Alright. Fine.
To make a short story even shorter, "Dream-Girl" as I called her, doesn't care about me. I don't know this for certain; how would anyone know anyway? But sometimes, it just hurts to hope.
You see, I think ladies have this dance programmed into them. When they like someone, they're NOT SURE about it. So they poke and prod and experiment. The most natural way to experiment is to merely test both sides of the water. What is this guy like when I'm flirting with him? What is he like when I'm totally rejecting his pathetic pleas for companionship? I hereby vow with the deepest rites of womanhood that this man will follow and dote upon me no matter how I treat him, whether it be leading him on or shooing him away, or by my holy feminine word he is not worthy!
Or some other completely retarded crap. Just HOW hardwired are they? Is it worth it to try and wait for a girl that isn't going to run tests on me? Some nice chick who won't immediately resort to treating me like a lab rat? All I want to know is if girls like that even exist.
And what about a girl who talks to me first? Someone with a little boldness, or surety. That would be awesome. Unfortunately that kind of thing too closely resembles the problem with time-travel; she would have appeared by now. Unless she just doesn't know I exist. That would be excusable.
But I guess it's worth it sometimes, to play their games. Believe me, a woman would have to be beyond amazing in order to escape that behavior.
With what's going on now it's kind of hard for me to say that it's more about me than it is about other people. And... I've recently discovered that it's not really like me to really care about myself anyway. It's something I conditioned myself to pretend to do in order to avoid depression. Every time I say something about myself, every time I play myself up, it's kind of more of a joke than actual annoying self-esteem. Take it from me, it works. I haven't been REALLY depressed since I started doing it. But I worry that I might be missing out on something, or that people don't ever get to see the real me. All they see is my clever spunk. For someone who's so preoccupied on the importance of being genuine, I sure can get phony sometimes. But... it kind of is me, I suppose. In the very least it's my own way of keeping myself afloat. Everybody has those, right? I could try to shed it off and see if I feel any more real, but that's a frightening thing to do.
Anyway. Let's see, I've complained about romance, delved into my own psychology (and I'm probably only kind of close to right about it), and promised myself progress. So I guess there's not much else to say here, is there?
