TYO: Frustrated Monster, 5 Dates and +0

I’m a frustrated monster tonight. I am posting this story, for three reasons: 1.) There are a lot of personal details and “date notes” here that guys might find interesting. 2.) I like to share my “low points,” as a service to other guys. I am having a hysterical time here in Tokyo, but this isn’t all “great stories.” It’s a ton of work and ups/downs. And as for 3.) I am open to ideas about what to do in a situation like this… I don’t think I’m playing my “A” game right now.

No sex in five dates is frustrating. But that’s not the “low point.” The low point here is me not playing “A” level game, even if the cards don’t always fall in my favor. Good men will get tested. I want to be the best man I can be. Period. I want that in general. And when I do that… a high quality sex life should be easy.

Here is the story about how I have dated a girl five times… and haven’t fucked her yet. And what that has been like for a man at my level of game.


Let’s call this girl Miss Athlete.

The girl known as “Miss Athlete” has mostly been a great part of this trip. As I got ready for our 5th date tonight, I was more than aware that I hadn’t fucked her. But I was happy to see her again tonight, even though I was pretty certain I wouldn’t get laid tonight either. It would be at least another date before I’d get her panties off. This is overdue versus the timeline of most “normal seductions.” I get that.

And at this point, I think this girl might derail the whole affair… and another womb will get away. And that is stupid on her part. But it is the nature of wombs to be squirmy about getting fucked. This won’t be the last time I see a girl wiggling around as things progress toward the sexual threshold.

I want to know what I can learn from this seduction. I haven’t done a “bad job” here, I’m not embarrassed. But I hope I can play my cards better next time.


I met her many weeks ago. She walked into Starbucks and all my internal alarms went off. She is mid-30s. That puts her outside of the “younger” part of YHT (even if she is still 10 years younger than me).

YHT is a very good standard. It’s still what I aim for, for certain. But in the final analysis, my cock doesn’t not care about that standard. Not at all.

My cock (aka “My CEO”) is either “into the deal” or “he is not.” In the end, it’s a mysterious girl-specific decision. And the decision my cock makes seem only vaguely related to input from my eyes or to a cold analysis of what I am “supposed to like.”

My cock is a very independent thinker.

I like feminine girls, always. And Asian girls, yes. But which feminine Asian girl, and why… lots of mysteries. Lots of surprises at the level of my deeper sexual appreciation of women.

In this case, my cock is 100% into this girl. And so is the rest of me… she’s great. And it’s been a few weeks since I first met her, but I still remember those first moments:

The day I saw her in Starbucks, I stared her down so hard that she felt it from across the room… and she looked up immediately. And made sincere eye contact. And looked away. And then looked back. And I was burning my intent into her by then. And she look away again. And then back once more… a triple-take. With a little smile. She was demure. And charming. But sexier than that.

Maybe she was ovulating… it was fucking on. I wanted her. It almost made me nervous the way we hooked on each other.

I had to run off for another date… but before I left, I walked over to her. After all that eye contact, it was a “very warm” open with this girl. I gave her a sticker, number closed her, and I walked off to date another girl.


DATE ONE. It was the very next day that we had our first day. There was a very real and unusually heavy snowstorm in Tokyo that night. I had made a reservation for the two of us at a great restaurant I go to very often. As we arrive the sign on the door said “closed,” but I assumed it was a mistake. It wasn’t. They were closed. But… they had one cook and two staffers stick around that night… ONLY to honor my reservation. They stayed open, only for me and my date.

It was unbelievable. We had dinner, just the two of us in an otherwise completely empty restaurant… as the snow silently pounded into the city outside. It was very much like a sappy 1980s movie plotline… where some AFC kid has his friend keep the restaurant open late to impress some girl. I have very good rapport with the young manager there, and I assume that was part of why they choose to stay open for us.

An unforgettable date… right there.

