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I Am Beyond Hope.

So, I was sitting in the student center today before Earth Sci. And this stunning young woman walks in and sits on the couch right across from me.

And to paint a mental picture: I'd say 5'5", 5,7" in heels. A figure I could cuddle up with till the end of days. Black hair cut short, but about three promotions past a pageboy and brushing over an amazingly kissable neck. Pale skin, revealed tastefully in a off-white silk top and framed to perfection by a black dress jacket. Mid-length black pencil skirt set off by those stockings with the dark vertical stripes. The kind of face you could happily watch while they sleep.

Yeah, she left an impression. And she looked like one of our business majors, and stressed too by the way she kept checking her phone. I really wanted to cheer her up by walking over and saying "I'm sorry, but you are as beautiful as the stars at night. And I would kick myself if I missed out on telling you that."


No. No. To be perfectly honest, the Dominant guy in me wanted to say "I want to be your James Spader, let's re-enact some scenes from Secretary." But you all know what I mean.

And I did nothing.

I am so dead romantically that I can't even compliment an attractive woman. I've abandoned all hope and entered masculine spinsterisim with nothing to look forward to but carpal tunnel in my "dating hand". A bi-polar's libido that's all dressed up and no reason to leave the couch.

Someone do the kind thing and just shoot me.

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