A BOYS'-GIRL STORY

Our historic roots of patriarchy and societal conditioning are two obvious culprits for the dominant beguilment of men as the less emotionally gullible gender of our species. Cross gendered individuals are in close contention (at least according to popular opinion within my network of humanoids) with females for what is apparently a highly contested position as victims of emotional inveiglement. I am yet to find a clear cut biological evidence supporting or refuting this rather deeply engrained perception.
This is an epistle of my personal experience with equally stone-cold selfish women, to whom i credit my successful weaning off the beauty and the beast dreams.

Once upon a time I was an energetic, highly spirited teenager, who fell in LOVE with an angel with no wings. Confident and naive, I did everything differently from my peers, like planning half a decade ahead for eternal bliss with my angel in serpent and forbidden fruit free gardens. I was fully committed to avoiding Adams mistake. It was going to be the beginning of a new generation of perfection.

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Little did I know that more than belly crawling reptiles and rotten apples, beer bellied men with deep pockets than most people should be feared. Young me learnt really quickly that butterflies end up in the tummy because larva bored holes in the mind.

A few years down the line, I was healing and decided to forgive love. This time, I met a one winged angel, she was the ride or die kind, but that was everything i didn't want. I couldn't understand how she could be so emotionally invested in uncertainty. I had forgiven love but not forgotten its lessons. I wanted a very ration driven relationship, no blind compromises, no flattery, exaggerated need for companionship etc. but she was yet to get her cold serving of, "fairytales belonged in books". Turned out this time, I was the unfortunate waiter serving this hard learnt lesson. I explained my fears very early into the relationship and let her fly. Nurturing hopes that when the mist of uncertainty clears, we might find each other again. But, you know what they say:

"hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned."

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She wasn't having anything of my philosophical hogwash. So she flew away across oceans and chopped off her wing. Now i had to move on and hopefully find a double winged angel.

Fast forward a few more years, with less attention to sores of my old wounds, I had managed to focus my time and energy to grow a beard, bag some success and exchange body fat for muscle. Women sought to get adventurous with me, but victory for me was in knowing that I was immune to their antics especially when they all seemed like broken angels.

It was at an esoteric event for women in technology within the smart cities sector. I met an outstanding epitome of beauty and the brains. She was everything I couldn't conjure up the words to judiciously describe. My high walls of emotional invincibility that i didn't build off tax payers money were pulverized by each and any of her deed. Like a preying eagle she had locked her crosshair on me from the podium where she just finished delivering her paper and descended with style to sink in her talons.
In the history of man, never before has a prey been so submissive. After a myriad of dates, I found myself back to where I was many years ago as an unsuspecting teenager.

I had grown up owning pet cats, so i knew it was a feline trait to play with their food, but not for a year long. We had fun, until one day she just upped, strapped on her sophisticated portable wings and flew into oblivion.
If you read it till this point, how you feel now is how i felt too. Hopefully, some day the pieces will come together.
I found my double winged angel, but she was off the fallen ones.