Perhaps she was afraid.
Or maybe, my pain was just too much to take.
I know I will never love my girl the way she loves me, Disney fantasy dreams. I can never feel that strong or even close again. Impossible. Part of me is saddened by it, and part of me says there was no choice. These are the cards I’ve got in my hand.
The ability to get the type of women we always desired, but in exchange we lose the ability to fully love them.
Once you become educated in the way of women, it’s natural to become a bit jaded. Over time, this passes, as I’ve discussed—you must let go. If you don’t, you’ll just end up a miserable old hack.
But learning the true nature of how male and female dynamics works does something else. You can get the women you always lusted and desired for. You can have sex with them, and you can even keep them around in a happy and fulfilling relationship. But it all comes with a trade off. Things will be different than the fantasy world that you grew up in.
Ultimately, there is a price to learning all of this. You make a deal with the devil.
You can now get all of the girls you always desired, but you can never fully love them.
You can have the best girl in the world. Beautiful, feminine, sweet, and full of life and love. But there will always be a little devil in the back of your head reminding you to not go too head over heels. That little creature on your shoulder, that voice in your head…he will never go away. Everything in life with your girlfriend gets analyzed with a bit of a “transactional” element. Your relationships become more about doing good business versus doing it for love.
Is that good or bad? It depends how you’d like to look at it.
Think back to your first crush. Not relationship—crush.
That first girl who caught your eye. Maybe as earlier as 6th grade, maybe as late as high school. I’m talking the first girl who got your attention after your hormones had started going haywire. You probably fantasized about her all the time, and it probably wasn’t even that dirty. Perhaps you imagined going to pizza and kissing her ala Lady and the Tramp, or perhaps you just wanted to hold hands and walk around the park. Yeah, the dirty thoughts would come a year or so later, but you know what I mean.
Even if you are an older fella, you still have those fantasies of a happy relationship. The Hollywood ending. Even if you want to do dirty and depraved things with a girl, there’s this part of you that also wants to love her and cherish her as a human being. Once you go through this part of life and come across on the other side, these fantasies are gone.
Never again will you have these Disney rom-com fantasies playing in your head while you sleep. Instead, you’ll lay awake at night analyzing the status of your relationship. This Disney, fantasy love is for women and women alone. An enlightened man instead tends to look at the relationship with this thought in his mind: “Do I have the power over her?”
Now, this isn’t to say that you can’t be happy without the Disney fantasies and lies. In many ways, you have such a deeper understanding of your intuition that it actually makes life quite a bit easier. What I mean by this goes back to emotions versus analytics. Men tend to look at things from a numerical, linear sense. When things are going bad in your relationship, it’s natural to take a notepad and write the good and bad things.
However, we’re also slaves to our emotions. Many a girl has kept a man tossing and turning at night…
- “Does she love me?”
- “Is she cheating on me?”
- “Is she going to dump me?”
That deal with the devil allows you to see straight through the bullshit and saves you the emotional turmoil. It’s simple. If you take all of your thinking, apply it logically to the situation, and your gut tells you that she’s cheating on you—she probably is. If you take your emotions and then apply your natural, masculine, and logical thinking to a situation, you’ll be able to come out on the other side of it better off than if you removed the logical thinking.
The turmoil I face within myself is if that little devil will ever leave my shoulder. As I grow older, and desire a stable home and family, what happens? Will I have a war in my head every day about whether or not I am “winning” the relationship with my wife? Do I still have power and hand in our dynamic, or is she taking over? Does she still respect me as the alpha of the family, and in charge—or is she trying to supersede me?
So far, in every relationship I’ve had since I started learning this stuff—the answer has been no. This has led to my assumption that this little devil is not going away. I’ve made the deal with him, and now I will have to uphold my end of that deal for the rest of my life.
That deal allows me to get access to the women I want, and get what I want out of them. And it also means I can never fully love them.