And dinner was delicious. And it was a very good date, by my standards. Her English isn’t perfect, but we sat side by side, and communication was solid. I touched her a lot. She warmed up. It was blustery outside when we left.

She had to work early the next day, so I hugged her, kissed her check, and sent her into the subway tunnels to find her way home. I walked home in the snow. Not a super eventful date, but a very good one. It was my forth date of the trip, at the time.


I got to know a little bit more about her on that first date…

Miss Athlete was once a prominent National champion in an Olympic sport here in Japan. She was “#1” in the country. After that, she was a coach for many years. Now she teaches and gives classes at a studio. This is an extraordinary backstory, but for me, it also helps explain why she has an amazing body.

It was her shape and her walk and perhaps more than that… that first grabbed my attention in Starbucks. Krauser might say she has a face like a chipmunk, which is true… but she has a phenomenal figure. And she dresses in tight jeans, with low-cut t-shirts, so her form is always on my mind.

She has a short haircut. Longer than mine, but not by much. Her ears are pierced a few times each. She has generous splashes of freckles across both her rosy cheeks. Slightly tropical features, a broader nose, and truly fantastic lips. Shiny black eyes. She is sweet and warm. A full-flavored “girl next store” vibe, but with a high-performance body.

We talked at dinner about masculine and feminine characteristics (something I always talk about). I wasn’t sure then where she fit on the spectrum. Her exterior isn’t all “pink and ribbons”… but she does wear a lot of color. The short hair is part of the story. She never wears skirts or dresses, always jeans, or shorts in the summer. External clues aren’t as important as a girls “internal energy,” so I kept looking…

I have since come to know that she is a very feminine girl (extremely so), with an athletic background and a tom-boy exterior (that is why her feminine core isn’t completely obvious). Athletes can be hard to compare to other “types” of women. The Tokyo Queen (a former GF of mine), was a champion swimmer… and I see some similar characteristics in this one.

Mist Athlete’s fashion is “urban” and hip… I have accused her of looking like a professional backup dancer. That’s about a perfect way to describe her look. She would look completely natural in the background of a music video. That gives her body context. She is an exceptional mix of “Asian soft” with “six hours of exercise per day.” If you can imagine that combination… that is her.

When I would ask her sexual questions, she would say, “secret, secret” and giggle. She is not racy or bold… in fact, and I wouldn’t have said this at the time… she is quite shy.

As I talked to her about the way I picked her up, she said it was the first time that had happened to her. When I referenced the “chemistry” between us the day we met (and it was crackling), she claimed not to know what I was talking about… and giggled. Said she hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time.

And that story works for me, against the background of what I know about her job. Teaching women’s classes could put a dent in her dating, as her day to day contacts are all girls. This is like how many teachers (while feminine and lovely) have trouble finding dates… no men in their day to day… just kids, other teachers (mostly women), and moms.

Daygame, by the way… gives us rare access to ^ these girls.


DATE TWO. I booked her later that week and took her to one of my favorite places in Shibuya. We met up, she gave me a hug and little kiss on the cheek, which surprised me.

Dinner was great, although she was a little shy. I was tempted to think she wasn’t that into me or the date, but that read didn’t quite fit. She was a little reserved. At this point, I think that she also kind of liked me, and might have been feeling some pressure from that as well.

We sat next to each other. She doesn’t drink at all. I had a whiskey. The food was amazing. We sat side-by-side, our feet in a cut away section below the floor, at the counter, watching the cooks. I pawed her constantly… slipping my fingers up into the roots of her short, thick, black hair.

As we climbed the stairs back up to the street from the restaurant (it’s in the basement), I tried to kiss her. She laughed and pushed me away. I smiled, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her along up to the street.

After dinner I suggested taking her home to my place. She laughed and said no. She called me “abunai.” No, no, no, no, no and no. I teased her mercilessly. Giving her playful little shoves (the literal “push”) as we walked. I offered desert at another restaurant. The second restaurant… a little closer to my house.

