“No way to prepare; impending despair…”

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Were I compelled to choose the one quality possessed by the preponderance of men I’ve known that were good with women, it wouldn’t take me long to do so.

 

Of the myriad qualities they may share, there’s a sole contender that jumps out at me.

 

That singular trait:

 

Loss

 

Without exception, they had a tremendous heartbreak at some point.

 

Something downright earth-shattering.

 

Usually a vicious betrayal.

 

Although, rarely, a very difficult upbringing may act as a substitute.

 

 

 

The unsuccessful, however, generally share the opposite quality:

 

Ease.

 

This is not to say their lives were without troubles, rather to say they’d been sheltered or generally spared certain harsh realities.

 

(Or discounted such as flukes, when encountered, which is why so many otherwise clever, young men hobble themselves.)

 

 

 

Now, I’m sure my comments could be filled with exceptions on both fronts.

 

But I’d wager they’d still be insufficient to counter the lesson.

 

 

 

See, the loss (while miserable, in and of itself) is the crumbling of a stone blocking the larger path.

 

(That larger path being a wider breadth of success.)

 

It shatters pedestals and illusions of perfection, alike.

 

Leaving a man to deal with what is, rather than what is imagined.

 

Whereas as ease, well—

 

Tilting at windmills gives no useful experience at besting dragons.

 

 

 “He who learns must suffer, and, even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.”

 

– Aeschylus

 

 

 

 

 

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