My Former Protege Returns

A couple of years ago, when I was new to the proactive sector of the manosphere, I had a protege I lovingly nicknamed Papa II.  He was thus nicknamed because of his close resemblance in personality to Shai, my Dad before Santa, and other men I look up to, even though he is chronologically much younger.  The basic material is there.

In time, accelerated very likely by my realization that I am not a cougar, it ended because I was half on purpose, behaving more like an auntie than a girlfriend.  I saw myself as more a perverted mentor…a dirty old lady taking advantage even though I am physically and psychologically incapable of actually taking advantage of him.

After he gave me the it’s-not-working-for-me speech, I couldn’t even muster upset-ness.  It was something I expected to happen.  At the time, I thought it was because he’d taken a liking to one of my very few female friends who, despite her being a nice person, was a bit of a bumbler when it came to the men whose hearts and egos she was breaking.  I felt bad for him because that was going to be doomed since she’s a Lesbian.  However, I felt relieved that I would be out of the way before that imploded.  I’d nursed Kahuna through the fallout of her rejecting him during her confused phase and his painfully beta phase.  I was not looking forward to doing that again.

I was just happy that at least he didn’t break up with me over my ethnicity.  This was a normal I’m too old thing.  I could deal with that.  It was fun and respectful while it lasted.

So about a month ago, he called.  He’s in the military now, and he likes it (no surprise there).  The night before last, since he has some time off because of spraining his ankle, we met and talked for awhile.

Crap…usual stupid SMS from Slick.  “You don’t even answer anymore.”

I have nothing to say to him.  Anyway, Papa II and I talked.  For some weird reason, he apologized for being a jerk.  He says he was manipulating my friend because he figured it would get back to me and I’d end it myself so he wouldn’t have to do the breaking up, but I don’t really buy that.  I don’t really care what that was, and am just glad he didn’t get caught up to get his soul crushed.

I told him that he had nothing to apologize, and that compared to how a couple of other guys here have broken up with me, he did rather well.  There’s no fun way to break up with someone.

Between the lines though is that it was an abomination that never should have happened.  I prefer older men.  The only reason anybody younger than me had a snowball’s chance in hell is due to some excusably bad advice given to me by men who care about me and don’t understand why anyone would want to harm me.  They didn’t even imagine that there were some men in this world who weren’t so evil that they were visibly defective, who would dream of exploiting me or intentionally or due to severe sickness of some sort, breaking my heart.

This is why I was a spoiled bitch princess.  Too many men love the hell out of me, some platonically, and some with inappropriate sexual tension.  Papa II was just part of an important lesson I needed to learn: show no mercy.

A woman should be like a cat…prone to whimsy, and frightened of anything that moves or looks as if it may cause harm, whether it is rational or not.  She should be courageous in defense of her cubs, but a coward in defense of her self.  Flee often.  Fight only when it’s really worth it.

I was too much fight and not enough flee…too much explore and not enough hide and wait.  So in my phase of sniffing kittens, I gained way too many scars on the nose…but I learned.  I learned that no matter how great a younger guy is, he is going to either fail me or dump me if he feels he has better options.  It doesn’t even have to be so, but if he thinks it is, then that is enough to make him no good to me.

Even older guys can be this way.  It’s just that they usually have enough experience with women by 40+ to understand that women as cool and down to earth as I am are very few and far between.  The only problem with older men is prior entanglements.  So that’s a numbers game.  One day I’ll meet Mr. Respectful S. Affair, and we’ll be cool with each other until one of us ages out.

Either way, a younger guy is like volunteering for pain, so when that was over as expected, I had nothing to say when he asked me how I felt about it but, “That’s not your business anymore.”

It’s no surprise that it took him 2 years to speak to me.  He says it’s because he was embarassed and felt guilty, but I think it’s more that he felt he had better things to do than talk to me.  So I do appreciate the gesture.  I’d expect nothing less from a great guy like him, than to try to make whatever women are in his perceived sphere of influence feel okay with themselves.

…but it’s kinda irrelevant.  It’s like a formality when you ask someone how they’re doing, but you don’t really care.

So I’m not really sure what he wants from me, though I hope that it’s friendship.  His mom isn’t very mentor like, so he probably need someone to fill that role.  I don’t mind.  I’d just like to conduct that as if nothing ever happened…add him to my collection of bros, and just forget that whole time except the lesson.