Enter the Star Wars: Episode: 0. Yes, once a guy utters these words – he demotes himself from an admired Jedi-hero to a zero, in the eyes of a woman who’s been duped to adore him [tears shed].
Now, there’s an endless stream of advice on why/who/where/how on the issue of ‘Space’. Most sources give the generic enausiating same advice — I just interpret it diffently :
- He’s a man [to the extent his mommy will allow]
- He needs to feel in control [psychopath]
- He’s unsure about his feelings [robot]
- He wants to regain his independent identity again [choose any former part of the USSR]
- His decision will make your relationship better [the EU; think Brexit]
- It’s not about you, he just needs some time to sort things out [it 99% maybe about the awesome YOU he can’t fathom – he maybe a retarded moron; who’s to make that judgement, aside from the qualified professionals?]
- Don’t over-react; [tell that to the German Chancellor post WWI to avoid the WWII and see how that fares… just a thought.)
- Be kind, loving, compassionate [that’s your mommy’s job, not your GF’s.]
- When he comes back – welcome him with ‘open arms’ [I assume that means weapons, idk?] and talk it with him about the separation [like Ivan the Terrible of Russia, idk – stick the spike?] Of course I’m exaggerating, my gentile appologies…
The problem no one seems to square off is, guys may think: “I need a break here, hun.” While the ladies hear it as: “I’m crossing to the Dark Side…” or “Jeez, I know I pulled my balls inside-out to get your attention, but now I’d like to re-visit my life before you, and pls don’t ask why I wanted to pull my balls inside out for you in the first place, since I’m now bolting.”
The Second Part is the Worst Advice Ever Given to Women:
“Stroke your man’s ego/build him up” BUT, and that’s a big BUT “don’t rely on him fulfilling/validating/ stroking your (gasp} Self-Esteem”! [Yes, ladies and gents, apparently there’s a gender [evo-bio-socio-patho-logical] distinction that men have ‘fragile egos’ and women have ‘fragile self-esteem.’] Did no one really think to point out that its: potatoes/potatos??
So, the Man is on the Mission to Space Exploration:
It happened to me, literally a week ago – and my first instinct (and a persistent one) is to strap him to the shuttle at the Kennedy Space Center and voice the count-down: 3-2-1… But, I ‘played along’ – as advised by all the nonsensical media out there, texting him: “Take all the time you need. You’re in my thoughts. Don’t worry about me.” – Crap.
Meanwhile, I felt I suffered so much from him wanting to cut me out of his life [temporarily, as his male psyche may delude him], that I went sort of numb… As a result, I do not feel bad at all about entertaining an idea of chatting up the cute guy at the coffee-shop I see often in his hot uniform, and see if we could have a date. I would not feel guilty meeting someone out of the blue, either. The point is – he left me in the hanger, but I maybe tempted to pilot the ultra-light that’s just sitting there, waiting for no-one.
The man I thought I loved [and who said he loved me] does not wish to speak to me and said “I want to see some other face besides yours”… for now. But I am not obligated to wait for him. I’m not Penelope and he’s no Odysseus.
Should my ‘space-man’ decide to resurface on this Earth; I’d probably have a few responses (none are what he’d expect), but he may counter:
- “Uh-huh… [While researching something on my Lenovo, with much poignant indiffernece to his re-appearance.]
- “Hmm, ya know – I kind of like this new ‘space-thing’; dude: I’m a ‘space girl’ now. Your idea – and an excellent implementation on top?! Kudos! [Risky, but do you see it, ladies – why should we inflate his tires when he’s no NASCAR champ?]
- “So, I’ll maybe see you later?” ‘Says he; explanation: on the planet ’Crapstone’. And, yes – whatever you do – avoid the Crap-tonite [aka-any marginal closeness with the dude; just feed him the scraps of your attention/affection that will forever pale with what his sorry ass was lucky to get freely before…] If you’re a Normal-woman, [god, if you’re an Uber/Super Girl – please open the school, like the X-men [but maybe not, if that’s why they’re now almost ‘X-tinct’] Crapstonite will always just be what it is… Crap.
- And as the final, he says: “I miss you”: Translation is desperately needed here. What he likely means is that he misses the ‘super-fun-times/sex’ or he can’t get any new conquest. So, Babe – come back here.”
- My answer to that would be (thoutgh I’m using a particular enterprise as an example):”I wish I could — I was just made an Executive VP of my [enter anything here… My McDonald’s Region!.” All work is to be respected. and Geez, the two letters : VP [Vice-presedente] will knock him off his ego-stall.
- Ladies, I take a priorty on you –the dudes should not get a free ‘do whatever’ pass without consequences. And if they do — you are granted [by them] the same.
Case Closed. Check-Mate.
Please share your own experiences in the Comments [all vox populi is uncensored, so let it rip].
