Guys, after the reset and all that mess on Monday…
Three of you texted me.
Yeah, yeah… imagine that — all three of them didn’t panic like idiots and actually texted me.
And the messages were almost identical.
Which means the whole field is thinking the same way.
Thinking out loud — with each one’s logic on full display.
Him:I have to show up fully prepared—ready, perfect, composed, with flowers, a Black Mamba…
and two estates. One permanent, one for the summer.
Me:This damn idiot could just text me without being perfect.
Texting me doesn’t mean I’m gonna hit him with a hundred questions and go,
“what, you showed up like this? what a weak loser.”
Him:It’s embarrassing, I can’t. She’ll see me as weak and worthless.
She won’t love me like that.
Me:This idiot is clearly traumatized. Total contradiction in one loop.
His energy is split, scattered—no focus, so the signal gets lost.
Conflict:
“I want to be loved as I am.”
“I can’t show who I really am because she’ll never love me like that.”
Him:I have to try and become worthy of her… but that will take time.
Time is passing, it’s pressing on me.
The more I work on myself, the darker the forest gets.
I don’t know when I’ll get out.
Me:Idiot.
Him:I have to try, I have to—
I need to get to her as soon as possible.
I’m terrified she’ll leave… that someone will take her away.
I love her so much.
Me:Idiot.
Him:My hands are shaking. I’m scared—terrified of losing her.
What am I going to do without her?
Me:Sitting there, picking at my manicure, thinking—
why the hell do I write so many posts about just hearing a woman…
if he’s not even doing that?
What are the chances he’ll actually see and hear me?
Him:What do I do, what do I do…
I can’t lose her, I can’t.
Me:Shaking my head.
How else do I explain that I just need him to be there?
He can go through all his transformations, fine…
but we can at least talk.
Him:Barely sleeping, completely on edge.
What do I do, what do I do… without her I’ll die.
And he’s crying.
Me:Finished my manicure, heading to a massage, then picking up my son.
Deep breath, Nazokat…
One day he’ll understand that you’re giving him actual, concrete actions.
That you’ve already shown him the way… one day…
Him:I’m gone…
And he’s crying and crying and crying.
ResultAlpha:Me, me, me, me, me.
Me:When is this idiot going to realize I need his support
and stop thinking only about himself?
P.S.Considering the fact that I’m basically guiding his entire transformation alongside his therapists—I’m heavily invested—
I think it’s fair to expect him not to be so self-centered.
And, you know… it’s kind of normal when someone pauses and thinks,
“Wait… how is she doing?”
instead of sitting there crying,
“poor me, I’m miserable.”
Idiot.
Idiot.
Idiooooot.
So yeah, that’s the conversation, guys.
Almost a dialogue.
For those of you with slightly atrophied brains—
read the parts where
I’m speaking, not him.
Maybe then we’ll shift focus away from the narcissist
and actually think about what his woman wants.
Because in the end, that’s what all of this is about.
Break time.Thank God.Boobs.https://ru.pinterest.com/pin/978477456569096946/Yeah, yeah… not the best view, I know. But this one?https://ru.pinterest.com/pin/281543726729625/ You get it.https://ru.pinterest.com/pin/633387444394416/Alright, let’s keep going.Guysssss… go jerk off later.Guys, and look—if this were just one situation, fine.
But this kind of crap is everywhere in relationships.
Me: I’m asking for one simple thing.
Message:“Baby, I’m here. You’re not alone. I love you—but I need time.”
Here’s how
my brain processes it:
He showed up.
Which means I’m not alone.
If I break down, I can text him—and he’ll be there, he’ll respond, he’ll support me.
So what does that mean again?
Exactly.
I’m not alone.
Not completely alone.
He acknowledged his feelings.
Good—now I understand his intentions. He loves me. That matters to him.
Time.
He made it clear he’s not ready right now—but he’s moving, doing the work, and he’ll stay in touch as he goes.
That gives me something real to stand on—facts.
And facts stop you from spiraling.
It lets me build a future that includes him.
Because he showed up.
And overall… it just feels calmer.
That’s my logic.
Now
his logic:
“I’ll handle everything on my own. I’ll become a winner, and then I’ll come to you, my love…
in, like, 500 years.
