Speaker 1: There are truths that are never whispered aloud. They're hidden
Speaker 1: beneath layers of romance, veiled in sweet metaphors, disguised as
Speaker 1: noble ideals. These are truths that no one wants to
Speaker 1: look at directly, because if they did, everything they believed
Speaker 1: about love, connection and forever would begin to crumble. And
Speaker 1: yet it's precisely within those uncomfortable truths that freedom resides.
Speaker 1: The kind of truths that don't caress, They strike, that
Speaker 1: tear at the soul, but also open the eyes. And
Speaker 1: there is one truth in particular that many men are
Speaker 1: not prepared to hear. A woman does not love the
Speaker 1: way you love. She never has, not out of malice
Speaker 1: or deceit, but because her internal logic, her emotional architecture,
Speaker 1: responds to a system that is not yours. While you
Speaker 1: build castles in the dreaming of eternity, she evaluates, selects, adapts.
Speaker 1: While you love from a deep yearning for fusion, she
Speaker 1: acts according to something older, more biological, more pragmatic. But
Speaker 1: you didn't know that. No one told you. Since childhood,
Speaker 1: you were taught that one day she would appear the
Speaker 1: right one. You were fed stories where love heals everything
Speaker 1: where sacrifice is always rewarded, and where if you give
Speaker 1: it you're all you'll receive the same in return. You
Speaker 1: were told persistence was romantic, that crying for love was noble,
Speaker 1: that surrendering completely was the right thing to do. But
Speaker 1: they didn't tell you the most important part. That the
Speaker 1: kind of love you expect, the one that gives itself
Speaker 1: unconditionally and forever, is not the one that often governs
Speaker 1: how many women choose and love. Schopenhauer saw it with
Speaker 1: brutal clarity. He wrote, without decoration, without the softening of
Speaker 1: poets or the sweetness of novelists, what the world calls
Speaker 1: romantic love is, for the most part, a mirage, a
Speaker 1: social construction that dulls the man, distracts him from his essence,
Speaker 1: domesticates him with the promise of a soulmate that may,
Speaker 1: in truth be nothing more than a biological mechanism disguised
Speaker 1: as emotional destiny. The philosopher didn't say this to wound,
Speaker 1: but to awaken. He warned that the female instinct, though
Speaker 1: it doesn't come from disdain or cruelty, is programmed to
Speaker 1: seek protection, stability, continuity, that it often operates without the
Speaker 1: woman even being consciously aware of it, guided by the
Speaker 1: cold laws of natural selection, and that if a man
Speaker 1: doesn't understand this, if he keeps operating up to the
Speaker 1: illusion that both genders loved the same way, he will
Speaker 1: destroy himself, not because of her, but because he keeps
Speaker 1: expecting from her something she was never meant to provide.
Speaker 1: You didn't know. That's why you gave everything, your focus,
Speaker 1: your vital energy, your time, your vulnerability, believing that what
Speaker 1: you offered would be returned with the same depth. And
Speaker 1: when it wasn't, when you felt her grow cold, distant,
Speaker 1: disappear without clear explanation, the pain was unbearable, not just
Speaker 1: because you lost a person, but because the fantasy that
Speaker 1: had been holding you together suddenly collapsed. And it is
Speaker 1: precisely there in the heart of that void that this
Speaker 1: path begins. Because if you're reading this, if you felt
Speaker 1: that silent betrayal, if you've tasted the bitterness of giving
Speaker 1: everything and receiving only silence, then maybe you're ready, ready
Speaker 1: to stop idealizing, ready to start seeing, not from resentment
Speaker 1: but from clarity. When the illusion finally breaks, what remains
Speaker 1: isn't just pain, it's confusion. Because you don't understand what happened.
Speaker 1: You thought you had done everything right. You were present, loyal, devoted,
Speaker 1: You gave her all you had without reservation. And yet
Speaker 1: she left or changed or replaced you without a clear explanation.
