I had everything lined up perfectly. I was driving this girl I had known for quite a while, back to her house after a party. Countless IOI's. She was basically complimenting everything about me, and as I was taking her back, she made comments that seemed to imply "Finally, this is happening. You had better invite yourself into my house. Your loser friend has even done that much". Loud and clear message. Easiest job in existence. Even without my Red Pill knowledge, it would have been IMPOSSIBLE for me to misread the situation.

We arrive at her house.

We talk a little.

She gets out the car.

She thanks me.

She goes into her house.

I do nothing.

I do nothing.

I do nothing.

Here I am, with perhaps the easiest fucking scenario you could possibly conjure. My "reward" was being handed to me on a silver platter, with neon signs screaming "Take! Take! Take! Take!"

And I don't take it.

At this point, I can only think that I'm just... scared to win. I mind feels worthy of the fruits of my labour, but my body couldn't agree less.

It reminds me of a time when I was reading a romance novel. I enjoyed the story greatly, until the final chapter, which lead to the couple having sex. Once I realised what was about to happen in that story, I began tensing up... and panicking. I did not expect this at all. I found myself struggling to actually finish the chapter - which was supposed to be happy and a satisfying conclusion to a love story.

It's evident that no matter how close you put me to the finish line, I choose not to cross it. It feels like all my effort has been for naught. I can only predict that I'll somehow begin bursting into tears if I somehow actually get to foreplay, if I'll ever allow that to happen...

(Note: I realise what this may imply to my mental health, so let me make it clear that I am not a victim of sexual abuse. The only sexual experience I have is with my hand.)