POV: You're Dating Your Dream Girl

I’m guilty of using writing as an outlet for my difficult feelings.

When times are tough, I’m down, depressed, and struggling, I write as a way to cope.

As a result, when everything is going amazingly, like now, I write, podcast, and journal A LOT less.

This is my attempt to get some thoughts out to y’all, while times are high and the living is easy.

I’ll just get to the point:

I’m dating my dream girl.

(Read my post, “Solitary Beast Fumbles His Dream Girl”)

But let’s back up.

After about 6 months of suffering, existential crisis, venturing into the dark abyss of ego death, I was finally starting to feel better.

Time, as it does, had started healing the raw, open wound of rejection.

I had put a lot of effort into my journey:

running and weight training

journaling

meditation

pouring myself into work.

I was also applying and interviewing for better paying careers in my field.

I coupled that external transformation with extensive studying about attachment trauma, inner child work, and Carl Jung’s concept of “the shadow”.

On weekends, I knocked out remodeling projects, studied for a license in my field, and contemplated going back to school to complete a degree.

My heart still ached when I remembered my time with Brittany.

I had met the woman of my dreams, seduced her on two dates, and into bed, only to crash and burn.

I’d never see her again.

Trying to Move On

Since that time, I’d forced myself to go on a handful of other dates.

I met up with women from age 25 to 41.

We’d shared coffee dates, walks in the park, and mocktails in my favorite lounge

None of those women were the potent combination of hilarious, whip smart, and devastatingly attractive as Brittany- and I resented them for it.

I felt slightly discouraged.

However, I also was completely, 100% positive that the my exact type of woman: sexy, confident, intelligent, seductive, fun in bed, and, most important, super into me, was out there.

Even better, I never stopped believing that woman was looking for someone like me.

Manifesting Reality

The most important idea I want you to take from this post is that you need to promise yourself you will never give up.

This applies to so much more than women.

While I was getting over the biggest fumble of my entire life, I was actively applying for new jobs.

I enjoy my work, but I desired to earn a lot more money, while staying in the same field, and without needing to go back to school for dozens of years.

To make a long story short, I applied for dozens of jobs, interviewed every week for months, and, just when it seemed like I would never find the opportunity I was looking for, a golden opportunity fell in my lap.

At the time of this writing, I will start a new position, with a huge raise, in two days.

It’s Gonna Take Longer Than You Think

If you want something, anything, acknowledge the fact that it won’t be easy.

It’s going to take work.

It’s going to take longer than you think.

You’ll get annoyed, frustrated, pissed off, and angry enough to strangle somebody, plenty of times.

I know I did.

However, if you persist, if you promise yourself you will never give up, it’ll happen.

There will be month, possibly entire years, or more, where the needle doesn’t even move.

Zero new matches, zero new subscribers, zero emails from prospective employers or business partners.

Until it clicks.

The trick is to put in the work until.

Most people can’t endure, so they give up.

Everything All At Once

All of a sudden, Brittany was back. (See my post, “Dream Girl Returns?”)

It’s like I manifested her, through thinking about her so hard, for all this time.

Now it’s been a few short, magical weeks of seeing each other.

The first time we re-connected, I invited her over to make dinner together.

“Come over at 7, bring a bottle of wine. I’ll take care of everything else”, I messaged.

At 6:59PM on the dot, my doorbell rang.

I opened the door to reveal the woman I had agonized over, for months, standing on my welcome mat.

Brittany’s wavy dark hair was tousled, light brown eyes twinkling.

Her petite frame perched in shiny, fashionable heels, tight jeans hugged her fit waist and curvy hips.

My eyes raked over her sexy, athletic body, and subtle, sophisticated style, then met hers.

She flashed a big, warm smile.

I invited her in.

In a smooth motion, I took her coat.

She seemed surprised, but didn’t resist, when I leaned in for a kiss on her softly painted lips.

We’ve been together ever since.

Obviously, there’s much more to say on this topic.

In summary, I am currently dating and sleeping with (A LOT, actually, she’s insatiable) my 10/10 dream woman.

She’s intimidatingly intelligent, slyly funny, with sweet, Southern girl charm.

Not to mention she is absolutely gorgeous.

She calls me “Baby”, rides my dick, looking deep into my eyes, telling me how big I feel inside her.

I start thrusting inside her, bouncing her like a wild bronco.

It drives her crazy.

The demure kitten transforms into an untamed tiger.

She grabs my chest, grinding her hips into me, biting her bottom lip, swearing and praying to God, saying words I won’t repeat here, under her breath.

The slow, rhythmic grind turns into ferocious bucking.

As she comes, the moans turn into screams, then shaking.

She collapses on my chest panting like she just ran a marathon.

She kisses my chest and plays with my hair as her breathing returns to normal.

The feral tiger converts back into the adorable kitten.

Then she makes me a midnight snack in panties and a big t-shirt.

Reincarnation

When Brittany sleeps over, my pillows smell like her hair.

She texts me all day, memes, jokes, love notes, and selfies.

Every day I think I must be dreaming.

I feel like I died and was reincarnated.

As a badass motherfucker in a fun, sexy, romantic relationship with a more amazing woman than I could have created in a laboratory, if God Himself had asked me to.

It’s great.

I’m really happy.

I don’t think it’s possible, or realistic, to own women, especially not one like this.

I’m living in the present and enjoying the moment.

Tomorrow she invited me over to her house, to make me dinner, and, fuck me on the rug in her living room.

I can’t wait.