Yeah, the “I love you”, milestone is what I’m talking about. Some might say it’s about fucking time and that we moved at a turtle’s speed, but you can’t rush these things. At least not in a genuine sense. I mean, I “loved” my last girlfriend, but only because I felt obligated to say it after she dropped that bomb on me after a whopping three weeks of dating. Bitches be cray for trouble, what can I say.
She said that she loved me first. I reciprocated. And meant every word of it. Some might call it “convenient” timing, with my whole living and career situation up in the air, but how can I hold that against her, really? I’m a high value man who makes her incredibly happy. She would be a fool to give that up without a fight, and I’d even go as far as to say it’s smart for her to use every trick in the book.
But, that’s not what this post is about. I do not have an offer letter in front of me yet, nor do I want to think about how to handle my relationship until I’ve signed on the dotted line. No, this post is about love and my newfound understanding of it.
When I first started penning this blog, I was bitter against the world. I just wanted to stick my dick in as many vaginas as possible, and tried to give as little of a shit about any of the girls; albeit I did develop feelings for the cool ones like Little Red and Shannon. But, at the risk of sounding like a total fag, to me the endless soul-searching for happiness does not lie at the bottom of a vagina. There is so much more to life than that, and while pussy is great – it shouldn’t control it.
I started to crack with my current girlfriend, Holly. I genuinely care like hell for the girl. She has given me immense happiness and satisfaction that would have never been achieved in an endless five-dates-a-week hunt. At the same time, I love the girl. But this love isn’t exactly what I thought it was going to feel like. In today’s Disney world, we’re taught that love is a drug. An obsession. An “I can’t live without you”, stage-five clinger attitude. That’s not healthy.
I’ve been pleasantly surprised to understand that love this time around is more about respect, friendship, loyalty, and building memories than an unhealthy obsession with each other. Having been there, done that with relationships before, I understand the passion and heat that comes from those, but also understand all of the headaches that accompany it. There is none of that with Holly. And that’s not to say that sex doesn’t play a huge part of it – it does, but if your game is tight you won’t have any issues with that anyway in a relationship.
Sure, relationships are not for everyone. I was admittedly a bit terrified of hanging up the player suit and “settling down” a bit. I don’t regret it a bit. I adore the girl, and have a deeper understanding of what I think love should be with her – as opposed to the ideal, but never realistic impressions shoved down our throat in today’s world.
And maybe that’s what has so many men lost, and then finding the Manosphere. Maybe they’re just searching for love, and then come across game and the magical pussy that is bestowed upon the person who masters it. I did it, and I totally get the appeal. Every man should go through that phase, and I wouldn’t be the person I am without that. I understand that love might be fleeting. It might be difficult. It sure as hell is scary. While some say love is kind, I have no doubt love could smack me in the face at any time.
But as I write this, it doesn’t matter. I understand love, better than I ever have before.