You’re fine with that, right?
And in the meantime—figure it out yourself.
I won’t even support you with words.
I’ve got my own stuff to deal with. Poor me, poor me…
Yeah, I love you, sure—but let’s focus on me, me, me.
Because I’m just so miserable.”
Idiot.
Honestly, it’s not cool.
And if you go deeper—if he plays this scenario out,
he ends up right back where he started.
He gets a woman who can only love him when he’s strong.
Only when he’s winning.
Only when he’s on top.
I don’t know about you, guys…
but that doesn’t sound like love.
That’s a role.
“I play a role.”
For you, I’m always the strongest, the best.
But what happens when the alpha stumbles?
Funny how that’s exactly where alphas break, isn’t it?
The alpha is exhausted—because he carries everything alone.
And there’s always that paralyzing fear:
“If I fall… will anyone catch me?”
You know that moment in interviews—
“Sir, if you didn’t have your money, would your wife stay?”
He always pauses.
Because that’s terrifying.
He’s not sure she needs him as a person.
With money, resources, status—no doubt.
But without all that?
When he’s bleeding…
when he’s crying…
when he’s broken…
when he’s ashamed of himself…
when he’s fallen so low he despises himself…
Hmm? Guys?
To find a woman like that, you have to test it right away:
Does she love you like this?
Or only when you’re on top?
Look, I know there are guys who talk a lot and do nothing.
But I doubt that’s you.
You built yourselves.
You survived.
You work—and you work hard.
So no, you’re not talkers.
Which means—you have every reason to be loved.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not empty.
You just fell.
And right now—you need support.
But here’s the question:
Will you even allow it?
Did you let her close enough—
the one who would love you even when you’re down?
And here we enter the core wound.
The bleeding one:
“I’m not worthy of love.”
Here’s the harsh truth, guys:
Deep down, there’s a very clear belief—
an alpha is convinced that no one will love him as he truly is.
The façade? Yes.
The image? Yes.
But him?
Exactly as he is?
No.
That doesn’t exist in his world.
She loves him for something.
She has a checklist.
She’s playing a role.
She’s lying.
She—
she—
she—
This can’t be real.
Everyone always wants something from him.
“Don’t fall for it,” he tells himself.
“It’s just her feminine tricks.
Don’t believe her.”
Guys… what if it
is real?
What if she loves him just because—
because he’s brave,
because he’s kind,
because he’s incredibly attractive,
because he makes her laugh,
because he’s just… him.
Hmm?
What if that exists?
Yes, she’s happy they have a charged-up BMW and an apartment the size of a golf course.
But she would love him—and does love him—even without all that.
You see, guys—of course she loves him as a winner.
He’s strong, he’s impressive—that’s obvious.
And no, you can’t say she doesn’t love the money or the power.
But that’s not separate from him. That
is him.
Because everything he built shaped his character.
Strength became part of who he is.
Of course she loves that.
But that’s not all.
The problem starts
when she loves him only for what he provides.
So…
once again—
What if she really does love him?
Hmm?
And then, guys, a damn interesting picture starts to form.
The one who was terrified of her—
the outsider, the witch, the woman who sees right through him.
He was so afraid she’d see through him.
That she’d expose him.
That she’d see what he’s hiding.
That she’d look under the armor
and find a boy—terrified of making a mistake.
That’s what he fears most—being exposed.
But now…
that becomes the most desirable thing there is.
Because if a woman like that loves him—
then she’s seen him.
Completely.
Soul laid bare.
And she accepted him.
Awkward.
Shy.
Blushing.
Lost at times.
Sometimes weak.
And scared—truly scared.
And there she stands, looking at him—
almost like she’s choosing something in a store,
and saying she’s okay with all of it.
She takes him as he is.
Yes—
she saw the flaws.
Yes—
she saw the weaknesses.
Yes—
she saw all of it.
And she still chose him.
How does that feel, guys?
Not spending your whole life wondering if she’ll leave—
but knowing.
Having that certainty.
She won’t.
She knows.
And it’s still her choice.
She chose him as he is.
And she loves him that way too.
P.S. I cooled off. Nate and Caleb—access restored.
