Girl Problems

I have a problem. My problem happens to be two brown-eyed girls, and their lack of interest in me. In high school, I met a girl. She had brown hair, brown eyes, was roughly five foot seven inches tall, and was extremely gorgeous. Before she destroyed my confidence, I thought I actually stood a chance of having a relationship with her. After leading me on for about a year, she finally got the nerve to tell me that I had about as much of a chance of getting with her, as the Detroit Lions did with winning Super Bowl. Yet I still held some hope that she would see what she was missing out on.

Throughout my fours years of high school, she and I reached an unspoken agreement that I would continue chasing after her, and that she would continue to reject my feelings for her. I had even asked her to every school dance, including prom, only to be denied over and over in the sweetest of ways. Even after graduation, I have still not given up hope that someday she would come to her senses and realize that we were meant for each other. At the beginning of college, I thought it would be a nice time for a fresh start. The bottom line was that I was looking for someone to take my mind off of her.

Along with good looks, she was involved in some unique hobbies such as; beauty pageants, the Christian church, and theatre. Separately, many girls have these hobbies, but very few have this triple-threat.

I thought I'd left those problems with my legacy at Royal Oak Kimball High School. Little did I know that they had followed me to the next chapter in my life, college. No sooner did I get settled in at college, when I met a girl with brown hair, brown eyes, roughly five foot seven inches tall, and extremely gorgeous. I thought to myself, "godÐ'...you son of a bitch!" After talking to her, I discovered her hobbies. Wouldn't you know it, but her hobbies were Christianity, theatre, beauty pageants. At first I thought it was my second chance at the girl I didn't get in high school. After getting to know her better, I found out her last hobby. It was a boyfriend of two and a half years. I'm sure you can imagine my disappointment, the curse words that were going through my head, and the smile that I put on to keep from breaking my fist on a cement wall. There was another unspoken agreement, but I don't need to describe it again.

I've come to the realization