We sat together… and she was visibly nervous. She arranged her limbs such that she had both “high-” and “low-guard” across her body… both her arms across her chest… and her legs crossed as well. That’s a tight defense.

I teased her about it. She would relax a bit, and then look tense again. She was having a good time, but this was a “high stakes” night for her, even if it was very casual for me. I wasn’t being aggressive… most of the pressure she felt was internal.

At this spot we began the metaphor of me as a “dangerous monster” and her as the “beautiful princess.” I do a version of this with almost every girl I date. I am a wolf. I am a vampire. I am a beast. She… is always adorable and vulnerable and pretty. Hot role play. And a way to lead both of us into enhanced masculine and feminine roles. Almost every girl I date calls me “dangerous wolf” or “big monster” or “mean beast”… and it’s a great part of my game, I’m convinced.

Of course I invited her home… her eyes popped and she said “next time, next time.”

I walked her back to her train. Tried to kiss her a few more times. She laughed and chastised me. It was light and flirty.

I was really surprised at how nervous she was after dinner… but I liked her. She is a grown woman, but acts, exactly like the young 20-something virgin girls I am so good at finding. It was two dates, and no kiss, but I was doing my job escalating and signaling the man/woman thing… and I had a great time with her.

She is a good girl. I was looking forward to the next date.


DATE THREE. After she was so “tight” on date two, I worked on a plan to reduce the nervousness in this girl. And I know this is date three, so… you know… there is “THE OLD RULE“… time to move things along.

I told her I wanted her on her day off. And to make sure she didn’t make any plans for later that day (girls do that sometimes, and fuck up the logistics for the latter half of the date). And I had her meet me in my neighborhood (which is killer). And took her to a great lunch. Then, I took her on a “little adventure” to the modern art museum (something I wanted to do). All the bouncing around, and taking trains, and finding our way together… sounded like a great way to ground the relationship. I was trying to dampen the “monster” vibe by doing something in the daylight. I wanted us to bond a bit… and all of that worked. We had a great day together. It was a good plan.

And mid-date, I pushed into an elevator and kissed her. And her lips were soft. Her mouth was wet. The kiss landed perfect. It was hot. She is a juicy and delicious girl.

I was planning on taking her to dinner, but I had set up the plan such that we had two-three hours to kill before it was time to eat, so… back to my place. She gave me a look but walked to my apartment with nothing more than very light, token resistance.

The plan was smooth…

Into my place. Kissed her. Made tea. Moved her to the bed (with her saying, “no, no!” the whole time). Then a two hour makeout.

It was excellent. Couldn’t get her shirt off. But I did unhook her bra and ran my hands all over her. And managed to get a nipple up out of v-neck of her shirt and into my mouth. I even got my cock out… per Mr Rivelino’s recommendation. I never do that, but it went over well. I had her softly purring many times as I turned up the sex. There is passion in this girl. She is responsive. It was hot.

But she wasn’t going to go further than that. I have learned my lesson from Yohami that I am to be focused on arousal, not “pushing against resistance.” That is excellent advice, and cleans up a lot in my game when I keep it mind. It’s a fantastic mindset.

So I aroused the hell out of both of us. And I’m very sure she was soaking wet. She responds very well to deep eye contact. I taught her, quickly and easily, how I like to be kissed. She spent 90% of the time telling me “finished, finished!” and saying that she was going to go home… but she laughed… and she was seriously turned on in between telling me “no, no” and to “stop, stop.” This was all flirty resistance. I never pushed too hard. It was playful and hot.

But she is most definitely another one of those girls that will constantly tell you “no” even as you turn her on. This is her way.

And we went to dinner. And I walked her to the train and she was gone. No sex, but a great date. I was horny… but happy.


DATE FOUR. Had her come over again, on her day off. Her work schedule is irregular, but I got her out again quickly. This felt like it was to be the sex date (I thought).