Speaker 1: And there, in that gap between what you believed and
Speaker 1: what actually occurred, the true fracture begins. It wasn't her
Speaker 1: departure that shattered you. It was realizing she had never
Speaker 1: been in the same story you were writing. Schopenhauer explained
Speaker 1: it without filters. To him, the love a man idealizes
Speaker 1: is a mirage that diverts him from his purpose, keeping
Speaker 1: him entangled in a narrative that was never his to
Speaker 1: begin with. From his perspective, what you interpret as eternal
Speaker 1: love may well be from the other side, an efficient
Speaker 1: biological strategy, a mechanism that selects, evaluates, and discards when
Speaker 1: it no longer serves its function. You thought the two
Speaker 1: of you were building something together, but she, often without
Speaker 1: consciously realizing it, was responding to her survival impulse. While
Speaker 1: you dreamed of sole, deep union. She was assessing your
Speaker 1: capacity to offer emotional, economic, and genetic stability. Not out
Speaker 1: of malice, not out of superficiality, but because of hard
Speaker 1: wired biological programming, and that though it stings, doesn't make
Speaker 1: her less valuable, it makes her fundamentally different. The problem
Speaker 1: isn't her, The problem is your ignorance of that structural difference.
Speaker 1: While you expect love to be a sacred, unchanging promise,
Speaker 1: she may be seeing a temporary opportunity. While you believe
Speaker 1: that your full hearted devotion guarantees permanence. Her instinct tells
Speaker 1: her she must continually evaluate whether you remain the optimal choice,
Speaker 1: not from the romantic heart, but from the cold, primal
Speaker 1: logic of survival. And when you no longer are, when
Speaker 1: her unconscious perception senses that someone else might offer greater status, security, strength,
Speaker 1: or resources, her desire fades. No drama, no warning, no explanation,
Speaker 1: It simply vanishes. What you felt was a sacred bond
Speaker 1: becomes to her a completed cycle, and you, who still
Speaker 1: believe love was eternal or left in ruins asking where
Speaker 1: did I go wrong? But you didn't go wrong. You
Speaker 1: simply entered the wrong game using rules you didn't know existed.
Speaker 1: You stepped on to an emotional battlefield thinking you were
Speaker 1: in a spiritual partnership, when in reality, you were unknowingly
Speaker 1: participating in natural selection. That doesn't make you weak, it
Speaker 1: doesn't make you foolish. It makes you human, deeply human,
Speaker 1: idealistic to the point of blindness. And this is the
Speaker 1: moment where many men break beyond repair. They become bitter, resentful, hardened.
Speaker 1: They think the only option is to hate women or
Speaker 1: withdraw from emotional connection entirely. But Schopenhauer didn't propose that.
Speaker 1: He never asked you to stop loving. He asked you
Speaker 1: to start seeing, to stop idealizing, to realize that what
Speaker 1: you call love might not have the same meaning from
Speaker 1: the other side. And once you see that, there's no
Speaker 1: going back. The veil falls, and with it the entire
Speaker 1: narrative that kept you on your knees. When everything collapses
Speaker 1: and she leaves, whether physically or emotionally, you don't know
Speaker 1: how to respond. You're unprepared because you didn't enter this
Speaker 1: bond through convenience. You entered through hope, through the deep
Speaker 1: conviction that she was the one, not a chapter, not
Speaker 1: a phase, not a possibility, but the final destination. That's
Speaker 1: why when she pulls away or someone else appears in
Speaker 1: her orbit, your entire world disintegrates. You feel the chill
Speaker 1: of the unexplainable, and worst of all, you blame yourself,
Speaker 1: so you try harder, You multiply the messages, the gestures,
Speaker 1: the desperate acts of affection. You fight to save what
Speaker 1: you had, but there's nothing left to save, because what
Speaker 1: you felt was a spiritual connection was, from her perspective,
Speaker 1: and from Schopenhauer's cold lens, a functional bond that either
Speaker 1: fulfilled its purpose or was replaced by something more advantageous.
Speaker 1: And here comes the most devastating confusion. She doesn't hate you.
Speaker 1: She may not even have a clear reason. She's simply disconnected,
Speaker 1: not out of cruelty, not by design, but because her
Speaker 1: instinct told her too, because she no longer perceived in
Speaker 1: you the same promise of safety or progress. Because even
Speaker 1: without rational awareness, her nature functions like a radar that's
Speaker 1: always scanning, and when it detects someone with greater status, resources,
Speaker 1: symbolic strength, or future potential, her attraction shifts. You don't
Speaker 1: understand how this is possible, how someone can say she
Speaker 1: loves you one day and behave like a stranger the next.
