I was a conquerer to the core, to the point where ten years later, a man named his baby (with another women) after my male alter ego, I've had songs and even entire albums (and one double-album) written about me and how I broke hearts, and three guys got shit that I drew tattooed on their arms, and I'm a really shitty artist. None of them were someone I agreed to commit to for more than a couple months; some I never committed to at all; some I was not even that physical with. I did what and who I want, threw them out, won power games and allowed them to "seduce me" at my convenience. I hardly ever told anyone off - unless they were in my way. (I hit and yelled at one guy because he kept showing up at my parents' house and insisting he loved me at 2am, for instance.) I was just too damn selfish to deal with his crap. I have never lied or cheated or been unclear; I was straight up about my terms and what my intentions were. The way I saw it back then, if they wanted more, that's not my problem because I was honest, so they can cry themselves to sleep all they want but I won't feel remorse for their bad choices. I'm not proud or happy about any of this but that is what a SX 8 looks like when they're unhealthy.
I got dumped once, by someone I really liked, more than anyone else I'd ever liked. I was absolutely infatuated but we weren't "official" and he ended it anyway. This was the first time I ever got dumped or didn't "win." He told me, " I think we should be friends," and I said, "Okay." He kept apologizing, crying, asked me to stay the night. I stayed the night & got what I wanted, but did not protest or show any emotion. There was no way I'd "let him win" by showing emotion. In the morning he stepped out to get cigs and I left without a word. Then he groveled for another 2 years trying to get my attention back, which he ultimately did, more than I wanted to admit; and when I thought he had too much "power over me" I told him that I'd be up for a commitment, which I had never wanted before. He said he couldn't commit. We kept playing music together (we were in a band at that point) but we weren't physical anymore. I moved to the city a couple months later, to do my own music and get away from him. I wrote a bunch of songs and sang about it, and he was a great musician; but I finished my album first. He was so upset that he "wasn't doing anything with his life" and I felt a sense of revenge because I did it first and I did it without him. Part of me felt bad, because he's sweet, and I want him to do something with his music, but a bigger part of me felt satisfied that I "won." He showed mild interest after that but I was done. I'd gotten a sense of triumph and I had no more interest; I wish him the best.