I had laid all the groundwork for a girl like her… A very strong pickup. A couple of good dates, with sexual intent, to set the frame. We had the comfort date to the museum… and then a hot makeout. She had been in my place (and she was impressed) and in my bed.

It was time.

My plan was to bounce to a couple of quick spots before I took her to my place. We would go to my favorite cookie store. Then… to a kickass tea shop for a warm beverage. I wanted a stop or two before I took her home… so it didn’t feel overly “teenage-horny.” So we could rig a little comfort into the mix before we ended up in my apartment. This was my plan.

But… you know, a rough read of a woman’s “cycle” will tell you have a one-in-five to one-in-six chance of catching a girl on her period on any given day. And it occurred to me that if the Day Game Gods wanted to make this more difficult for me… they would take our second long date and throw that challenge at me. And as soon as I saw her face on this date, I knew I had guessed right. She was a little stiff. Slightly pained look on her face. I didn’t ask, but I knew…

We went through my date spots and I took her home.

At my place, music. I fed her tiny, Japanese strawberries. I made her stand up and led her to my bed. She protested. I told her over and over that she was okay, as I softly dragged her along. She yielded. She was still stiff, but had relaxed slightly. In bed I asked… and yeah, she confirmed… day two of her period.

We made out again… and she loosened up… and despite the “curse,” it was a very good time. Got her shirt off (wasn’t easy) and had her topless. Her body is wonderful. Her skin is super soft. Great tits, big dark nipples. We napped, falling asleep accidentally, for about an hour… her, “little spoon,” curled up against my chest, my right arm between her boobs, and my fingers loosely across her throat.

When we woke up… back to making out. My cock was out again. She wouldn’t put it in her mouth, but I tried that as well.

The sleep had done what actual sleep almost always does for a couple… it bonded us. We felt close. Our post nap makeout was heavy and beautiful. Very romantic. I called her my “lover”… I told her it was weird I hadn’t fucked her yet (I said “fuck,” I do that on purpose, with every girl), but… we were clearly lovers. She smiled. Part of that was setting the frame… part of it was real.

It was time for dinner, eventually. And all her stiffness was gone. Dinner was incredible… I had a reservation in one of the coolest places I’ve ever been, a lounge-y spot, with perfect food, and a huge corner booth for us to share… I touched her all through dinner… running a finger along the space between her jeans and the bottom of her t-shirt… tracing that soft skin above her hip.

Once more… to the train. Another great kiss at the stairs… and she was gone.


She texts me just about every day. Some lovely little texts. This would be strong signs of the beginning of a very dear little LTR… if I wasn’t leaving in a few weeks. She sent this:

Her behavior here was heart-breakingly attractive for me. She is not a “fast sex” girl. That is clear. But I find the way she is to be deeply charming.

“So they stop it, stop it, and they get to showcase themselves, over three nights, for example, until the guy says ‘Wow, this is a quality person I want to spend time with.’ And then they’ll give sex up, once they’ve shown you who they are.”
— Janka

There’s part of that quote I featured in my last post. I’m not sure how much of this is nervousness on her part… and how much is conscious pacing. But she seems to be more of “this” kind of girl.

No sex on date #4 either… but I assumed that transition was very close.

Later that night, after date #4:

HER: Sweet dream and have a nice night
HER: Good night.
HER: Gentle monster Nash

Adorable. I’m a horny bad man. But this stuff makes me love her. She needs to get naked. But this is A+ game from her for my taste. This… plus dirty sex… and I’m in love.


I rolled off for two days. And then one morning I sent this:

NASH: Beautiful girl…
NASH: When are you free?
NASH: Come touch me.

After she finished work she sent this response:

HER: Hello Nash
HER: I am free the afternoon of 19th
HER: Monday

That is cool and all… but it was the fucking 9th of FEB. So, she was proposing a date for 10 days out. WTF? She is gooey-sweet to me. I am a explicitly sexual beast to her. It’s on… and now… a 10-day wait???

