Tonight, I let my little boy out.
You know the one, we all have one. Remember in grade school and you offered your crush a flower? In high school we wrote poems, gave gifts, imagined our entire lives together as a married couple.
Eventually, we run enough gambits as naive boys to the girls we like, and eventually we get rejected so much we fall. We fall down a pit of despair longer and longer until we hit the ground.
Maybe it was 22 years as a involuntary incel through high school and college. Maybe you lucked into a couple random flings and married a woman for a decade, only to be divorced at 35 and clueless. Maybe it was your first long term high school girlfriend who dumped you when you both reached college. We all had a different path but eventually the path looks so dark ahead we would try anything to get out.
Then we discovered Game.
Game tells you to be the opposite of the little boy. Don’t be nice, be an asshole. Have an edge about you, discover your masculinity and dominate her femininity. Throw things at her, pull her hair, poke her.
Beginner success may have come slow or fast but you eventually hit a point where something unbelievable happens to you. Maybe you kiss a girl within moments of meeting her, or you get your first one night stand but you eventually learn to fake enough confidence and you start to see the cracks in the matrix.
Is this really possible? I can DO this? You start to feel like maybe you’re more than a minnow following the school of fish in the vast ocean, and maybe there’s more to blind luck in the dating game. The little boy struggles against your new found persona.
You start to have more success until you fall for a new girl, this one a little different. This one maybe could be a long term thing, maybe you start to get a little comfortable around her, not put in so much effort. The little boy comes out again in a moment of weakness as you fall back into your old comfortable self and CRACK.
You hit your ass on the pavement as she pulls the rug out from under your feet.
Then you have a decision to make, do I go back to the ‘old’ me with this knowledge, or do I go over the edge and create a new identity which will create more success, sending you off into the deep end into a new reality you didn’t know was possible. You either choose to nurture the little boy inside you and go back to what you know, or you dive off the deep end and discover what could be.
I chose the deep end.
I went out and hit on anything with a heartbeat. I did a boot camp, hustled the bars at night and relentlessly went after notches like a rabid hyena. The little boy starved and the wolf inside me fed. I was heartless, cheating on girls, seizing any opportunity to get another notch, regardless of the wasteland I left behind. Strangers, friends of friends, girls at house parties when my ‘girlfriend’ was there.
I never found love. The little boy thought he had found love, but really it was desperation for me to hang onto a girl when I thought I couldn’t do better. That’s not love that’s addiction.
One day I met a girl on the street named Kalina after a intramural sport event. I asked her and her friends to join my friends for lunch. She was a sexy 20 year old, big feminine eyes, nice ass and tits, and one of the most affection submissive girls I had ever been with. We started dating, and a few months in my little boy came out. I took it easy, I wanted to be comfortable. I didn’t think I could do any better, I was too invested in her. She started to feel it too.
Patrice O’Neal said that however long it takes a bitch to break you down, that’s how long she’ll stay with you to enjoy the spoils.
About 9 months in the signs were coming in but I was too inexperienced to notice. She asked me to come over and talk, and I finally put it together. The little boy came out in desperation mode, I tried every trick in the book to get her emotional, get her horny, but it was too far gone. In a hail mary moment I clutched onto my childish beliefs and I dropped the L word, I told her I loved her.
Her eyes instantly changed to pity.
A dagger into my heart, a knot in my stomach so deep and so familiar from the rejections I had suffered in high school as a bitch boy beta. I was devastated.
My moment of weakness, my little boy resurfaced.
Cue 6 months of self pity and self destruction. About 3 months after the break up I started on a pussy crusade. I went after anything and everything and I vowed never to let the little boy see the light of day. Game works, it got me the girl. I get soft, the girl leaves, it all makes sense. This got me out of my depression. I didn’t get attached for another 2 years to a girl, leaving a wasteland of devastation behind.
Jennie is the ex.
My ego never left me say “I love you” first, because the books and the gurus say not to. My instinct was to tell her 8 months in, but I couldn’t and now she’s gone for better or for worse. How could I not have learned from Kalina? But alas, my experience has taught me much, and I must learn to trust my gut even if it means discarding certain tenets of Game.
If I trusted my gut, and let the little boy out, maybe things would be different. But I let the little boy out a 100 times before as an adolescence and it never worked, why would I believe any differently now?
I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know which side to feed. Do I trust my gut instinct above all else? Letting the little boy destroy a few (dozen) maybe girls to possibly find a girl to love? Or do I stick to what I know, the fast lay, R selected playboy who gets laid and then ends up lonely.
Who do I feed?