There is the Played and the Playing

We have sex and she freaks out.

I shut down emotionally and verbally. Not in a sullen hurt way, but with a resigned acceptance that suggests I've seen this before and it is petulant nor will I invest my emotional energy in drawing an explanation out of her.

She says we should continue with the plan for the night.
I debate just leaving and calling her bluff but realize this is an opportunity.
For whatever bizarre reason, this is my favorite kind of girl on some level whether I like to admit it or not.
We get up to leave and I walk ahead not waiting for her. I shake my thoughts out and take a brief moment to recompose and shake off her emotional toxicity to prepare for an awkward car ride.

We drive in silence to our destination.
She explains her behavior, something I had no way of knowing from her past (of course, isn't it always?)

There's always a sad story to explain with this type of girl.
Her default status is sad and hurt and bruised.

Fortunately, I have prior experience with this type.
They are by far the most dangerous.
They slip in with this girlish cuteness and ferociously subtle femininity which is utterly disarming.

They get inside, past the defenses, and they go to work like a gremlin absolutely wreaking havoc with your insides and they are not pleased until they have reduced you to the emotional mess they are inside.

They trace your hand with their tiny fingers, they weakly grab the back of your neck while you fuck them, they encourage you to lead them, but ultimately they are man breakers always wanting to be chased but resenting the man who gives chase. They are maddening in every sense of the motherfucking word. They are almost NEVER long term attainable or manageable.

The very, very, very subtle ones get past my defenses and trigger a very strong reaction in my core state, which only with a TON of practice have I learned to conceal with a large extent.

The last 2 girls I dated since separating have been like her, and she makes 3 in a row.  I am clearly developing an emotional type. I make a note to examine this later.

I don't bite and ask why or what happened, just simply that if she's going to act like that, I don't appreciate it and that she should consider how she'd react as I not so subtly reinforce the idea that I will leave and not put up with this shit.

We arrive and the light reflects on the build up of tears in her eyes. I take her in my arms, and we don't speak much. We dance for a time, then she spends the other half the time dancing with a guy.

She comes back over to me and there's 10 minutes left before the end of the night, and she asks me to dance but I refuse. I don't explain but simply tell her that if she wants to spend most of the time at a venue with other men, she can do that on her own. She sits down and pouts. She takes my hand.

Part of me should be not pissed because we slept together earlier.
Part of me should be pissed because I feel disrespected and if I tolerate this behavior it will reoccur.
Part of me should be pissed because she has drawn me into her emotionally chaotic world and fucked up my internal state and though she is crafty, I allowed it to happen.
Part of me is pissed because if I tolerate it, it will reoccur. Part of me is pissed because if I don't handle this motherfucking test expertly it will fucking metastasize and I'll face it in another form or capacity very, very, very motherfucking soon.

I stop and ask myself if I got played...and if I have to ask, I know that on some level if not utterly outright I was getting played.

We drive back to my place and though she holds my hand it feels like death and disappointment and like failure. The mask has slipped. I've seen her true nature, finally, ultimately, in all its unpleasant glory like some physical manifestation of irony.
She is good. I have to give her credit. She is very, very, very fucking good at the short game.
I reassert my need to polish my higher level game and to revisit how I've come so close to 3 of these girls in a row.

We text briefly while I'm out on this other date, but she does not reply to my last text.
I set my mind to not text again until she does.
She texts me in the morning because she needs something.
I wait and reply but lace it with my having been out with a female friend last night. A female friend I had not mentioned before, and I say it knowing she will remember a conversation we had recently about why I don't have many female friends.

Additional Reading on this girl and her type