When I was young, a simple meeting with a cute girl would fill my head with romantic notions. Back then I really liked the beach, so I’d imagine long walks with her while holding hands. There would be passionate kissing on the sand followed by gentle lovemaking with slow, purposeful thrusts. Another fantasy would be something simple like going to the movies, our hands interlocked, her head leaning against a shoulder which had yet to see the inside of a gym.
These fantasies diminished after I started getting laid. After all, it doesn’t make much sense to imagine a romantic walk when your penis has already walked through her vagina. Instead, I’d imagine more fucking in scenes inspired mostly by porn, with all the nasty things we’ve yet to do.
More time went on and even those fantasies diminished. I began simply replaying sex scenes I already had with her, as if I was reviewing a tape. There was nothing new to these fantasies—they were simple memories that flashed before me when my brain wanted to think about sex.
I didn’t mind the change from romantic fantasizing to replaying sexual memories because the former caused me to put girls on a pedestal. This is especially damaging to your game if you’ve yet to have sex with the girl you’re fantasizing about, because through ensuing actions directed by your subconscious, she will sense that you value her more than she values you.
Recently I was walking through the park when I spotted a girl watching a chess match. This immediately caught my eye and I intersected her to start a conversation. She had a personality type and appearance that I’ve received much pleasure from in the past. She was on her way to meet her boyfriend but I weaseled her number and then a date that ended with only cheek kisses. She was as close to my ideal girl as you can get.
When I went to bed on the night of our date, I made the decision to fantasize about her, for old time’s sake. I wanted to put her on a pedestal. I wanted to care and feel emotional desire. I tried to resurrect my beach fantasy, but it played only for a few seconds. I couldn’t even start a movie date fantasy. I then tried to imagine making love to her, but my brain refused to construct anything, and I began to feel silly. I stopped trying.
Different types of thoughts came into my head instead. What is the percent chance she will cheat on her man? What did her answers to my personal questions signify? What type of date should I try for next? What is her favorite type of liquor? What excuse should I use when she declines the first invitation to come to my apartment? Instead of treating her as a dream girl, my mind saw her as a widget in a factory assembly line, dutifully reminding me of the steps needed to box her up.
I wondered if I should celebrate or regret the fact that I can no longer think of a girl in emotional terms before sex. I could renounce the game and all my bangs but it still wouldn’t bring back the old me. At the same time experience gives you a new ability, it also takes one away, and what you lose you may never get back. I certainly prefer my current self to the one of old, but I wish twelve years ago I had someone to talk to who had already lived the choice that I was about to make.
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