I Bring Only Sadness Upon Myself

"You really are a hard one to impress."

Is that all too true? Certainly, I would hope not; I merely seek one thing of the boy: that he prove me wrong about the universal thought of males. For you see, being a realist, I held an almost lowly regard for all and refused, absolutely refused, to let my kneed buckle at the slightest glance.

In the recent past, I'm glad to say that I have not been broken by the selfish, lascivious ways of the majority of men. Until I, as I would like to believe, met one who has proven me wrong. Kind, gentle, compassionate, with an edginess that fortifies his self, what more can I ask of a gentleman?

Nothing, right?

This is where my cousin's statement mentioned at the beginning comes into play. Surely his gallant manner should be enough to dissuade me from self-imposed homosexuality. I believed it so. Until my one question is his simple answer illuminated one obvious factor that I chose to ignore: he's a guy. Of course, he is a much better one that most, making realize that there are those who are essentially better than the dumb majority.

And what kills me is the following statement that my inner self found it troublesome to mention: but he has not proven you wrong about the nature of men. As I've said before, he's a guy.

And I realize the reality of it all; nothing can be done to change the natural state of masculinity. Nothing I can do, that is. No amount of complaining, no amount of tears at night will change that one aspect that makes men men. Why is it then so impossible for me to just accept it? To just, basically, lower my standards in order to include at least one male into consideration instead of leaving myself in complete emotional and physical celibacy?

I don't know. Perhaps this will all blow over with a good night's rest and some soul-numbing alcohol.