There are days I wish I could go back to the older days of thinking. Being able to fully love someone, head over heels. To just fall so blissfully in love that nothing in the world could ruin it. At the same time, there tended to be a natural tendency for those things to implode, eventually. It seemed that women didn’t want love.
This comes down to societal programming versus biology, again. Women want love, but they want a strong man’s love. Not the sniveling dweeb portrayed in Hollywood. A woman will love the strong, masculine, and dominant man to the moon and back. But those men are not the ones blissfully in love. To be those men you must have a higher mission pushing you to great heights. Women are secondary. It doesn’t matter if it’s business, fitness, or (I hope) family, eventually.
The men who make a woman their world are the ones who are blissfully in love, and also the ones being burned at the end of the relationship. They’re the ones whose wives are stepping out of them, are going months without sex, and the ones asking permission to go out for a beer with their friends (while his wife goes and fucks her other lover). And women hate that man with the utmost passion.
Ironically, many of the men who are practically neutered these days didn’t start that way. If he did, his wife wouldn’t have married him in the first place. She would have upgraded to something more sturdy to ultimately settle down with. It’s over the course of the relationship that he starts caving in to a few things, and one thing leads to another. What originally becomes a “Can you stay in with me while I’m sick tonight?” then becomes “You can’t go have beers with Fred because I said so.”
Why does this happen? It’s simple conflict avoidance, and emotional energy. It takes energy to stand up for yourself, even on the little tests. It starts small, and continues to grow. However, once you cave on enough small things, they might as well equal a really big one. You continue to just be agreeable, because being agreeable is easy. The next thing you know, you’re agreeing to let your significant other go to another man’s house for some “fun”. Yeah, that really happened to me. At that point, your woman has lost any and all respect for you because you didn’t respect yourself. You put her needs constantly above yours, and she’s probably taken actions to hurt the relationship. She can’t help it, girls love the drama of the unknown. Once she realized she had to manufacturer that excitement in her life, she kept going.
It’s like giving a recovering alcoholic a bottle of beer, one time. The next time you let him have a sip of vodka. Then it’s a shot. He has to keep going higher and higher to get the thrill.
It’s why people resort to such insane sexual acts once they become too desensitized to “normal” stuff with porn. What started as normal sex scenes turns into the most depraved gang bangs and other disgusting acts.
I don’t use these as examples to be dramatic, but to illustrate the point. If you let her step out of line once, okay. She’s going to push even further next time. And further after that. Eventually, you reach a point where you can’t really say no because you’ve set such a precedent.
Sure, relationships can lose their lust over time. You aren’t going to feel the same lust a year into a relationship than the first encounter, it’s just not how biology works. Biology gives you those lustful feelings at first so you will reproduce with that person. However, many men don’t know what the hell happened to their relationship. When they lost their balls and masculinity. Where they fell down in their relationship. That is where the devil comes in.
Remember that deal you made…
Many men don’t have a damn clue where they went wrong, and that’s what the little devil is there for. Every step of the way, he’s whispering in your ear to put your foot down on her bullshit. He gets pretty damn tiring, and you wonder if you can ever let your guard down…
Well, by reading my stuff, you officially have signed over to that devil. He is never leaving your shoulder. Every relationship you have in your life is going to have him whispering to you to stand your grand, not tolerate her bullshit, and to stand up like a man.
It’s emotionally exhausting, in a different way. Whereas before I would worry if a girl was stepping out on me, or worried she might dump me—those concerns are no longer a thing. I know exactly how to make sure a girl is happy in her relationship with me, to ensure I always have the power, and to ensure that she’s never leaving me because I’m the best she’s ever had, in every facet of life. But yeah, it’s tiring.
But, then I compare it to the days of wondering if my girlfriend was cheating on me with her co-worker. Wondering why I was doing everything she asked me to do, and yet becoming more of a pain in the ass every day. That first relationship, with the truly poisonous girl…truly broke me, in many ways. I never understood why things were the way they were with us. I truly dedicated 100% of my energy to making her happy, and it got me nowhere.
If I’d had that little devil on my shoulder, I wonder how things would have been. Let’s talk about that relationship.
