Frustrated

Peter's heart ached, burned, it tingled as he watched all the beautiful women walk past him. It hurt him to even look.. It hurt him to even try, cause he knew he was too nice. Women don't like nice guys, women don't like respectful guys, women like money, they like being treated like dirt, they like being neglected, they like chasing after something that will eventually make them feel like a cheap piece of meat. Peter was not capable of doing any of that. He was too kind, too caring, too loving.. That's too simple for women, much too simple... It hurt peters soul, he could feel his chest caving in.. He had no chance with women, and when they ever did give him a chance, they would get bored much too soon, and just stop talking to him. Peter was silent, he had too emotions bottled up, and he always tried to make a good impression. Perhaps he tried too hard, perhaps he wasn't worth their time, "perhaps" Peter thought "perhaps I don't need anyone, perhaps I need to be alone, perhaps a woman will just bring me even more pain and suffering then I already have to put up with" perhaps Peter thought way too much about it, perhaps he made it seem so much harder then it actually was, and perhaps, that's just the way Peter has and always will be... So Peter came to agreement with himself, he came to his senses.. "If women don't like who I am, then I guess I'll have to be alone forever, die alone, with an old friend, and an overrated God. If women can't appreciate what I have to give them, than that's fine, maybe I couldn't appreciate what THEY have for me.." Peter was fed up with the phony act, he didn't want to be like everyone else...