I wrote this in late 2011, while I was finishing up the first draft of my awesome book Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser. / was still processing a lot of stuff I'd learned about pickup artist tactics and pickup artist attitudes, and that's reflected in this piece. But there's a lot more to it, from working out some stuff about polyamory to my feelings about marriage. A lot of these thoughts are developed further in Confessions.
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Chemistry It's a long story and a short one, but I guess all of them are.
I'm 27. It's about that age: A lot of my compatriots are getting married lately -- most monogamously, some to a primary polyamorous partner. I myself have a stack of relationships in my past. Some were monogamous, some polyamorous. Some have been on-and-off, some short-term, some long-term (5 or 6 years was the longest). Lately I've been processing some tough questions about polyamory, but I'd like to stick with it.
And I've been thinking a lot about what I want in a primary polyamorous partner. The kind of guy I could marry. I wonder if I'll ever get to that point. I wonder if I'd know him if I saw him.
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I met Mr. Ambition at one of the aforementioned weddings. Several people recommended that I talk to him, and we liked each other right away. Mutual friends used words like "zealot" to describe him; let's just say he's got an intense history of dedicated activism. Charisma, integrity, and pure energy pour off him. His words are almost always articulate and challenging. He can socially dominate a room without thinking. He works a challenging job ten hours per day; exercises two hours; socializes several hours; sleeps and eats when he can. He gives hugs easily, laughs easily, hands out compliments like candy.
Mr. Ambition is most definitely not a neutral personality. Of course, neither am I.
At the time, I was just coming out of the worst stage of my research on pickup artists -- a subculture of men who trade tips on how to seduce women. Also, I'd just had one of those breakups where I was too busy feeling stupid to properly understand how hurt I was. (Don't you hate those?) You can read all about those Dramatic Events in my upcoming book Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser. In the meantime, suffice to say that I felt... flattened.
Arguably, I should have had a sign taped to my forehead that read: "Emotionally Unavailable."
I went to dinner with Mr. Ambition later that week. At the end of the meal, he sat back and looked at me. "You're so authentic," he said.
"I haven't felt very authentic lately," I said frankly, but his words felt good. Like a balm. Like I was healing.
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