I checked in on one of my old women. Come to find out, I have story written about me in the school newspaper dated to a couple years ago. Even after we ended on the sourest of notes, she still talked about me with an even keel.
She didn't insult me. She didn't denigrate me. She wrote with a lightheartedness that I enjoyed. When I saw the article, my heart fluttered like a school girl who's boyfriend asked her to marry him (I'm using a matrix example in lieu of my lack of true fantasies that women wished they were asked. I'm reading about that now, while I'm doing my pushups.
)[Truthfully, I think I had a fantasy about her PROPOSING TO ME in that moment.]
I could feel that she wanted it to end differently. Memories flooded back to my consciousness. At the time, I couldn't see the path because I was so in my head.
The search I used to find out more about what she was up to also yielded a working email address for me to contact her at. I immediately told her how I wanted our situation to end differently and gave her some material that should prove useful for what she's doing now.
She was the first woman to pay me.
Right after I took the red pill and was still seething with hatred and slew of emotions that made me EXCEPTIONALLY STAUNCH, she sucked it up (literally and figuratively) and dealt with my ridiculous demands. Three words she used to describe us: "became an island"
Unsurprisingly, her value is taking off. She isn't one of the prettiest women, but she uses her head.