I met her at the end of my freshmen year in college. Up until that point, I’d never even kissed a girl in my life. I was closing in on 19, and I figured my sexual future was at a crossroads. There were serious thoughts about whether or not I would die a virgin. Dramatic, yes—but I was 19. Most of us are at that point in our lives.
She and I met through a mutual friend, and I’m admittedly not sure how it all happened. At some point though, I got her number. I got dragged by her and that mutual friend to a Pilates class, and got my ass kicked. She thought it was endearing. She should have seen me for the pussy I was at that time—it would have saved us both a lot of emotional trauma.
The thing is, she had a high school boyfriend back home in Los Angeles (we were going to school in San Diego). We went on a couple dates at the end of the year, I finally got my penis touched by a girl (albeit no sex), and it went well. Then she went home to him. I was naturally filled with dread over what would happen. Here was a guy she had dated for years in high school, trying to get her back. I’d just popped into the picture less than a month before, and was going to be apart from her all summer. The last thing I wanted to lose was my new access to handjobs and blowjobs!
Well, he did me a huge favor. I have my doubts about this story. I suspect it was exaggerated. From her account, he came over to her house to “talk about them”, and things went south. He then shoved her on to a couch and left. She called me in tears, and of course I wanted to run to her side. Her dad was a cop, but no charges were pressed. Who knew if anything would have come of it anyway. In a lot of cases, I think women respond (somewhat positively) to this kind of primal violence. Like I’ve said, many women return to husbands who hit them. I do think if I had not been around, all would have been forgiven with him. But, because she had me, a shiny new toy, to fall back on, she actually managed to cut things off with him.
I helped move things along greatly…
Because my parents were planning their annual trip to the second home up in Oregon. I hated going there, and they were going to let me stay home. Then I got to thinking…”What if I invite this girl?”
I got my parent’s permission. She’d fly up to Northern California, then drive with me, and my parents would drive separately. It’d be seven or so days in total, albeit my memory escapes me.
Naturally, her parents were quite apprehensive of me. I remember talking to her dad (again, a cop) on the phone. It was absolutely terrifying at first. Thankfully, parents have always loved me because I’ve had the social skills to talk to them as a peer, and not a child. He gave me his blessing, as did her mom. I suspect it was more in the hopes that she’d run to me, instead of running back to the ex. I could have been anyone and it would have been enough to me. It was just a bonus that I was also going to college (unlike the ex), and had a lot going on for me. Her parents always loved me, and we’ll get to why that was a bad thing in a minute. What you need to know is that I had their blessing for her to come with me to Oregon.
So here I had a girl, who I had known for about a month total. She was coming to spend a week with me. We were in a relationship, and everything seemed all fine and dandy.
Well, the first trip went off reasonably well. There was a little drama here and there, and I should have seen the warning signs—her complete inability to control any mood. I had no clue how to handle it. These days, I’d have no trouble getting her to shape up or fuck off. 19-year-old me, enamored with the first girl to touch my penis, wasn’t going to have any of that. He was going to do everything in his power to keep that coming.
The trip ended, she went home, and then dropped a bomb. She and her family had a vacation planned for later in the year. It had been planned for a year, and her ex had a ticket. It was for a week in DisneyWorld, Florida, and then another week on a cruise ship going through the Bahamas and the Caribbean.
How would I like to come on that trip?
I gave up all my hopes of getting a summer job, and agreed to go. The ticket was changed for a reasonable cost (her parents paid). Of course, I needed to go and meet them first. I took a trip down to Los Angeles in June (the trip was in late July/August), and spent five days down there. I met all her friends, and got along great. Things were great. I even got some action in her parents house. But one thing was missing—actual sex.
Well, that card was held over my head for nearly the next two years.
That trip was full of drama, and that drama never stopped. Eventually, after eight months of no action, and still no actual sex, the bomb was dropped on me.
