It might come true. Long live the King of Mercy. – Wasp

What was originally going to be a one shot post has turned into a 3 part series, and this is part 3. Part 2 is here.

I mentioned doing “Asshole Game” but dialed up to 11 in part 2. It’s this particular “thing” I want to discuss today. I mentioned in the title, “Be careful what you wish for…It might come true,” and here we are. Running “Asshole Game” isn’t hard for me. Asshole Game is being somewhat indifferent to the outcome when it comes to what happens with women and being somewhat a jerk, standoffish, etc. For me, “dialing it up to 11” is getting acidic and downright mean.

The problem for me with my “lonely bitter Jew” is that while she responds, and is still responding beautifully to my “Asshole Game,” I legitimately do not care. Somewhere the “switch” of caring for me, got flipped into the “off” position. I have gone from caring to one degree or another, to being completely indifferent.

I say and do shit with her simply to see what the outcome will be. I’m checking off boxes on my list of questions. It’s the “inner scientist” in me. I’m simply seeing what will happen but I’m completely indifferent to what happens. I don’t care.

And I don’t like looking in the mirror and seeing what I see.

This is the “Dark Side” of running this type of Game. This is what can happen if you want to be a “machine.” Guys, be careful what you wish for, it might come true. This girl, I’ll call her “Amanda,” wants an Asshole. It’s what she responds to. She’s getting it. This asshole doesn’t care. And I don’t like not caring. I feel like I’m losing a little piece of my humanity. Add my “inner sadist” into the equation and it’s complex. But that’s another story for another time possibly.

I have had my “switch” flipped a few times in my life. One of the more recent times was when the switch got flipped and I got divorced. I loved my ex-wife until I didn’t. One of the last women that I was with, it was the same way. Same now with “Amanda.” I wanted so much to care, to invest to a certain degree even, now? Nothing. The “switch” has been flipped to “off.” And I’m finding that I’m far more capable of cruelty than I thought I was. I don’t like it. I don’t like what I’m seeing and what I could possibly become.

Say what you will, but I don’t want to be a machine. I don’t want to think about what the depths of my cruelty and depravity can be. I’m waxing poetic about my own angst, fucking sue me.

Plot twist:

I had some of this discussion with BullRush after the latest Let ‘Em Burn. I was waxing poetically about my angst of possibly becoming a monster. He was the one that reminded me of what I had forgotten, and it was written by me, nonetheless. “Find one or two things about her that you find attractive.” The student has become the teacher.

Even I forget. Even I get lost. Even I can lose touch. Thank you BullRush. I was staring into an abyss of cruelty for the sake of cruelty and results. You pulled me back, by throwing my own words at me nonetheless. Thank you.

My biggest “angst” was the fact that the “switch” had been flipped to “off,” and I didn’t want it to be in that position. I would rather have it “on.” I want to enjoy the interaction, I want to enjoy her company. I want to enjoy it all. I’m not just looking for results. I don’t want to be a scientist watching a rat running a maze. I want to immerse myself in the moment, in the interaction. So I found one or two things about “Amanda” that I find attractive and “just like that,” the switch got thrown back into the “on” position. I see her humanity again. I see her.

I’m still running “Asshole Game” on her, make no mistake. It’s what she wants and what she ultimately responds to, but I care now about what I’m saying and doing. I’m “invested” to a certain degree and I can dial it back and still be able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning when I wake up.

Long live the King of Mercy.