NASH: Hi Pretty Girl
NASH: 19th?!!!
NASH: Too long.
NASH: I need to see you sooner.
NASH: Dinner on Saturday?
NASH: Or Sunday night?
HER: I hope 11th dinner.
HER: But I work finish 20o’clock
NASH: The monster wants to see you
HER: really? : ) ?!
HER: Will you have dinner on the 11th?
NASH: Yes… dinner… Sunday.

That was still a week after our last time in bed… and it was putting a damper on our sexual escalation… but it was better than “the 19th.”

We talked on the phone that night… I wanted to get her properly wrangled… and she was sweet and wonderful, but made it clear:

HER: I have work early on Monday, so only dinner.


I do think some of this is “womb management.” She is trying to derail the train so she “doesn’t end up pregnant,” even though the world’s best condoms will make that kind of “birth control” unnecessary.

Girls are chaos. Men are order. Maybe this is her trying to add chaos to my seduction. Maybe this is her… being a girl.

She likes me. It’s clear. And yet… she is still fucking it up. I got it somewhat back on track… but even then, it was “dinner only,” and my time in Tokyo is slipping away. Not only for the notch, but for all the “good stuff” that can come post-first-fuck… if we get that far.

So then, another few days of precious texts from her. She is like a perfect southern belle about the whole thing. I was annoyed at the delay, but she was still charming.

Meanwhile, I was daygaming harder than ever each night. I hadn’t been dating (the Gods are cruel) so I was over-the-top dedicated to approaching and taking leads. I took 20+ leads that week.

As our Sunday dinner date approached, she is asking cute questions and making sure she knows the plan… and I say:

NASH: Hey…
NASH: Also…
NASH: Bring some clothes for Monday…
NASH: So you can spend the night with me.
NASH: Sleep over!
NASH: So fun!

And then her:

HER: I want only dinner tomorrow…
HER: Is that okay??
HER: Because I work early on Monday morning.
HER: Please.

Fuck… alright.

I tell her she should bring clothes just in case. That she may find she WANTS to sleep over. And that I’ll take her for coffee the next morning early. She can go straight to work. And then I bragged about “what a good planner I am.” And sent a cocky picture of our lord emperor Trump (for comic appeal).

This is me… a man… trying to lead. And then:

NASH: But I know you are a smart and wonderful girl
NASH: Of course, you can do as you want!

And then:

HER: I know you’re a monster : )
HER: But tomorrow
HER: Only dinner!
HER I will spend the night with you.
HER: It is the pleasure until the 19th!! :]

What is up with the 19th? That was the day before she had a day off, I knew that… so she could stay over… I get that. But the day was otherwise arbitrary. I still feel like I am missing some detail about her emphasis of that day.

And “girls don’t make ‘contracts.'” I was in no way taking the “19th” seriously as any kind of “promise of sex.” I was confused about what that day meant to her, and about what it should mean to me as I worked to make contact before then.


DATE FIVE: She messages me when she finishes work. She is on time. This was tonight.

It’s been a week since I’ve seen her. A long week. I have talked to over 150 other girls this week. I had three of four instant dates. I had a girl make a proper date, and then cancel, and then reschedule and show up (that was earlier today). And I had another great fucking date yesterday (if there is a part two, I will write it with relish).

It had been a long time… it seemed. There was a lack of familiarity as I saw her. She seemed a little withdrawn. But… she looked… even better than I remembered her. Lovely.

I had explored my neighborhood even more and found a killer place close to the station. We sat side by side. She was… a little quiet. It was a little awkward.

To be honest… all I did this week was work and game. So I had very little “new content” to share with her. Work is not seductive. And game isn’t something I can tell her about.

I started the date wrapped around her, I like I like to do… but I relaxed that… as she was a little introverted, and in that mood, she was less tempting than normal. I turned away, gave us some space. I sat calmly through the bits of silence as we ate amazing Vietnamese food.

