Should I Live With Her?

person giving keys on man
Caveat Emptor: Let the Buyer Beware.

A good friend of mine reached out to me just a few days ago. He told me that he and his girlfriend had just broken up. From what he told me, they had been together for awhile. A year or so from what I gather.

They had been living together for a period of time and had just decided on getting a place together, a place that was larger and better than where they had been currently living. Something that they could call their own. They would have moved in on February 1st of this year. But not now. Now that she decided to end it.

I’m sure he’s wondering about the “what’s” and the “why’s” of their break up. I would, and I did when my relationship ended a couple of months ago. I wondered why we broke up. I wondered what I could have done better. I still wonder from time to time about those things.

I’m sure that she gave him some sort of answer as to why they broke up. Maybe it was something similar to what I was given when my ex broke up with me. Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was something about his diet, his health. Maybe it was his politics. Maybe it was all of these things or none of them at all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

The truth of it all, the real fucking nut crushing, hard core, in your face truth is, it doesn’t matter why she left. It doesn’t matter what reason she gave. It doesn’t matter what he thinks he may or may not need to change for a future relationship if he decides to get in another one.

She left because she could. She left because she wanted to. She left because “reasons.” Reasons are just rationalizations and excuses at the end of the day. They don’t really matter. They don’t change anything. In the end, she left because that was what she wanted to do.

I have to remind myself of this sometimes. My ex ultimately left because she wanted to. She didn’t want to be with me anymore. That’s the beginning, middle, and end of it. She didn’t want to do it anymore. And that’s that. I don’t say that out of misery. I don’t say that to garner sympathy. I don’t pity myself. It is just reality. The only reality that matters. She left because she wanted to.

You Men reading this, I want you to understand this:

She left because she could. She left because she wanted to. That’s all that matters. Everything else is just rationalizations piled on bullshit piled on excuses.

She left because she could. She left because she wanted to.

This is the reason that she left. She may tell you a variety of reasons that she left, or not. She could say shit like, “you are too fat.” “You are too domineering.” “You are too angry, too disagreeable, too cold and you shut me out, etc.” None of this changes anything. And it won’t bring her back if you change it. She left because she could.

So your challenge now is to pick up the pieces and move on. To start over. Learn from it and move on. Do shit differently, but move on.

Which brings me to the subject line:

“Should I live with her?”

If you are under the age of 30, the short answer is no. You haven’t established yourself yet. If you are in your career, it’s either just starting, or it’s just starting to take off.

I’ve witnessed many Men, young and old, move a woman in with them only to be bankrupt and living either with their parents or living in a shit-hole a few years later when the relationship went south.

One of the biggest mistakes you can make is to get a lease or a mortgage that you cannot afford on your own and then entrust this other party, your woman, to carry half of the financial responsibility of this arrangement. What are you going to do if the relationship grenades? You either break the lease and take a hit on your credit and then you can’t get a house down the road, you break the lease and can’t get into something else that is decent, so you end up living in a shit-hole, or you may get “lucky” and be able to move back in with your family, or you end up having to get roommates to pay the bills. And beggars can’t be choosers at that time. Have you seen the majority of people that are “roommates?” Flighty, flakes, and fuck offs for the most part. Who wants or needs the drama? Chasing them down to collect their part of the rent. Going after them because they ate your shit. Confronting them on the fact that they are complete pigs and don’t clean up after themselves. No thank you, I’ll pass.

I own my own home. I’ve lived in it for fifteen years. My house has seen quite a few women come through its doors, including an ex-wife and now an ex-girlfriend. In all cases whether there has been another party living under my roof or not, I can pay the mortgage and all of my other bills. I’m not in danger of losing my home.

I can’t stand the idea of having roommates unless they are women and I’m sleeping with them. Too many flakes, dipshits, and deadbeats in the world. I don’t need or want that drama. So I saved up quite a bit of money when I was younger and started thinking long game. I found something that I could afford on my own. That way I wouldn’t be financially impacted in the event that a significant other and I decided to part ways.

You Men reading this and thinking of moving in with a woman, whether you marry her or not, need to keep this in mind:

If you can’t afford the lease, the rent, or the mortgage on your own, you don’t do the lease or get the mortgage. You don’t get a place together. You may move her into your place if you have the space and can afford to make that move, but don’t get a place that requires both of you to put up the money. You can avoid a lot of headaches and heartaches by doing this.

It will require you thinking in long game terms. That means living within your means. Spending less that you earn. Reducing or eliminating as much outstanding debt that you have. That means you may be making certain sacrifices. You may not be eating out as much. You may be living with your folks for a while longer. You will have to delay your gratification.

Moving her into a place that is in your name means it’s yours. She will have to be the one to find somewhere to live if the relationship ends, not you. Moving sucks. I’ve done it enough in the past and I’ve helped others do it many times over the years. That’s why I’ve lived where I have for as long as I have. That, and it’s a decent area. It’s also close to my work, so my commute is only 10 minutes.

