What hurts me the most is not that women don’t want to have sex with me nor is it the fact they do not want to date me – it is the intense feeling of wanting someone who scarcely understands that I exist.
The longing glance met with the quick diversion of eyes.
The confessional ballad met with polite rejection.
The burning desire met with … nothing.
You see, what hurts the most has never been that women don’t love me; I’ve understood that for a long time.
What hurts the most is that I can never seem to stop loving them.