What A Woman Wants From A Man

A woman wants a man’s soul.

Hyperbole?

Perhaps.

Maybe it’s not a man’s soul a woman wants. Maybe she just wants control.

And a smart woman knows she can have it.

I know. I’ve lost, or sold, my soul more than once.

Like most men, I am weak in the face of that small space between a woman’s thighs, what I call the “gapage.”

That half of an inch of light that allows men to see the perfect woman in, well, nearly every woman.

Until it is too late.

“You told me last night, Jim, that you loved me.“

And I know I was drunk. And I know I can’t remember what the fuck I said. And I don’t know if she is bluffing.

And she knows I can’t risk finding out.

She wants control. More than I do.

And she will play every card from the bottom of the deck to get it.

She will weaponize her gapage to get control and to keep it.

She knows that most men love women.

We worship women.

Most women, on the other hand, despise men. They hate needing a man. For anything. And so they tolerate men.

They fake it. Until they don’t have to.

Unlike men, women don’t need sex. And even if they did, a 10,000 rpm vibrator is better than any man can do on his best day. Or night.

Which leaves the real reason most women really want a man:

Money.

A woman will stay with a man for money until half of it is hers, and when half is enough, she’s out like shit through a goose.

Men know it’s true, or should, but we stay anyway. We pretend “this one is different.”

And this one. And that one. And that one, too.

No one knows why men engage in these seemingly relentless flights of fantasy.

Especially men.

Maybe it’s our need to believe there is someone out there who loves us more than we love ourselves.

And there is, of course: Our dogs.

But women aren’t like dogs. There is nothing women give a man - love, sex, or you name it - that is unconditional.

Everything is quid pro quo.

There are women, of course, who already have money and need a house boy to kiss the right places and to show off at cocktail parties, and women who have no money who need a field boy to work himself to death to make enough money so she can one day leave him and fuck the neighbor or the pool boy, sooner the better.

Either way, most men stay even after coming to this epiphany because we are too lazy to walk away and know at a cellular level that we while we can change the face we wake up to in the morning, we can’t change the fact that behind the new face is more of the same.

The solution? Easy.

Enjoy women as friends. Just friends.

It can happen. But not for long.

Women know that all power comes from guns, drugs, or pussy, and they have a monopoly on only one.

The combination of a man’s disprovable and pitiful belief the perfect woman exists and if he looks hard enough he will find her, and a woman’s ability to take advantage of that fantasy, leaves most men a choice:

Admit failure, take orders, and die wondering.

Or, live each woman knowing that, given enough time, she will leave you face down in the dirt, and that you will get up, brush yourself off, and try again if only because hope springs eternal, much like failure.

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