I'm not saying it's your fault.

Now is the time as usual to walk out in to the night and be fabulously beautiful and break some hearts to get on top of the game again. Walk on in this war called infatuation. Don’t look over your shoulder on all the collateral damage; don’t look back on the piles of broken hearts. Keep your eyes on the road ahead – the road to more disappointments, the road to more unanswered feelings. And inevitably to more destructive behavior, more alcohol, more cigarettes and coquette smiles to snare those who might make you feel temporarily better. Numb your feelings; escape from reality, the night has all those things I like. Numb the feelings to escape the prison of obsession they create. You don’t want to become a De Clérambault. Black eyes, high heels, an aura of destructive charm radiating out from that piece of sexiness. Not many resist it, but it’s not what you’re ultimately looking for. It’s just a way of feeding self-confidence to feel better about all the rejections. What will it say on your page in the history book? Oh, on mine it will say: “She had upon her a curse of rejection, which rendered her chances of catching Prince Charming irrevocably hopeless.”