What's that saying? Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. That's it. This should be tattooed across my forehead when it comes to boys.

It's not that I'm a stupid girl. I don't make dumb decisions on a daily basis. I'm not out on the street corner smoking crack out of a broken lightbulb. So why is it that I can't seem to tell the difference between a guy and a complete douche bag? Wait, that's not even the problem, because I am aware that they are douche bags about thirty seconds into meeting them. The problem is I still continue to get sucked down the rabbit hole into their world of ridiculousness.

I am going to be completly honest. Part of me likes the whole ordeal. I like being treated like shit, because on those rare occassions that he actually is decent it makes it all the more sweet. I use these times, which are few and far between to justify that this guy actually does care for me, he just doesn't know how to express his emotions. Plus I'm a sucker for guys lying to me. In the real world I can spot a liar a mile away, but throw in a few pheromones and a guy could tell me he invented twitter and I would believe him. I'm slightly embarressed by my inability to filter out douche bags. In fact I'm the complete opposite. It's as if I am a magnet that attracks all sorts of losers. I could be in a room filled with 50 available guys. 49 of these guys could be nice, funny genuienly decent human beings, and I will sure enough ignore all of them to spend time with the one asshole in the room.

I look back at the last ten years of my life and all the guys are the same, just with different faces and names. I have played this game so many times that by now I just expect it to not work out in the end.

That's not to say that it still doesn't hurt when it does fall through. That's the part that most people don't get. I think they just see the positive in the fact I'm not wasting time with a loser anymore. But what they don't see is that I was emotionally invested in that person. Loser or not, I cared, and I don't have a switch that can automatically turn off those emotions.

So as I was sitting in pilates tonight, thinking all of this, it just hit me like a ton of bricks. The thought of going through this again was too much for me. I all of a sudden missed him, and I didn't know that I cared that much for him until the moment I knew that it was over. And I knew that it was. There was nothing said, nothing done, I just knew. I wished then and there that I could be enough, that we could work out. I wished that he could actually mean all the things he has said to me. I wished that I could keep him forever. I didn't want to be another face in a sea of girls to him, I wanted him to think of me differently. I wanted him to care, I wanted him to know that I cared.

But it doesn't matter what I want.

What's done is done.