As a kid, Christmas is an exciting time. You look forward to this great magical day when Mr. Fat fuck in his red suit squeezes his ass down a chimney and unloads a horde of presents under your sparkly little tree. There's no reason Santa does this, he just comes around every year to do fantastic magic things for you.
On Christmas day, you eagerly run down the stairs to find fat-ass has devoured some milk and cookies. He's also left you presents! You keenly open them up to see what the elves have made for you. If it's an american home it's usually a pile of overpriced shit so lil Johnny can brag to his friends how much Santa digs him.
You thank Santa and his Red balled reindeer for travelling around the world to give you gifts and then go about the day bouncing off the walls on your Christmas high. Your mind is filled with endless wonder about the North Pole, trees, socks and diabetes.
Then you start to get a little bit older. A little more skeptical. You realize you don't even have a fuckin chimney. Slowly the curtain starts to get pulled down on this magical fantasy, it doesn't quite make as much sense as it used to. One fine day your parents sit you down and drop a bombshell. They tell you that Fatty McFatfuck isn't real.
You don't want to believe it. Hearing your worst fears confirmed hurts like hell. It stings to think that it was just your parents pulling the wool over your eyes. There is no Red Nosed flying reindeer, there isn't even any elves. Just some 12 year old in Pakistan working 16 hours a day so you could tear open presents.
Christmas is never the same again. You'll never wake up again with that same fantasy fueled excitement, filled with hope and wonder as to what this Christmas brings. Now, well, it's just Christmas. A standard day, doing standard things, rooted firmly in reality. You still enjoy Christmas, who wouldn't, it has many enjoyable aspects, but the magic is gone.
Swallowing the Red Pill is a very similar experience. You live with these grandiose visions of women and love. You grow up thinking there's a soulmate, your very own unicorn waiting out there just for you. Someday you will meet them , time will slow down, doves will fly out of your asshole, you'll fornicate under the stars and love each other until the end of time.
Then you start interacting with women. You realize it's not quite as fairy tale like as you thought, there isn't even doves. You get a bit more skeptical, you start to see some gaping holes in your fantasy. You're chivalrous and honorable, protective and brave, yet you're not the prince she desires. She'd rather have Todd the butler with the bulging biceps, who glazes her face and never returns her calls.
You log onto the Red Pill and they confirm your worst fears, unconditional loving fairies aren't real. It hurts and it stings and you're angry. There is no soulmate princess who's gonna come and kiss your froggy balls. Woman aren't the soft fluffly little bunnies you thought they were. She doesn't even love you for you, she only loves what you offer.
Once you've seen the other side there's no going back. Just as you can't ever believe that some bearded buffoon is coming on a sleigh to deliver you presents, you can never believe in your soulmate, or virtuous women who love your dear old personality.
You'll never love women the same way again, just like you'll never love Christmas the same way. You know full well that every woman you meet's love is contingent on your behavior.
There's no peaks of infatuation like you had before, when you thought you had found "the one". When you thought your love was unconditional and could last forever. Reality can never compete with fantasy. Your experiences with women will forever be tainted by the truths you now know.
This may seem like a dampener, hell, sometimes even I wish I could just go back to being blind for a bit, and truly experience blissfully ignorant love like I did before. The highs were great. The lows were pretty damn low too though. When you don't know why what works works you usually cock it up somewhere along the line and every thing comes crashing down in a ball of tears, tissues and wankathons.
What you have now though is power. Once the Red anal suppository takes hold you'll never experience the highs like they were, you'll experience reality. You'll experience content and comfort, you'll make peace with the world as it is. Most importantly you'll experience power.
When your expectations are congruent with reality, you are able to shape reality. You'll know what to do to make it work for you and when it doesn't you'll know why. Your joy will be for what is, not what could be or should be, and eventually that will be all you know and it will be enough. There's a day that Santa/Fantasies died for all of us and instead in his place we just have Christmas/Truth. Make peace with it, enjoy it and have a merry fucking Christmas.