“So…I’m feeling kind of distant from you lately. There is a guy at work who has a crush on me, and I kind of like him. How would you feel if I…well, went and hooked up with him a bit? As a way of rekindling our spark?”
I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I think it was something like, “Okay, if that’s what you want and you think you need. BUT, I may not be here for you when you come back.”
I was bluffing. I would have probably taken her back with open arms. But here I was, a total cuck—right to my face. At least she had some decency over it, eh? Meanwhile, I think it’s worth noting that we still had not had sex. I’d been waiting forever, and there was a reason she held off on it forever.
It was the one thing she had that I still wanted. It was a power play. As long as she held on to that final trump card, I’d stick around in the hopes of “sealing the deal”. It’s funny, because in high school I’d always thought I could wait a year for sex. That relationship lasted nearly two years.
Well, she went over to his house that one night. I refused to talk to her for two days beforehand, which probably had the accidental benefit of making her chase me a bit. She finally texted me that night, and said:
“I can’t do this. I love you too much. I’m coming over, I can’t do it.”
Then she showed up to my house in tears. He tried to kiss her when she was leaving, and grazed her lips. At the time, I thought he was a guy with game, since he was literally stealing my girl with somewhat of my permission. In hindsight, he probably had game as bad as mine—waiting until the last minute to get just a graze of the lips. If he’d had game (he knew about me), he would have had his tongue down her throat in the first half hour of her coming over to “watch a movie”.
I wish he would have.
I forgave her. Again. Somehow it got made out to be my fault though. Yeah, she was pretty good at that. Our relationship continued a little while longer.
Finally, she did something that just pushed me over the edge. We fought and fought, for hours on end. I was so emotional, my memory simply doesn’t even recall what it was about. It likely started as something stupid, and ended up with her manipulating me towards feeling like dirt. Like I said, she was good at it. To make a long, unintelligible story short, we decided to go on a break.
That night, I sobbed into my pillow. But finally, I felt a freeing feeling that I hadn’t felt in nearly two years. The weight was lifted off my shoulders.
Of course, the story didn’t quite end there. A few weeks later she returned to pick up some things, and tried to get back together. She tried to kiss me to rekindle things (using the exact words she’d used to ask my permission to hook up with another guy)…
What caused that? Well, just a week or so before I’d gone to a 21 and under club with some new friends of mine from the cycling team. While at that club, I’d been dancing and some girl had just flat-out come up to me and made out with me. I didn’t do anything, she literally just walked up to me and shoved her tongue down my throat. I never even got her name, number, or anything. I have no idea who she was. These were not good friends whom I had history with either. I had just met many of them within the last month or so. So I don’t think it was them egging her on (or paying her) to help me move on. But for whatever reason, I truly got lucky that night. Because that one makeout session on the dance floor was such a thrill, and I knew that there was more than one girl in the world that wanted to kiss me. I knew I could move on from the old girlfriend, that there were other girls in the world. All of a sudden, I felt like the world was my oyster, rather than being trapped by one girl.
When the girl came back to pick up her stuff, I told her this story of what happened on the dance floor. In hindsight, I now know what this did to her. It turned her on. She saw that other women desired me, and that reaffirmed her choice in me for the last two years. When I told her that story, I saw the look in her eyes change. I went from a chode begging for sex to someone who had options. Despite the emotional turmoil, I remember how quickly the mood shifted. All of a sudden, I was the prize—and she wanted me back. She went for that kiss…
…and somehow, I managed to summon the courage to turn my cheek and tell her I wasn’t interested.
This mindset would serve me well in the coming years, and still does.
Because that little devil is always there. He always reminds me that I can walk away, and that there are other fish in the sea. That there are billions of people in the world, billions of whom are women. More than likely, there is another out there who can love me, who will want to have sex with me, and appreciate me for who I am. That little devil is always there to back my play to walk away. Sure, he took away my ability to love like a fool—but he gave me the ability to be free. To pick myself up from the darkest point in my life, and build something better.
I can’t get rid of him, but as I tell this story, I realize that he’s there for a reason.