The bitch syndrome

I've wrote the book "The bitch syndrome" as a reply to all what was happening into my life.
All being ... real facts, revealed abstractly.
Writing.
And writing.
Defining in fact my frustrations, but most certainly looking like one of the worst misogynist from nowadays times.
The real fact is that ... all i've tried is actually a form of self therapy and the tendency of understanding why relationships don't really work on long term.
Trying to save ... a love story which most certainly will never work again.
But ... keep trying.
Finding explanations.
Blaming ... my woman.
In fact ... my women.
Defining them in 1 million ugly ways ... again and again.
And ... the term "bitch" was the best.
I've really liked it.
Mentioning to all of them on and on and on ... that they are sick ... and should do something to get rid of this "bitch
syndrome".
But ... they ignored me.
Every single day ... being the clear evidence that i was right.
Or ... maybe ... i was just illusory believing that i was right.
But ... meanwhile i was writing, defining in microscopic way all those ugly episodes from the love story.
And ... when someone was telling me that i am wrong ...
cause being a bitch is just a secondary effect ... a reaction at my ugly way of being a lover ... I've really became angry.
Denying it.
Knowing i am perfect.
Knowing i do all into an amazing way ... and there is no way someone could complain about me.
In fact ... like all the other men from this planet.
So ... at least i am honest.
I define my thoughts, feelings and emotions.
Deep inside myself feeling i have the right to protect
myself ... and ...
But ... i am just a writer, which is complaining about his own life.
About his woman.
Trying to fix her.
Not accepting that i have to actually fix myself so that her reactions to change.
So ... all is a vicious circle.
But ... i keep writing.
Analysing.
Defining.
Illusory believing that things will change into better.