Brothers
You want to stand up and hit her. You want her to feel the pain that is churning inside of you. But you restrain yourself and stand calmly up, walking out of the room without a look back.
In the following weeks you find yourself in a deep depression, and it all stems from Kate's betrayal. Questions of insecurity are constantly floating about the surface of your hear. Was it something you did, something you said? Were you not good enough? Were you a poor performer in bed? What is it about you that causes people to despise you?
You regret not saying anything to her.
Months go by and you have become less fixated on your own short comings, but still find yourself unable to hold a decent conversation with a female. Every time a woman starts talking to you, you find those old questions resurfacing and plaguing your conscious. If your life were a cartoon, you would be running away from villainous women with your jaw dropped open and your tongue wiggling as you scream.
You completely absorb yourself in your studies, so much so that you often find yourself still doing work when the rest of the class has exited the room.
One afternoon you look up from your notes to find your professor staring down at you. You look around to find the room empty. It is only you and the middle aged man tonight.
"Paul," he says. "I know why you're here. You don't have to sit through class all day staring at me like that and pretending to be absorbed in your work. I get it. You're attracted to me. It's a reasonable thing to happen. I have to admit you are pretty handsome yourself."
"What?" You say, pushing back in your chair. "No, I-"
"Listen," Professor Hornsby says, putting a hand on your leg. "It's okay. No one is going to judge you here."
In the following weeks you find yourself in a deep depression, and it all stems from Kate's betrayal. Questions of insecurity are constantly floating about the surface of your hear. Was it something you did, something you said? Were you not good enough? Were you a poor performer in bed? What is it about you that causes people to despise you?
You regret not saying anything to her.
Months go by and you have become less fixated on your own short comings, but still find yourself unable to hold a decent conversation with a female. Every time a woman starts talking to you, you find those old questions resurfacing and plaguing your conscious. If your life were a cartoon, you would be running away from villainous women with your jaw dropped open and your tongue wiggling as you scream.
You completely absorb yourself in your studies, so much so that you often find yourself still doing work when the rest of the class has exited the room.
One afternoon you look up from your notes to find your professor staring down at you. You look around to find the room empty. It is only you and the middle aged man tonight.
"Paul," he says. "I know why you're here. You don't have to sit through class all day staring at me like that and pretending to be absorbed in your work. I get it. You're attracted to me. It's a reasonable thing to happen. I have to admit you are pretty handsome yourself."
"What?" You say, pushing back in your chair. "No, I-"
"Listen," Professor Hornsby says, putting a hand on your leg. "It's okay. No one is going to judge you here."