Speaker 1: But that's because you still see love as a straight line,
Speaker 1: something that, once born, can only grow. You don't realize
Speaker 1: that for her, that line is dynamic, flexible, dictated by
Speaker 1: factors you can't control and often can't even perceive. So
Speaker 1: in your desperation, you crawl, you cry, you beg, You
Speaker 1: become a shadow of who you were, trying to revive
Speaker 1: something that no longer exists. You humiliate yourself because you
Speaker 1: believe your love can reignite her interest. But the more
Speaker 1: you lower yourself, the more you vanish, the less she
Speaker 1: sees you. Because she doesn't respond to your pain. She
Speaker 1: responds to your position, and when that position becomes needy, submissive, desperate,
Speaker 1: it no longer holds the value her instinct seeks. And
Speaker 1: in that quiet, invisible process, you lose more than a woman.
Speaker 1: You lose your center. Your dignity evaporates, your direction collapses
Speaker 1: because everything had been anchored in her, your purpose, your motivation,
Speaker 1: your emotional identity, and when she's gone, you no longer
Speaker 1: know who you are without that story. That's when the
Speaker 1: real fall begins, not with the break up, but with
Speaker 1: the realization that you abandoned yourself inside that relationship. And
Speaker 1: the most bitter part is that you can't even hate her,
Speaker 1: because deep down you know she didn't write the false
Speaker 1: narrative you did, you projected it, you dreamed it, and
Speaker 1: now pain teaches you with ruthless clarity that the price
Speaker 1: of idealizing without understanding is losing yourself in a story
Speaker 1: that was never real. That moment of collapse isn't just
Speaker 1: about heart break. It's an existential implosion, because it's not
Speaker 1: only her that leaves. Your entire sense of purpose, which
Speaker 1: you had tied to her presence, vanishes with her. The
Speaker 1: future you envisioned crumbles, the illusion you nurtured through every
Speaker 1: silent sacrifice, every small surrender of self evaporates, and what's
Speaker 1: left is emptiness. Emptiness and ruins, an identity shattered not
Speaker 1: by betrayal, but by the choice to pour your soul
Speaker 1: into something that only ever needed function, by expecting permanence
Speaker 1: in a system designed by biology to be adaptive, temporary, utilitarian.
Speaker 1: Schopenhauer didn't say this to break you. He said it
Speaker 1: to wake you, because as long as you believe your
Speaker 1: devotion guarantees eternal love, you'll be destroyed by a logic
Speaker 1: that was never yours. Many men never recur. They remained there,
Speaker 1: trapped in a shattered narrative, repeating the cycle, chasing the
Speaker 1: same illusion with different names and faces, over and over,
Speaker 1: hoping that this time it's different. But nothing changes because
Speaker 1: it's not the woman who must change. It's your perception
Speaker 1: that must shatter your understanding, your mental frame work. The
Speaker 1: story you believed was happening, and for that you must
Speaker 1: face a brutal truth. You allowed it, not as guilt,
Speaker 1: but as key. You were the one who gave everything
Speaker 1: without requiring real reciprocity. You were the one who shifted
Speaker 1: your direction to fit into hers. You were the one
Speaker 1: who stopped building your own kingdom to invest in hers.
Speaker 1: You believed that love meant pain, that persistence was no
Speaker 1: that giving up was cowardice. But the real cowardice is
Speaker 1: continuing to feed an illusion that's killing your soul. When
Speaker 1: you repeat that phrase, I allowed it, you're not condemning yourself,
Speaker 1: your reclaiming power, because if you were the one who
Speaker 1: betrayed yourself, then you can also be the one who
Speaker 1: saves yourself. You can stop idealizing, You can stop seeking
Speaker 1: validation from someone who doesn't see you as an equal.
Speaker 1: You can start looking at yourself with the same intensity
Speaker 1: you once looked at her, not to harden, not to hate,
Speaker 1: but to awaken because deep down you don't want revenge,
Speaker 1: you don't want punishment. What you truly want is clarity.
Speaker 1: And that clarity begins when you stop searching for answers
Speaker 1: in her shift and begin searching for the reason why
Speaker 1: you gave so much, which without boundaries, when you understand
Speaker 1: that what hurts isn't just her absence, it's the abandonment
Speaker 1: of yourself. That man staring back at you from the
Speaker 1: shattered mirror, the one who no longer knows who he is,
Speaker 1: was not born from her actions. He was born the
Speaker 1: day you stopped respecting yourself, the day you decided she
Speaker 1: was worth more than your peace, your purpose, your vital energy.