And then… I gave her some more of what I usually bring. I touched her. I kept sliding a finger up under her arm, invading the heat of her axilla. I touched her neck. I talked into her ear. Dinner warmed up a bit.

I wanted to get logistics handled for her and I for the next date. I fished about her work schedule. She told me it changes often. Sometimes early starts, sometimes late evenings.

I then recounted her offer of “the 19th.” I clowned her about it. I pantomimed what it was like to receive that offer… “the 19th!,” I would say, and bug my eyes slightly, and then roll my eyes… “the 19th?”… and I would push her a little and turn away. And move my chair away from her. We both laughed. I mimed messaging her on an imaginary phone, and I said, “better the 24th!” She laughed. I think she got the point.

I gave her another pointed look, and told her that when she really wants to see the monster, she has to take out her phone (and I mimicked her doing that), and message me and say… “I really want to see the monster!” I was trying to train her.

I wasn’t begging. I was trying to lead.

If we “lean back” and let girls dictate the plan… the girl’s plan often goes nowhere. And that sucks for both of us. I was communicating to her that “every 10 days” wasn’t going to work (it really wasn’t). And I was leading in the best way I could summon at that moment.

I teased her one more time, and then gave her a little shove, stood up, and went to the bathroom. The whole affair was starting to feel like work. To be honest… I was getting irritated. I was wondering if this was worth it.

At the table, I was very playful… but now that I was away from her in the bathroom… the whole thing made me feel tired. She was being a pain in the ass… and rather “cool” on this date… and I knew we both wanted more than this.

Yes, I want to fuck her. Yes, a thousand times yes. And I think it is fair to say that we were both invested beyond that. I want the fucking notch, yeah. But delaying the sex was also a barrier to us moving forward in any other capacity. It was blocking the “honesty” that Steve Mayeda talked about in my last post. We couldn’t get there with “dinner only” nights together.

Maybe I could be patient with even more of this “courtship”… I like her… I do… but I am NOT patient with moving BACKWARDS. Moving backwards is a bad sign. And it was this moving backwards that was making me lose my cool.

As dinner ended, I said, “let’s go back to my house.” She said, no, only dinner tonight. I said, “one hour,” and that I would send her home in a cab. I wasn’t overly committed to a lay, but I wanted a makeout… so we didn’t move backwards. She said no, softly, and I didn’t press it. I really didn’t. Just floated the option by firmly, and then let it go.

I asked for the check, and my vibe tightened up a bit. I paid more attention to the wait staff than her for a few minutes, which is noticeably unlike me. This was my version of a “freezeout,” I suppose. A little bit of emotional consequences for her as she gave me so little on this date… and in the planning leading up to the date.

We walked out, and I said I wanted chocolate. She immediately said, “no, no, no.” She was being playful, but it irritated me. I wanted a candy bar to clear my palate… at the convenience store… which was 100 ft away and on the route to her train. She was assuming I was making another play for my house, and I was not. I told her to calm down, and I lead her in the store. My vibe got cooler and I felt her sense it. I bought 82 yen worth of chocolate … a bar for each of us.

We walked the three or four minutes to the station though the chill of the night and the brisk breeze… mostly in silence. I really didn’t have much to say to her. I wanted a beer, at that point, more than conversation. I had had enough of feminine energy. I wanted three or four beers… that’s what I wanted.

As we got to the top of the stairs to the Metro, I said, “c’mere” and I pulled her in, gave her a hug. I didn’t try to kiss her at all. She is a great kisser, but it seemed like a loser’s consolation prize and I didn’t want it. I really like the girl, but she was more work than she should have been on this date. She was all “no’s” and I was getting sick of it. That’s not charming.

And then… as I pull out of the hug… as I go to walk away and end the date… she brought a bag of very nice chocolate out of her purse and gave it to me… with some softness in her eyes.

Ahh. Uhh.

