On being the last one at the party

Today, a guy who first reached out to me on Twitter two years ago, who I somewhat hesitantly met up with to ‘do’ some Game with, but quickly formed a good dynamic with, messaged me and our small group of NE lads to say he was out – done with Daygame. It took a little while for it to sink in: has he met a girl and kept quiet about her?

No. The answer was less romantic. He is just simply sick of daygame and he wants to focus on other things. No more salting away afternoon sessions, daft pints and 20k steps. He wants to build his aims and use his time in more productive ways. I called him and we talked it over, albeit briefly.

There is no denying daygame has been challenging for both of us recently (but certainly him more so than me). He has had some great girls just flake or attractive girls fuck him around and drop off after one date. It all takes a toll; the rejections, further rejections, a good set that rejects you, a good set that volunteers her social/number but it goes nowhere, followed by that beautiful date that goes nowhere. Time is a flat circle. The process wears you down but those embers of hope remain. Until they don’t and you just feel fucking fed up and deflated with the lack of return on investment (a bit like my 2000 dollars pissed away on $NEO). Absolute respect for his reasons and for him as a man, though. I came of the call feeling this strange sense of remoteness, a vulnerability. I started dayagme on my own – approaching in my city centre and going abroad – alone. I felt no vacuum and no sense of need.

Always a But…

But the danger of daygaming with a good wing who you enjoy spending time with is that ultimately it turns into conduit for dealing with the stress and humanising the experience. Yes, of course, you know you can go out and do solo-sessions (which I did, and still do) but you always know that the weekend, or that random Thursday night is there for a get together – the two of you hitting the bricks, talking, sharing tribulation and finishing off with a pint or two as you lol at the drama and failure of the day. Having that – that ability to unload is priceless – and one of the reasons a good wing is a blessing but also a curse – because you lose (thankfully) the ability to act like a street psychopath and be numb to all the shit. A lack of a good wing is probably the most important reason why normal men without psychopathic disorders quit daygame prematurely because they have no-one to talk to and share the flat circle with.

One of our group, a great guy and an absolute legend in the community (as Bodi and Krauser will testify) recently became a father. We met up last week and he was a changed man – for the better. Fatherhood has probably reinvented him as a much improved version of himself. We felt the restrictions of the ultimate responsibility would break him by removing his freedom to fuck around all over the place. But the opposite happened, and it has been awesome to see.

On the back of all of this I did two sets today and they both went nowhere. As I walked to my car I sent an audio note on WhatsApp to 145k celebrity girl asking if she wanted to come to mine on Saturday to help put my Christmas tree up. It struck me as slightly strange that for the last three years I will have had three girls under 20 years of age (and all very cute) at my home for, or around, Christmas. But there is no meaning there. There is an emptiness at its heart. Incipient relationships with girls half my age.

It’s a strange feeling, a little like being blindsided but it illustrates the importance of having other interests in life apart from women (and daygame).

But it also brings acutely into focus the importance of time as your most important asset, because when your peer-group of like-minded daygame soul-mates eventually leave the Game for good, you don’t want to be the last man standing alone in that room when the music stops and the lights go out…

Or the last man hitting the streets… Just one more set…

BroodingSea, November 2021