I drove from Maria’s house Friday night excited. I cruised around, blaring Deadmau5, so very proud of myself. I went to bed a few hours after. The next morning, I felt amazing, I felt real… shit, I felt attachment. I felt wanting. I felt what I felt when a girl was into me… romance.
This is a beta pitfall. It ain’t a one night stand. It ain’t just a simple target like Seasons was. You like the girl. Your body wants this girl. It puts out the chemicals that make you ready to procreate and attach. Its what puppy love is to teens. Its what betas call “the One” or whatever nice word for it. Your brain is geared to think these thoughts. Its the natural momentum of survival.
It can kill your game. It can ruin your soul.
All Saturday I battled these thoughts. At that time, I’d seen Maria for a total of 5 hours and change. There was no conceivable or rational way to follow them. My history is a history of falling for any chick that fell for me. Attention = attachment = love. A fucking nightmare for a real relationship. A nightmare for getting laid. Hopping from heart to heart, feeling jealous or unwanted when things go wrong. This was my first great test since the change.
I spent the day putting my mind off the hormones coursing through my veins. I knew it was because this was a new girl, a girl who’s body I could have, a body I actually was attracted to. An ass I could grab and grab it all with nothing else there. Collarbones and tight skin. After organizing, cleaning, writing, reading and watching TV, I went with the relatives out to a local baseball game. I wrangled tiny kids, caught a runaway toddler and still dealt with the caveman. It wasn’t fun. I had little sleep, but great energy. After we got back to the house, I had to go out. To the Sire to unwind.
Maria texts me half an hour after I get there, after my playlist begins on the jukebox.
Hey you. Whatchya doin?
Quickly, I responded: At the Sire. Care to join? Dammit. Too quick. No, wait, I already got in the kiss. The physical. Not a habit I need to justify, but it wouldn’t hurt me as bad as pre-kiss.
Yes I would :) give me 20 minutes at most. :) lol
I don’t respond until the 20 minutes have past. In those 20 minutes my beta freaks about her not showing up. I go to the pisser twice. I listen for the door to open. Fuck. Its like my first date ever all over again. All nerve and no balls. I send: Hurry up! You’re missing MeatLoaf. The final song on the playlist I put in the music box.
On my way!
She shows about five minutes later. I’m on the patio with my third drink, the slight buzz going. I spot her a smoke. The hot MILF waitress asks her for a drink. She says she can’t decide. I say we should do odds and evens. After several false starts, I introduce her to the game. I was mixed drink, she was beer. I win, but she still wants beer anyway.
“You’re breaking the rules.”
“But I want a beer. I’ve been drinking mixed for a while.”
“I’ll allow it.”
We talk about what we did today. She babysat. I wrangled. We talk about the music on the speakers. We talk about other things. She tells me her Flyer fan best friend gave her shit about me. I say its deserved. I showcase my wit. She laughs hard often. She also yawns a lot. Soon, she offers to go back to her place. Plenty of alcohol left from the house warming party the night before. I agree, of course. We share my last smoke.
“I still have like 20 Jello shots left.”
“I think this time I’ll be staying over.”
We stop by 7-11 so she can grab a pack of smokes which at the last second I buy for her along with my Red Bull, then we pull in front of her place. Inside, I sit on the couch as she pulls out food and shots. She chugs half of my Red Bull. Here I screw up again. I take a while to move closer as we watch a movie. The old pauses and anxiety fucking me up. The hormones breaking my stride, but I psych up and we’re close. Soon after I pull her legs on my lap and we make out for a bit, then back to the movie. A little later, a little more making out, moving down her neck, then back to the movie. I kiss her back, her shoulder, rub her legs and thighs. Her breathing seems stable. Normal. Following a beat.
She was out. Asleep.
I sit there for a while, my arm wrapped around her. I pull my arm out, she’s still in dreamland. During a loud part of the film, she wakes.
“Should we put you to bed?” I ask. She agrees. She then says I’d be sleeping on the couch since her room was “disgusting”. She goes into her room to grab something, when she comes out I tell her I’m not judgmental about it. She still puts off the idea. I say I’m fine to go home. Sleeping on the couch would be bad positioning. It’ll be her bed or mine for me. We go out for one last smoke, she offering me one of her’s. She apologizes profusely for falling asleep. I let her off the hook, rubbing her back, getting a tiny moan of appreciation. She still apologizes. We stand up and say goodbye, we hug, we make out. I grab her ass, kissing deep, kissing her neck. She kisses my neck and says goodbye. Sunday night will be karaoke.
I get back in my car and struggle to find the song I want. I feel like I totally fucked up. No! Its the beta talking. Its the lack of self confidence rearing its head from the concentration camp I locked it inside of. Its years of being shit on, dealing with the worst parts of women and accepting it as a “good” husband and a “good” guy. NO! NO! NO! I will not relent to its irrationality. I will not fall for the trap.
As I write this, I can feel the pressure lift. The second guessing dissipating. The anxiety leaving. The worst part about being a new person is that the old person has never left, its just hiding, waiting. I need to be able to let go of the old feelings and worry. I need to meditate. Psych up before, not during. Maria will be the first of many and I can’t be as lucky with my frame as I was with her. I was direct and honest when we met. I swooped in and separated her from a clingy beta friend. Savior game. Saturday night, I wobbled between forward and hesitant. Between sexual and uncertain. The initial frame keeps me alive, as well as her overall attraction to me, but it can’t rely on it. I need to be as flawless as I can. I can’t let the beta inside dictate to me anymore. Otherwise I’ll go back to my old routine. Internet, hopping from infatuation to infatuation, spiraling back down to falling in love with the slightest show of interest. A horrible life.
I am the alpha. Only the alpha. I fear nothing. Not failure, not myself. I am the alpha. Only the alpha.