You’re undoubtedly familiar with He’s Just Not That Into You, Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo’s 2004 New York Times bestseller and the basis for a 2009 film of the same name. Aimed at single women, the point of the book is that if the guy you’re into isn’t making any effort to pursue you, it means – that’s right – he’s just not that into you. It might sound defeatist, but it’s actually an empowering no-excuses plan for cutting romantic dead weight. That guy you’ve been talking to, who isn’t really talking back? He probably isn’t getting over a painful breakup. He’s not shy, or unused to communicating via instant messaging platforms. You aren’t going to bring him out of his shell. Stop wasting your own time.

It’s time for a sequel, though: A self-help book aimed at guys who are pursing similarly disinterested women. In fact, I suspect that this pursuit is much more widespread – certainly more insidious – than the one addressed in the aforementioned book. If you’re a woman, you’ve almost certainly experienced the phenomenon I’m about to describe, and if you’re a guy you’ve undoubtedly perpetrated it. I know I have.  Maybe you’ve done so without realizing you were being an exasperating, bothersome troglodyte, or maybe you’ve done so deliberately, for the purposes of annoying, invalidating, or otherwise breaking a woman who didn’t show you the obeisance you felt you were owed.

I’m talking about sending a woman a message – typically flirty, sometimes sexual, often while trying to arrange a hookup or while lubing up prior to a fun evening of masturbation – but receiving no reply, and then waiting a day, a week, or a month and doing it again. Same woman, same circumstances, maybe even the same introductory message.

(“Hey beautiful”, “Thinking of u”, and “Sup” are relatively uninspired examples of the category, even when sent to someone with whom you’ve got an established “messaging relationship”, i.e. this is not the first time you’ve exchanged messages. Unless you’re attracted to much different women than I, you may find greater success if you endeavor to use complete sentences and correct punctuation, or at the very least more than one syllable.)

Can you see where I’m going with this, fellas? The subject of your ardor didn’t fail to reply because her DMs are turned off. Her phone isn’t on silent because she’s been in church nonstop for the last several weeks. She hasn’t downgraded to a late ’90s flip phone to save money. She’s just not that into you. Of course, because your message was predicated not by a desire for a stable, give-and-take relationship but by the need to see a picture of her tits so you could get off, you’re far less likely to heed my advice than readers of Behrendt and Tuccillo’s book the next time you’re on the verge of typing out another likely-to-be-ignored message.

In fact, as the title of this hypothetical book, may I suggest She’s Just Not That Into You (But You’re Going to Pursue and Annoy Her Anyway)? Because most guys are somewhat obtuse, and coupled with the male entitlement most of us are raised to believe is simply correct behavior, I see no reason to believe that the male collective is actually going to be helped by such a self-help book.

This book would adopt a similar no-excuses approach as the earlier one, but I hope you’re into tough love because there’s going to be a lot of that as well:

Seriously, why would you even think she’s into you? You, with your negligible hygiene, your all-encompassing misanthropy, your unwavering dedication to archaic gender roles, and your complete lack of ambition save your eight-hour-a-day Overwatch regimen. Did you think she’d be charmed by your tendency to say six semi-polite words before steering the conversation toward sex in the most explicit terms imaginable? Or was it the way you flaunt your feminist cred by insisting your dates pay their own way that you thought would win her over? I’m not saying that no woman in the world is interested in the same things you are, nor am I saying that the stench of Axe Body Spray commingling with the smell of fetid sweat couldn’t possibly be the mouthwatering aroma of romance to someone; what I am saying, however, is that if you find yourself involuntarily celibate, maybe you should do better.

Men are basically flannel shirts in the 1990s. We have flooded the market to the point that women don’t need to grab the first one that comes along. To further the economics parallel, men are poorly manufactured, and not always functional as advertised. Producers (i.e. men) must improve their product (themselves) in order to increase consumer confidence, and with it, demand. At the very least, a drastic change in marketing strategy is called for.

The average woman can theoretically take her pick of dozens of guys, many of whom can form coherent, grammatically-correct sentences, exhibit something akin to feminist values without once using the word “feminist”, correctly operate soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and deodorant; come up with better first-date ideas than “smoke weed and watch Netflix at your place”, and take decent selfies featuring pants that are (a) on and (b) buttoned and zipped up. Which is not necessarily to say you’re a creep or otherwise undesirable. It’s just that she’s looking at a stack of job applications submitted by guys who have more to offer than you do.

Maybe your personalities don’t quite click. You’re a cat person and she prefers dogs. She doesn’t like guys with your eye color. You live two subway transfers and a bus ride from her apartment. Your sexting game isn’t as on-point as the other guy she’s been talking to. She doesn’t view your in-law apartment in your parents’ basement as conducive to romance. Your casual but virulent racism and misogyny are deal-breakers.

Alternatively, maybe she isn’t writing back to you because she is overwhelmed by a barrage of horrible male behavior including but not limited to rape threats in retaliation for daring to have a career in literally any field, being called “bitch” and “cunt” for failing to reply to DMs, gaslighting, slut-shaming, victim-blaming, doxxing, the wage gap, and so many unsolicited cock shots that she could launch an internet startup called Cock Shots ‘R’ Us. It’s not all your doing; these things likely come from a variety of despicable avenues, but your overbearing, pestering need to have your existence validated by someone who may be working harder than you can fathom on a daily basis to validate her own might be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

Either way, her silence signals that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. Maybe it’s temporary and she’ll be back, but maybe not. She doesn’t owe you an explanation, but if you’re so dependent on the illusion of being the center of the universe that you won’t be able to sleep tonight without one, roll a twenty-sided die and choose from the following:

1-5 She and her significant other have reconciled.
6-10 She’s given up social media for religious reasons.
11-15 She’s in a tunnel and has no phone signal.
16-20 She hates you and is fucking your brother.

The bottom line is that you need to shake your feelings of entitlement and do a better job reading between the lines: If the last few weeks (or longer) worth of messages have been sent exclusively by you, give it up already; she’s moved on. (If the “messaging relationship” is in its relative infancy, replace “weeks” with “days”.) And it’s probably best that you delete the conversation in order to properly resist temptation.  She doesn’t have to come right out and tell you that she doesn’t want to talk to you; most women avoid such direct confrontation out of fear of reprisal.  I know, I know – you’re “one of the good guys”, you’d never verbally abuse her or post her personal information and pictures on Reddit, #notallmen, and whatever else.  I hear you.  But you can’t really expect her to take that at face value, can you?

If she wants to talk sex with you – or the weather, or sports, or movies – she’ll let you know; the ball is entirely in her court. So knock it the fuck off.