You know, just when you think you've grown out of your junior-high self-mutilation mentality, you realize that all along you've had a terrible tendency toward internal self-mutilation by consistently falling madly for emotional unavailable men who begin by suggesting that they'd really like to be with you, only to suddenly realize that "they're not ready for anything right now", even though you're not after anything specific, just a bit of their time and attention, leaving you wondering exactly what it is about you that just isn't quite good enough for these people but seems just perfect for others, whose heart you, in turn, must break because you're too busy mourning the loss of someone whose tough exterior you mistakenly thought you could melt., someone who, in the words of a friend, you "hate when they walk out the door and miss when they're gone".

And by "you", i mean "me".
And yes, that is an obscenely long run-on sentence with multiple comma splicing errors. I can't be bothered to care about grammar. Which speaks to how upset I am. (sentence fragment)
FUCK this.

Dear you-know-who-you-are-but-will-never-see-this:
Who DOES that? Do you even have a soul? I just wanted to watch tv with you. Not even on the same couch. I never even said I wanted to date you. But suddenly, your whole attitude changes, you can't even talk to me, and you're "Not ready for anything serious. Not ready for anything." Ooooohhhh careful. If we watch a movie, we might have to get married. Jesus, if i'm that ugly or stupid or unengaging or whatever or you want to fuck someone else or you're back with your ex or you're actually a woman, just fucking tell me. Don't feed me shit that sounds like it came out of a frat-boy guide to how to discharge the girl you fucked but never want to see again, especially because 1) you never fucked me and 2) you really can't avoid seeing me again.

Riddle me this, batman: one goodnight kiss. follwed by days of compliments, heavy flirtation, phone calls "to hear your voice", hand-holding, discussion of plans to go out for dinner and conversation, promised purchasing of theatre tickets...a wednesday-night suggestion that maybe friday night would be a good night to go for drinks, sheer avoidance on thursday afternoon, a blow-off on friday for better plans, and saturday night: "I'm not ready for anything right now" (no further explanation), followed by a long, upset, drunken, high-heeled walk home.
And women are the crazy ones? Holy fuck, clearly I need a woman.