I think it's too late for me.
I think my time has passed.
I think I have grown so resilient to the perils of life and love that I can't stop being suspicious.
I can't stop being hurt. It's the most natural thing for me.
I can't stop assuming I'm going to be hurt.
I can't stop assuming the worst.
I can't stop waiting for the worst to happen.
And when it does, I'm kind of glad.
When it does, I'm kind of relieved.
Because I knew it. I just knew it.
I was right all along.
And I am not good at letting someone prove me wrong.
No one has ever loved me back. Why would anyone start now? Or later? Or then? Or ever?
I have gotten good at being alone. It is both the easiest and hardest thing I do, every day. My independence is perhaps my greatest accomplishment.
And yet, perhaps, it is also my greatest impediment.
Damaged Goods, Or, The Female James Bond
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