I was watching that scene from The Mummy Returns where Imhotep dies because Anck-Su-Namun left him while the ruins were collapsing. It made me think. Why is it so common for women to leave men as soon as the sun stops shining? They always do some mental gymnastics to justify them leaving over your weakness too, momentary weakness or not, like:
>I'm just not feeling the chemistry anymore
>You've changed
>You're not the man I thought you were
>The spark is gone.
>I think we're different people
And other euphemistic bullshit. It's fucked up and I've never been able to get over it about women. Women harp on and on about how they're the more empathetic sex, moralizing everything about their psychology and sexuality, but when it really comes down to it, when it actually fucking matters, they show very little, if any, true empathy at all for the one person who is out there protecting them and providing for them every day. It just destroys me. How can a man continue to love these creatures once he has discovered this brutal truth? I'm beginning to think that guys like Andrew Tate are right at least in the sense of how they treat women: women are luxuries, like Lamborghinis. They're for when you're doing well in life and have money, are fun to drive (fuck), but have a shit ton of maintenance and will have to inevitably be sold if your finances or life circumstances in general go under.
None of this is particularly inspiring for a hopeless romantic.
>I'm just not feeling the chemistry anymore
>You've changed
>You're not the man I thought you were
>The spark is gone.
>I think we're different people
And other euphemistic bullshit. It's fucked up and I've never been able to get over it about women. Women harp on and on about how they're the more empathetic sex, moralizing everything about their psychology and sexuality, but when it really comes down to it, when it actually fucking matters, they show very little, if any, true empathy at all for the one person who is out there protecting them and providing for them every day. It just destroys me. How can a man continue to love these creatures once he has discovered this brutal truth? I'm beginning to think that guys like Andrew Tate are right at least in the sense of how they treat women: women are luxuries, like Lamborghinis. They're for when you're doing well in life and have money, are fun to drive (fuck), but have a shit ton of maintenance and will have to inevitably be sold if your finances or life circumstances in general go under.
None of this is particularly inspiring for a hopeless romantic.
