I’ve never fallen in love and slowly, but surely I doubt it’s existence. As much as I’d love to find the partner for me, I acknowledge that it seems that I am more of a fan of the chase than anything. I could have the sweetest man in front of me who things the world of me, but if he doesn’t compare or this man or a certain other one, deep down I know nothing will happen. I hate to think that I lead people on, but maybe I do, just for a second or two. Sometimes I lose interest if I know that my feelings are reciprocated; perhaps this is part of my love for pain. I’d love to be happy, but I always loved picking at my scabs more than patiently waiting for them to heal.