I planned all of those things long before I met my ex-wife or my ex-girlfriend. That’s also how I survived the housing recession back in 2008. I only borrowed what I could afford to pay back and I lived within my means. I was never in danger of losing my home back then, and I’m not in any danger of losing it now. I’m definitely not going to lose it over some woman because we broke up.

If you can’t afford the place by yourself on your own, don’t get into that place. Period. Don’t move her in to help with the bills because you can’t afford those bills on your own. Don’t move her in so that you have “pussy on tap.”

The best, most intense, and most frequent sex I ever had, with any woman, was before I moved her in.

Familiarity does breed contempt. Or at least a degree of comfort and laziness. And the sex can quickly decline in frequency and intensity from there. Have slumber parties, for sure. But think twice before your move her in.

And never, ever move in to her place. Her furniture and decorations will already be in place. You will be second place to her stuff. You will literally be moving into a “man cave” from the word go. You will be the one out on your ass if the relationship implodes. You’ll be the one figuring out where you are going to sleep the night it ends. You’ll be the one having to pack your shit up and move on a cold winter day.

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You Dodged A Bullet

ammunition brass bullets cartridges

It’s been a little over a month since my ex-girlfriend moved out. I’ll be completely honest, I miss her terribly sometimes. I miss what we could have had, and what we did have. I miss her company. I miss seeing her smiling face and hearing her laugh. I miss her body. I miss having her lying next to me in bed at night and waking up to see her in the morning.

Maybe I have a small touch of Oneitis. I wouldn’t doubt that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any delusions that she was ever my “soulmate.” I don’t have the scarcity mentality that “I’ll never love again.” But every once in a while, damn, I sure do miss her.

She was the youngest, most fit, and most attractive woman that I’ve had so far in my life. She put the past women to shame. There will be other women, I know this. But at this moment that I’m typing this, it doesn’t seem like it. It doesn’t seem like there will be another “younger, hotter, tighter.” There will be, I know it. It just doesn’t seem like that right now. I’ll get there though.

Here’s something I did think about though:

Maybe I dodged a bullet. You see, my ex-gf snowballed me when we broke up. I really had no idea that it was coming. Maybe us breaking up was a good thing.

A couple of months before we broke up, we had talked about a future where there would have been marriage and most likely some children. I’m old enough at this point that I was good with the idea that I would never be a father, but then we talked about it, seriously. I realized that not only was the idea okay, it actually appealed to me. I got excited about the idea of being a father. I got excited about the idea of raising children and being called “Dad.”

Now that’s not going to happen. At least not with her anyways. Perhaps it won’t happen at all. I don’t know how I feel about that.

Maybe I dodged a bullet because we could have gotten married and had children and she could have snowballed me then, and either left me raising children by myself, or even worse, she could have gotten custody of my children and then I’m left doing what a lot of Men are doing these days: Working themselves into an early grave to provide for their children that they don’t get to see as often as they would like to. Having another man raising and/or influencing their children in ways that may not be how he, as the father, would want his children raised. Paying alimony.

I could sit here and lament the relationship that ended. I could lament how it didn’t work out the way that I had hoped it would. I could pine over her. I could torture myself in a thousand different ways by playing the “coulda, woulda, shoulda” game. I could go over all of this for the millionth time in my head and try to wrap myself around it. And still come up short on answers that satisfy me.

Or I could look at it as I dodged a bullet. Better now that all of the things that happened, happened. Better now that they happened rather than 5 years down the road. Better they happened before we ever talked about setting a wedding date and started actually having children.

If you are a Man and you’re reading this right now, and you’re dealing with a divorce, a break up, a loss of a relationship, maybe you too, dodged a bullet.

 

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Screaming Into The Void

lighted candle
It’s Like That.

Screaming Into The Void. It’s a term I’ve come across recently. For me, it evokes an image of a person screaming into a gigantic, never-ending black nothingness. Nothing escapes the Void. Whatever goes into it never comes back out. No sound ever leaves it. Not an echo, not a murmur, not a whisper. Not even light can escape the Void. It’s a black hole.

Being on the internet and on social media specifically, is like screaming into the void. You create a blog, you start putting your thoughts and feelings out there, you start bleeding on your keyboard. You pour your soul out, you expose all your fears, insecurities, ideas, anything. Anything to be heard, anything to be seen. Anything to say, “I’m here. I’m alive. I matter.” You pour it all out. Then you hit “send,” or “publish.” And then?

Nothing.

Oh don’t get me wrong, your words, your thoughts, your pictures, your ideas are out there. You can see them on your screen, large as life. You can click an array of links and get back to your words, your essence. Yep, still there.

But still. Nothing.

And this can go on forever. It really and literally can.

It can make you lose hope. It can make you want to give up. Trust me, I get it. There’s been many times over the years that I wanted to give up, to say, “fuck it,” and go back to watching television or reading a book, or doing…. Whatever.

Maybe I’m masochistic. Maybe I’m just stubborn. Maybe I think that what I say does actually have some value, and that maybe, just maybe, some day, some time, somewhere, someone might actually penetrate the Void and find what I’ve put out there.

It does happen.

It can and does take time, but it does happen.

