and it turns around

It's funny. Well, actually, it's not. It's not funny that people I am not interested in are expecting me to be interested in them when they keep on pestering me with inane questions like, "When are you going to see me again? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

My favourite doujinshi by Aijou Bank has this title: You Can't Hurry Love. Give me some time to contemplate, realise the wonderful things about you, be romantically swept off my feet and maybe, just maybe, you have a chance.

But the blokes usually just blow it by being excessively enthusiastic about everything that's me, me and me. I'm sorry. I don't enjoy talking about myself every damn minute of the day. I don't enjoy having to give an opinion about every damn thing that needs a commenting on. If I loved myself that much, I'd just give myself a damn good wank and feel the love stir deep within my heart - then go to bed.

If everything's ever going to be about me, when do we get to focus on you? In the end, I learn that you're desperate to please and man, nothing can be worse than a desperate woman. Oh wait, a desperate man.

Ah, but wait. There's another reason why it won't work with me. This little charade to get me to fall for you.

And the answer is, there is someone special to me. I can't get him out of my head, I can't get him out of my heart. Fucking parasite.

Seriously.

Oleh itu, don't try to push for things so hard. Gently, wrangle me away from the goddamn parasite. Give me a reason to believe you can be special to me without being such a parasite. Yeah, then I'll run into your arms babeh.

And we'll sing Eidelweiss on the mountaintop. Just like in the Sound of Music.