The story that follows was sent to me by a man I’ve known for twenty five years. A smart guy, but socially inept, he was a lesser beta, borderline omega in high school. He dropped out of college and into an extreme state of omega, effectively checking out from society. After several years of severe emotional decline, he hit some sort of bottom and decided to change. He moved back in with his parents for a short time, stabilized, then moved to the city where I live.
He wanted above all things to find some woman who would love him. Didn’t really matter who at that point: Willing Female, please respond. He started his re-socialization from pretty near the bottom; needing to relearn table manners, grooming, buy presentable clothing. This was about five years ago. It took a long time to acclimate to human society again, but his progress has been accelerating over the last two years.
One year ago, my friend met a woman. She was just under thirty, had never dated, and was probably resigning herself to being a spinster. They dated for six months, then became engaged to be married. My friend probably ranked as a lesser beta by this time. Definite case of one-itis, but I would hardly expect more under these circumstances.
Last week, the woman abruptly dumped my friend. We spoke briefly about it. I gave spine-stiffening advice that I did not expect him to take.
But yesterday he sent me this email. I am relieved and proud of him, and I think you will be, too.
Say you met a woman. Someone special. You dated for over a year. She lives in another city, and you drove there to see her. You proposed. She said yes. You bought her the stone she wanted and put it in the ring she wanted. You planned the wedding and the honeymoon she wanted. You went to pre-marital counseling with your preacher. You looked for a house. You registered for kitchen and bedroom things. You accepted gifts at wedding showers.
A month before the wedding you quit your job and left your home and friends to go live and work in the same town as Her. You start your new job, and it’s a big change, but it’s all worth it because you actually get to eat lunch and dinner every day with the woman you love, the woman you will marry.
Saturday morning, three weeks before the wedding, she calls you from your driveway. She wants you to come outside and listen to something she has to say. She dumps you. The wedding is off. The engagement is off. She doesn’t know if she ever wants to see you again. She needs time to think. Her mother is driving here from another state to pick her up and take her home. She doesn’t know if she’s coming back.
I was barefoot. The concrete was cold. At least she did it in person.
Be a pussy. Apologize. Who cares what I’m apologizing for, just apologize for everything. Quick! Write a sweet letter, buy flowers, and get them to her before she leaves. I may just have a chance at strumming that special heart string.
Being a pussy doesn’t work. It just makes things harder.
Cry a little. Just a little. Not too much now! The final verdict hasn’t been delivered. Maybe she’ll have a change of heart. Maybe if I’m really good and pray really hard I won’t have to deal with the break up, so why get emotional prematurely?
Anxiety. It’s not working! Make it work God! Make it work faster!
I’ve got a lot of energy. I feel like whacking a baseball in the batting cages. After a couple dozen pitches I’m drained, but I feel loosened up and at ease.
Even Later Sunday:
What will become of me? Our dreams were so wonderful. The times we had together were so sweet. The aquarium, canoeing, shopping, cooking, eating together! How will I ever do any of these things again? They were so much more fun with Her.
I’m sitting in my car on a deserted road in the dark. The flood gates open and I cry so powerfully that I start laughing. When you tear down beautiful dreams to make room for new ones, something terrible and wonderful happens.
The beautiful dreams came crashing down like a house of cards. The infrastructure of hope in my life, built around Her, collapsed, and in its place I found a plot of clean earth, a land of opportunity.
Apologizing for what? I was seriously planning to drive out of state to where she’s hiding out and beg for a chance to plead for her to come back. What was I thinking? She needs time to think? I should cower in fear and await judgment?
No more crying. No more apologizing. No more being a little, sniveling, wishing-She-would-please-come back, weakling crybaby.
Best day at my new job so far.
Best day in this town so far.
I can’t wait for tomorrow.
Waiting? I’m not waiting for anything.