I waited all day to hear from him. The hours passed agonizingly slow. I grew tiresome waiting for him to text me. What would I do? Text him, of course. Desperate girl, you look pathetic now. Get a grip! He kindly responded with "I'd love to see you tonight, but I know we'd just end up [insert expletive word here]." I was shocked. That is not what I planned to happen on this fine evening. I just wanted to spend more time getting to know more about him. He seemed so perfect and I wanted to know more. I quickly reiterated that I was not looking for a fling, which he responded with "Bye." Bye? Bye what? Bye, bye blacksheep, have you any fur? Or Bye, Bye, Bye *NSync wannabe telling me to kiss off? It felt like an eternity before he would finally contact me again with that life changing text message.

I was devastated. What had I done wrong? This date was perfect. How could I have misread the signals so incredibly backwards? Obviously the attraction was there. We made out through all of Captain America for goodness sake, though that wasn't really hard. It was a lame movie, I think. I don't know, I wasn't watching, but it was probably pretty lame. This boy had me at hello and completely took advantage of that. He knew that I was very interested in him, mainly because I essentially gave him my ring size (not really, but jeez, I might as well have). I wanted him and I wanted him to want me back.
Mr. Disney would set the tone for the rest of my dating life. I would no longer be that needy girl. I will no longer cling to a guy in hopes that I will end my somber, lonesome life. I am a strong, independent single mother and I don't need a man. I can take care of my children and myself just fine, thank you very much. The moral of the story is too much too soon will push a man away. The next moral of the story is if you ain't giving it up, 9 times out of 10, you ain't getting the man. I guess we've all been there a time or two, but what happened to these love stories I grew up watching? Don't they exist? Tell me they do. I guess Mr. Disney is right. Maybe I'm not "physically attractive" enough to find a man that would want to make me feel special or I guess, in their minds, that's all I'm good for.
"I'll bounce back from this," I continued to tell myself, as I stuffed my face with another pint of Ben & Jerry's. "I'm fine. This didn't phase me. I'm awesome!" Less than a minute later, I'm in the bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably questioning my very existence. And let the pity party begin. Match.com, please find me a man! I'm desperate!
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