Speaker 1: And the only way out of that abyss is in
Speaker 1: through more romance, more hope, or blind faith. It's through truth,
Speaker 1: a truth that burns your eyes if it must, but
Speaker 1: finally lets you see. Because as long as you remain
Speaker 1: sedated by the narrative they fed you, you will continue
Speaker 1: begging for emotional crumbs, believing its love. But that's not love,
Speaker 1: that's dependency, and dependency destroys more souls than rejection ever could.
Speaker 1: And then comes the day when you can no longer
Speaker 1: keep lying to yourself. The day when something inside you
Speaker 1: breaks so violently that no sweet phrases or nostalgic memories
Speaker 1: can hold it together. That's the day you look the
Speaker 1: illusion straight in the eye and realize it wasn't her
Speaker 1: who destroyed you. It was you for dreaming with someone
Speaker 1: who was never dreaming the same dream. Schopenhauer didn't give
Speaker 1: you a blueprint for hatred. He offered you a mirror,
Speaker 1: one that not everyone dares to face, because what it
Speaker 1: reflects is not her. It's you, your need to idealize,
Speaker 1: your desperation to be loved, your chosen blindness. And if
Speaker 1: you can hold that gaze without flinching, without justifying, without fleeing,
Speaker 1: something shifts, something deep, something no one can ever take
Speaker 1: from you. Again. That's real freedom, not the one you
Speaker 1: scream to convince yourself you're fine, not the one you
Speaker 1: pretend in front of others, The kind of freedom born
Speaker 1: from properly lived pain, the kind that emerges when you
Speaker 1: accept that your worth is not defined by whether or
Speaker 1: not she chooses you, loves you, or validates you, that
Speaker 1: your purpose cannot depend on someone else's fluctuating desire, because
Speaker 1: you didn't come into this world to orbit her. You
Speaker 1: came to build your own center, your own kingdom, and
Speaker 1: if a woman walks beside you on that path, let
Speaker 1: it be out of mutual respect, shared vision, and awareness,
Speaker 1: not because you need her to save you from yourself.
Speaker 1: The difference is everything. When you stop idealizing, you stop begging,
Speaker 1: you stop shrinking yourself to fit, you stop negotiating with
Speaker 1: your essence just to be accepted, and finally you reclaim
Speaker 1: something you had given away without realizing your vital energy,
Speaker 1: your presence, your clean, undiluted masculinity, your purpose, free from need.
Speaker 1: And that transformation doesn't require vengeance, it doesn't require resentment.
Speaker 1: It requires truth, the kind of truth that tells you
Speaker 1: that you are not here to be loved as a fantasy,
Speaker 1: but to be respected for who you truly are. And
Speaker 1: if that doesn't happen, if they don't see you, if
Speaker 1: they don't value you, then you must have the courage
Speaker 1: to walk away, not from anger, but from dignity. Because
Speaker 1: you are not a stepping stone, You are not a phase,
Speaker 1: You are not a resource. You are an end in yourself.
Speaker 1: A man who walks firmly, even if he walks alone,
Speaker 1: one who would rather stand in the silence of his
Speaker 1: truth than in the golden prison of an illusion, and
Speaker 1: that choice, though painful at first, is the line that
Speaker 1: separates the conscious man from the emotional child who still
Speaker 1: hopes to be loved. Like in fairy tales, illusion doesn't
Speaker 1: die on its own. It dies when you choose to
Speaker 1: let it go. When you name it, understand it, release it,
Speaker 1: and then your true self emerges, not the one who
Speaker 1: chased validation, not the one who gave blindly, but the
Speaker 1: one who will never again sacrifice his soul for a
Speaker 1: story written by some one else. Now you know, and
Speaker 1: with that knowing, you can't go back. You can't keep
Speaker 1: believing what you've already seen collapse. You can't betray yourself
Speaker 1: by chasing a fantasy that has already shown you its teeth.
Speaker 1: Love is not your enemy. Women are not your enemy.
Speaker 1: The true enemy was the lie you were told and
Speaker 1: chose to believe. But not any more, because now you
Speaker 1: walk with open eyes, a straight spine, and an intact soul,
Speaker 1: not to hate, but to never again abandon yourself. And
Speaker 1: that is the true victory.