The ordeal started in 2010. This is the longest post I’ve ever made on Reddit. I’m spilling all my beans. I’ve had previous LTR’s, and they’ve never been this bad. This is the one that has converted me.

I’ll preface by saying I work in retail/catering/janitorial services in remote northern locations (think oil wells, mines, hydro dams, etc.). In this particular instance, the closest town is about 500km (300 freedom units). The work is 35 days straight of 10-12 hours days followed by 8 days off. So in the space of one year I’ll double (maybe more) the amount of hours a regular 9-5 five day a week joe blow will complete. The salary comes with it too, so the ends justify the means I guess.

People who are not use to the isolation, and certainly younger folks, have a hard time adapting and normally stay for the summer just to get their budgets back into the black. The rest quit after their first run up north never to set foot in a remote location again. It really isn’t meant for anyone, basically a mix of prison and army I guess. Another job dominated by men (95-5 ratio) since the cushy luxury of cities is nowhere to be found. Also, women hate the cold. I guess the mucus hole they have is not suited to -60C + wind chill weather. But I digress…

I had been single for almost 5 years and returned to live at my folks’ home piling money into retirement savings plans, first house fund etc. I might have been a late bloomer as I returned to my folks’ home at 26 after leaving the family nest at 18 and having many a drug problem (that’s a whole other story, but I’ve been drug free since then and now alcohol free and soon cigarette free next week). At around the three or four year mark of this particular jobsite, I hired a new waitress for our diner (I work in management). After six months of work she left saying northern work locations, the hours and the time away from home was too hard.

A month or so later, I get a Facebook PM from her asking if I’d like to go out on a date. Things escalated quickly and we entered into a LTR. I moved out of my parents’ home two months later and into her place. Already, I had to make concessions on the house fund as she had nothing. No computer, a cathode TV (in 2010!!!), no sound system, no cable or internet, a shit bed and a whole bunch of other missing things normal people had. I didn’t suspect anything but the fact she held shitty jobs and never invested in her home and living space for comfort as well as being 5 years my junior. Fast forward two years, things are still going great. She’s has premature multiple orgasms, still get BJ’s, swallows, anal (with a douche obviously), ATM and VTM between positions, I’m thinking I’ve hit gold. In exchange I’ve taken on more responsibility around the home (both financially and physically) when I’m there and we’re now living comfortably in an 800sq.ft apartment. We even acquired a Russian blue cat called. Friends are coming over for suppers, activities and everything seems honky dory. She suggests we move and find a place to buy instead of renting. I’m thinking this is it. I am gonna have a wife and kids soon. But surprise surprise, this is where shits starts to go downhill.

So financially, she has zilch and I’m sitting on 25,000 CAD cash for a home. Not bad for the 5% required, but I had imagined getting the full 20% in order to save on fees that run up into the 10’s of thousands added to the mortgage (Kanukia, amirite?). I convince her to go to the bank and get a budget done so she can borrow as much money for the RRSP RAP (Canadian first home buyer program using RRPS). This way we can have the 20% on a good home and have enough for repairs, refurnish and the likes. After a couple frustrating (and embarrassing) meetings the bank concludes that she can put 9000$ into an RRSP 90 days before the purchase of the home in order to have a cash down. The meetings were hell, the first time she asked for 25,000$ and was refused outright. You lads know what happens when a woman gets refused something… ohh the huffin’ and puffin’. I was embarrassed at the bank and called back that afternoon to apologize I felt so bad. But I’m getting off topic again.

We start looking for homes. Non-frugal as I may be (I like my toys) I still know how to count. Municipal taxes, notary, cost of home, utilities and the asides of owning a home like a pool, gardens, etc. are no fuckin’ joke. And I set a budget I’m comfortable with on this new home. Wow… the mask fell off completely. A monster emerged when we sat down and I told her 200,000 with a max tax and utility of 5,500 a year is what we can comfortably afford. Holy shit… I got the silent treatment for at least two weeks while I was up north (great for me, I played online games at the time, I could of cared less). But I also got it when I came down for days off where we had to visit potential homes and I refused to even visit anything above that mark for the next three months. You know what it’s like, you fall in love with something you want and you make concessions to get it then you’re stuck with the payments and regret it. It got worse though.

An opportunity arose in that very moment. Her sister was looking for a place. After some discussion and the pricing when considering a 400$ a month rent from her sister, I upped my allowable budget to 250,000 and 6,500. Things got somewhat better, we found a quaint home and bought it (1000sqft main floor & 10,000 sqft property). Moved in and things were looking on the up and up. The routine settled in and a year and a half flew by. Getting less and less sex and more and more honeydew lists when I got back on days off. I saw more and more pictures of her and her friends partying, even on weekdays on her feeds. She decided that waiting tables and working at catering companies was no longer for her and started courses in insurance sales. And then started borrowing money, and started doing cocaine (I didn’t know about the drugs until after when her sister fessed up to everything she had done though). That lasted about three months. When I confronted her about going back to waiting tables, again the mask fell of and the monster emerged. This time the next turn around, she told me we were breaking up. The turn around after that we sat down to calculate how we’d split things up. Turns out she still hadn’t paid the taxes with the 400$ a month he sister was giving her in the last two years we had been living there. Our house was to be repo’d in a month, I paid that off the next morning. She still owes me money to this day. The weird thing is she just accepted the bill I split up fairly and left with her shit. Two weeks later she’s in Honduras with the proprietor of the catering company she was working for previously and later strutting around in a BMW I7 or on his 35’ sail boat. Classic tree swinging right there gents. That’s when I learnt of Hypergamy, Briffault’s law, TRP, MGTOW etc. etc. etc.. I’ve been a lurker for a while to say the least.

I learn later through her sister with which I still have a friendship with that she had cheated on me from the onset of the house purchase with two other “women” and slept with the old man at the end of our relationship. She’s recently been dumped by the millionaire with boats and 3 houses for stealing and lying and drug use. She came crying to my mother of all people, who told her to go get help. She did, she has diagnosed with severe Borderline Personality disorder. Makes sense now… Doesn’t excuse her actions, but it makes sense.

This is 3 years ago in 1 week. Never again. Never MGTOW. Not even pump and dumps. I now call them parasites. They suck time, energy and life right out your urethrae. That’s their modus operandi.

Also motorcycle season is starting in Canada so it’s a nice time of the year for me!!!

Sorry if this was long, and also a little unorganized. I was never great at English or the tenses because it isn’t my first language.