From the original article on December 14, 2016. Author: Chateau Heartiste.
Love is the alibi of neediness, and neediness is the accomplice of love. The two are rarely without each others’ company, yet they are an irascible, codependent pairing of old friends that would do one another a lot of good if they were separated and communicating via time-delayed diary entries.
It’s a short hop from self-directed purpose to neediness. A dash of neediness seasons the motivational stew, but too much spoils it right quick. We all know variants on the aphorisms “the hungry wolf gets fed last”, “we want what we can’t have”, and “women love a challenge”.
All true, and it’s why one of the first instructions at CH was to implore beta males to shore up their inner game by banishing the specter of neediness.
But beta males aren’t the only victims of crippling neediness, and it’s important that those who tend to gather their life lessons from the ego chamber internet instead of from the human world
The CH Neediness Scale, from most needy to least needy:
My chart is borne out in the real world, where it is common to see (and commonly agreed upon) that sexless men (blue pilled betas and blue balled omegas) are the neediest creatures, often sabotaging any chances they get in the dating market by chasing too soon and crashing too hard when their lust-love isn’t immediately and similarly reciprocated.
But then things get interesting. The next neediest group is the loveless women. Iconic representatives include your Wall-imminent single sex and the city ladies, your BPD headcases, your lonely fatties and fuglies, and your cock accumulating slut machines. Women over the long-run value love more than sex, give or take a few breathless moments getting buried under a tingle avajanche. The woman who is a loser in love (no matter how many cocks she’s coitally collared) will get more bitter, unfeminine, and emotionally damaged as the years grind her down. See: Amanjaw Marcuntte. There’s a lot of rueing in spinster nation.
The second to least needy group is the sexless women. Unwilling sexlessness — or what we in the caulk-gine community call incel — is rare among non-obese women of non-autistic child-bearing age. If a healthy, height-weight proportionate young woman wants sex badly, she can get it. She may not like the morning-after feeling, but that’s the sort of long-term thinking about accountability and consequences which the airier sex is ill-equipped to undertake. Therefore, actual involuntary sexless women who are worth sexing are rare, but they do exist; usually though their sexlessness has at its source, not a personal failing that turns off men, but an exquisitely conjured mental image of the perfect man that prevents the sexless woman from ever conceding her cooch to any man who falls short of her fantasy by even a cat’s whisker. The sexless woman can tolerate her condition for quite a while longer than can the sexless man, which is why she’s not often prone to the sort of self-sabotaging theatrics that are the desperately horny beta male’s stock in trade.
Finally, the least needy of the neediness groups is the loveless man. A CH maxim would serve us well here:
Maxim #80: For women, sex is validation of love. For men, love is validation of sex.
Sex validates that a woman loves a man, and that a man loves her. Women give their sex because they feel in love with a man. Or they give their sex because they want a man to fall in love with them. One night stands aren’t the hard exceptions you’d think, either. The same internal bargaining exists whenever a woman presents her most valuable asset for purchase. Inversely, women are susceptible to thinking that a man who fucks them must also love them, which is true enough to sustain their delusions.
Love validates that a man desires a woman’s sex, and that a woman sexually desires him in kind. Men give their love because they have fallen in love with a woman they love fucking. Or men give their love because they want a woman to keep giving them sex. Inversely, men are susceptible to thinking that a woman who loves them must also want to fuck them, which is true enough to sustain their delusions.
The scone code truth is that men who swim in pussy can go a LONG time without love, and not feel any ill-effects from it. Love is the perfect transcendence from the banal, and every man is more a romantic than the average woman, but unlike women for whom love is notarization of their self-worth and a green light on a future together, men receive their external validation primarily from internal penetration. Any validation of a man’s sexuality is already complete by the time penis is waylaid in vagina. Love, after that, is icing on the pound cake of a cad’s leavened ego.
Still, sexually fulfilled men can become love-parched; one sometimes sees this in aging players who never settled down and have lots of war stories with which to console themselves during bouts of fleeting loneliness. And however good the pussy is, love makes it that much better. In this way love injects meaning into all the sex the womanizer enjoys, by adding an extra layer of limbic fluffing. A sexed man feels on top of women; a loved man feels on top of the world. Furthermore, the loved man gains a sense of security over his sexual destiny, knowing that his penis is craved by the woman who loves him as a nearly divine object of spiritual commingling and a meaty medium of soulful consummation.
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