A present. Finally some “sweetness” from her on this otherwise flat date. But it was terrible timing as I was already over it.

I felt bad… she was trying to be nice… and she had pre-planned this move… and kept it as a “surprise” though dinner… but she ran terrible game on me tonight. As she tried to surprise me, it was incongruent with the stiffness of the rest of the date. The date ended weak for me and I was ready for it to be over.

I thanked her, and I took the chocolate, and put it my coat. I’m sure I had a tired look on my face. I took one of the bars we had bought at the Family Mart and put in her jacket pocket. I told her to get home safe, gave her one last, long, look in the eyes, and I walked away.

Sounds rough. I feel a little rough about it. I don’t think it was that over the top at the time.


This girl doesn’t owe me anything, and yet, I’m bitter.

She made me work way too hard tonight, given all the time we’d had to bond in this courtship. I was pretty good, playful, and light… for 95% of this date. I dug deep to bring us some fun when it was quiet. But there were too many ” no, no, no’s” in the last week. She overplayed her hand as the “pursued.”

And Yohami has taught me not to encourage “the tussle,” not in myself, and not in the relationship. He is right. I know there are some signs of tussle here. And regardless of her behavior, I am responsible for my dates and my relationships. I own that. And it’s up to me to keep the tussle out.

I am a little bitter now. It’s true. Five dates with a girl I really like. I do like her. She’s great. Great connection. But she is playing a little too hard to get. That can be true… and… I can still keep and eye on myself with the tussle.

I can’t make ultimatums. I know that. And my bitterness is not the slightest bit attractive. I get it. I should swing my dick… find something she likes. This post is almost a meditation to remind me to do exactly that.

And I think she does like my show. But when she puts long gaps in between our dates, she runs out the clock, and limits what I can do as a man leading her. If I can get her face to face, I have a LOT more options. If she makes that hard… we will run out of time… and chaos will win.

If I can’t use force here… and I cannot… my main tool is… to go date girls that are more into me. That is my option. Other girls. And to let things with her fall atrophy, if I can’t get her out or get her alone… if this is all she’s got for me.

And that sucks. I think she is into me. And she is fucking it up right now. But my life is about me. About what I can do. About my role. About my next steps. Always. This is on me. It always is.

The idea of just moving on to other girls is disappointing. And it is very hard for men… to face the idea of “giving up” and going back into the forest to hunt for some other girl. It’s very hard for me to have the discipline to do this when I’m invested. But I get it. This is an important truth.

I have a lot of other leads in play. And I will run game tomorrow.

But… fuck. She is such a dumb-lovely girl about all this. So many girls are. Self-sabotaging, adorable little fools.


She messaged me tonight when she got home. Thanking me. Being sweet. Saying she was going to bed.

I didn’t want to reward her with my usual response… my usual mix of effusion, romance, and dominance. There is some tussle in me tonight. She is in trouble. And I don’t want to over play that, but it’s true. I can’t yell at her, or try to “logic” her into spending time with me… but I can walk away. I can lean back… and let chaos consume our little thing we have. Fuck.

I waited until she was asleep and then sent her a pic of a princess asleep in bed. No comments from me, just that pic. That is a response… an attempt to minimize the tussle… but it is a noted step down from the Octopus game I have been giving her these last few weeks.

I bet she’ll message me this week.

And maybe I’ll try to get her out before next week? Or maybe that’s a mistake? Me chasing… just losing value. To let it die… or to chase. The double-edged sword of feminine chaos fucking me either way. I know there are other options besides those two.

Maybe I’ll invent some event to invite her too… as a way to introduce a new option (=”judo”), a time sensitive one that requires us to get together before next week… and by doing that, maybe I can recapture the frame? Maybe I can “be at the cause”, not “at the effect” of her delays?

I dunno.

Five dates. And I’m a frustrated monster.

There are other leads. I will be out tomorrow and my game is very warm right now. But this is not the path I want to be on tonight.

Viva daygame.