If she’s bat‑shit crazy, the process changes: you simply thank god you’re unshackled, drown in pussy, and repeat. The point of game is not to become a bitter misanthrope but to become a better, more refined man. Resentment is a refining fire; it hurts, but it files down jagged corners and shapes you into the kind of man who can dominate his environment instead of being dominated by his past.