I wasn't attracted her, but she was friendly flirt. I tried to keep my distance, but she asked for my number. We met up a couple of weeks later at party. We then went back to my place, where we're drunk and she strips down. It stops there and we pass out. Next time I see her she tells me she doesn't remember the night.

We go out for coffee several times. Deep conversations with no escalation and serious comfort. Obviously, I'm friendzoned. Why did all my female relationships lead there? Because I grew up fatherless. So I learned after taking the Redpill. I grew in a third world country. I've seen rough and done worse. But with women I was always so soft. Always the white knight.

I learned more about her- the abuse, drug problems, abandoment, eating disorder, broken home, and 100+ drunken sex partners. She mirrors me. She may be bi-polar, and she may have borderline personality disorder. She has her orbiters, but I'm the best? We go out together several times in mixed groups and alone. She throws out mixed signals. Sometimes she plays with my hair and makes out, and sometimes she won't let me touch her. I lose control of myself, and I don't know what's going on. I do little things for her. She admits she likes to use people. She jokes that she might be using me. I doing things I don't want to do with her. I buy her drugs. I'm doing drugs, driving drunk and back to smoking. I'm losing control of my life. Her influence is taking over me. All because I want her. Stop.

I cut off all contact on a good note. Two months later she contacts me again. Her texts are peppered with "hey stranger" and "hey you." We agree to meet again. Her place for drinks. She tells me that she's quit the drugs and sorting out her life. She says she's seeing two other men. She kinos me and I try to stay nonreactive. She's bad for me, but addictive. We get drunk and she jumps me and we start making out. She takes off her shirt. An instant later she turns cold. Cold to touch, cold to words. I should have mirrored the cold, but I ended up burning the white knight. I failed as a human being. I was frustrated, confused, and drunk. I became angry. I raised my voice and my hand. I didn't hit her, but I pushed her around. Hard. I left her with bruises. I had never done that to a women, and I will never do it again. I felt the disgust inside me. I let it pour out. I told her she was bad, and screamed for her to better. I cared about her. But the world doesn't work that way. She hugged me goodbye when I left. Her other orbiters blew up my phone with death threats. I've had serious death threats at various points in my life. But it's never been over a women. Listening to the threats was like a throwback to the old me. Pathetic. My actions expressed the weakness inside me. It expressed the wickedness too. The heart of every white knight is black. My shroud is burned and I can never go back.