When I first got on to Twitter, like everyone else, I had no followers. So I followed a couple of “celebrities.” I watched the tweets, replies, etc. I’ve come to realize that most of your really, really big accounts have handlers. It’s not usually that one person doing the actual tweeting. Of course, there are always exceptions. But most of the time, it’s not the actual person that is named on the account doing the tweeting.

I then started following some of the big accounts followers. Little guys. Guys a lot like me. Guys who followed a bunch of people but had few followers themselves. I found some of their tweets added value to my day, my life. So I re-tweeted what they said. Maybe I really liked what they said. Maybe they said it better than I could have said it. Sometimes I would add my two cents in the re-tweets.

Soon, I started replying to their tweets, adding my own two cents. Most of the time, and even today when I reply to something, it usually goes into the Void. That’s okay. I’m not necessarily looking for interaction. I’m just adding my two cents. But every now and then, somebody replies to my reply and a sort of dialogue opens up. I’m no longer screaming into the Void.

So I decided to start a blog. This blog. And in the beginning, it was me screaming into the Void again. Even now, when it comes to comments on my posts, when it comes to interaction with others, I’m still screaming into the Void. That’s fine. I’m not here to get a bunch of followers and have a ton of interaction. I created my blog mostly for me to log my thoughts and my journey through my life and my experiences that I’ve gained from learning about the Red Pill.

Anyone who finds this blog, anyone who reads it, is simply going along for the ride. I’m doing the driving and the navigating, you dear Reader, are just enjoying the scenery. Hopefully you are enjoying the ride. Hopefully you are enjoying the reading. I hope you are getting something of value from what I write.

I have no idea how many people that follow my blog actually read my blog with any consistent basis. I like to think that there are a couple of people that do. I like to think that there are a few of you out there that have found my blog, you’ve penetrated the Void, and that we have some sort of common connection. Some sort of common bond or experience.

And I know I do have that. I do have that connection and bond. Comments do come in from time to time. Interactions are had. Moments are made.

In some cases, friendships have been forged. It’s truly an amazing time we live in.

I created a Youtube channel a long time ago. I set it up mostly so that I could watch what others have created. I then decided to add to my channel by putting up videos of my animals doing what they do. Those videos are still there. I’m not taking them down even if they are dumb. Those are moments that bring me joy even if you or anyone else think they are stupid. I don’t care. It’s not about you on those videos, it’s about me and my life.

I then started adding videos of motorcycle rides that I’ve done. That’s another passion of mine, motorcycle riding. I’ve seen a lot of places, met a lot of people, created a lot of memories while sitting on a motorcycle. One of my closest friends I met on a ride.

Then I started adding videos about things that I’ve talked about on this blog. Some of it is me reading my blog posts word for word. Sometimes I add things to the videos that I didn’t know or think about at the time I created the blog post. Sometimes the videos are off the cuff, me flying by the seat of my pants. Everybody has different ways of gaining knowledge. Some, like me, prefer to read the written word. I get the most “bang for my buck” by reading.

Some people gain more insight by seeing, by watching. This is the second best way for me to get something out of something.

Some people gain their insight by just listening. Welcome to audio podcasts and audio books. I like these as well. I do find that I enjoy listening to podcasts and audio books, but I tend to wander and that if I’m truly trying to learn something, it’s better for me to either read about the subject at hand, or watch something about it. Just listening, for me, is more about relaxing and entertainment value.

I then took the audio portions of my videos and turned them into bonafide podcasts. I decided if I’m going to scream into the Void, I’m going to scream into as many parts of that Great Nothing as possible. I’m going to put as much out there as I can, because maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere will find it.

I think the the term Void is misleading. It’s not really this great big black hole nothing that our words, our thoughts, our hopes, ideas, and dreams go into.

It’s more like a radio signal being broadcast into space. In some cases this is actually, literally true. If you are broadcasting something via some form of radio transmission, you are actually and literally broadcasting into space.

The point I’m trying to make is that the signal is out there. It just has to be found. It takes time. Sometimes a lot of time. But it gets found eventually. It always does. Someone, somewhere does find it. So you keep going. You keep writing. You keep doing videos. You keep tweeting. You keep doing podcasts. You keep sending the signal.

It only feels like the Void because you think it’s the Void. It’s not the Void. It’s just space. It’s just tuning the radio dial to the right frequency. It’s just tuning in. It’s just timing. Keep at it. Keep doing it. Keep going on. Keep doing you.

I’ve received all sorts of feedback via direct messages, texts, and e-mails about my videos and this blog. I’m not screaming into the Void. Not any longer. I never really was. People just tuned into the frequency that I’m transmitting on. The Void, the silence, has been broken.

While I send a decent amount of time writing my posts, tweeting my tweets, and making my videos, I also spend a good amount of time tuning my radio dial. I spend time looking for new connections and content. I too am travelling through space looking to find new experiences and learn new things. I’m tuning that dial. I’m looking for you.

Don’t stop doing what you are doing because you feel like you’re screaming into the Void. Don’t stop. I’m still trying to find you. Give me a chance to find you. Don’t give up. Not yet. You haven’t done it long enough to give up yet. I’m still looking for you.

Give me the chance to find you.

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