Ok, so I know that my wife is the stereotypical woman that redpill men bemoan in their literature, videos, and podcasts.   I know that she’s a liar.  I know that she lacks empathy.  I know that she doesn’t/can’t really understand the concept of loyalty or love.   I know that she’s shallow, vain, probably depressed, and needs drama.   I’ve met women since the breakdown of our marriage who I’ve had much better conversations with.    I know that there are prettier women out there.   She’s not really all that.   I know that we’re just not really that compatible overall.   I know that she’s selfish, secretive, a bad communicator, untrustworthy, and overall, not good wife material.  I know that her being sexually attracted whatever the flavor of the season is means that she’s literally loses her mind and will drop everything and everyone else to chase that thing.   Family is less important than fulfilling her sexual desires.   It’s not even a physical thing, it’s emotional and her emotions override everything including family, her morals (or lack thereof), and principles (except her princess mentality).  I now know that she’s not who she presented herself as so it was inevitable that she’d 180 on me.

But yet and still, I find myself having moments of weakness praying that our family works out.  Even though it appears that she doesn’t.   I mean why do I feel so bad about this.   I can own up to my end of the breakdown.   I didn’t know a women’s nature was to monkey branch.  Nor that that I had to make a better attempt to guess at and control her emotions.  Nor that I shouldn’t have loved her with my heart.  Nor that nothing dries the coochie faster than being a good man.  I didn’t know that being nice to her was turning her off.   I gave away my power and she got wicked drunk off it.

I, like most ‘good’ husbands,  got cheated on and left because we just didn’t know.   And like most of those guys, I have to face the consequences of my ignorance.

I take a bit of solace knowing that I’m not alone.  It does take some of the edge off knowing that dysfunction is the new norm.  That women can’t ever be happy or content with neither an alpha nor a beta male.   I thought I was over it, but whenever I think she’s talking to her new victim, I still get hurt and angry.  When she lies to me, it still bothers me.

How can loving someone cut so deep.   Have I been around her so long that I’m doing like her?   I am allowing my emotions to override my reasoning to the point of self destruction.   I’m sitting her feeling bad while she’s out there chasing butterflies.   I know that she doesn’t have the capacity to understand how important or big losing our family is to me or our son.   I know that she isn’t self reflective enough to realize that she acts colder and less responsible (in her day to day obligations related to what’s left of the family) when she’s out chasing butterflies and setting up her next victim.

I just want to be over this.