I dunno what has me up at this hour, when I'm supposed to work in just a few. I was dreaming of SomeOne Special, those strange awake dreams that only come when you think of something or someone too much. A year or so ago, I would've labeled them daydreams, but now they're merely visions of a not-so-hated future. And I was wondering why there seem to be so few good guys left.

And it hit me. Something that Jet had said in an earlier chapter of PVV [another story of mine; Jet is my co-author]. “Most guys don't want to find that great match; most guys don't want to settle down.” Therein lies the absolute truth.

Most males don't want to find that one great fit, that one woman who could complete them if they gave her half a chance. But most women secretly long for that one male to sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the sunset; I suffer from similar delusions at times. Despite my being of the honest opinion that happy ever afters are just stories that haven't quite ended yet, I do dream of a knight in shining t-shirt who will come to my aid, and stand tall or not beside me as he chooses.

Despite my painful, and all too common checks from reality, I can't help but hope, “Maybe this one, or that one, or ANYone.” Hell, even another damsel wouldn't go amiss right now.

But then I started thinking about all the other women like me, those who have been shattered. Because most guys aren't looking for that one great girl, they jump from one bed to the next, like Musical Sex Partners. “Last one out is a saggy”... Let's not go there. Anyway, where was I in my rant? Oh yes, Musical Bed Partners. But I wonder if they ever think about the women they leave behind?

The ones who pinned their hopes on him, the one whose dreams he killed. And what about the girl he's with now? What about when he leaves her? Time after time after time. Women become the product of a generation or two of men who don't know what they want, and by the time they DO know, it's too late for them to have it. Women become warped, twisted, bent to society's expectations, trained and beaten down just like Pavlov's dog, until they react the way everyone expects them to.

And these women aren't the only victims. We wonder why there aren't any more nice guys. Pay close attention, girls, cause here's your big answer: you. These women that I've been harping on about? The ones who act like a rabid, mistreated dog; the ones hwo lash out even when they want love? They constantly expect every man to treat her the way that THAT ONE did. It's the same story.

They mistreat him, or leave him, or what have you, and he turns into the next tool. It's a damned vicious cycle. And I have no idea how to stop it. From personal experience, it's hard as hell to open yourself up again, to try and learn to trust again. Those memories of however many times it happened becomes an oubliette, one that you can't get out of without serious help. But when you've hit rock bottom, and there's no one left to run to, who do you call on to help pick your scarred, sharp pieces back up?

Who do you call on to help you back to your feet, other than yourself, since that one of the only people you can really rely on?

I don't know: If I had the answer, maybe I wouldn't be the bitter bitch that I am.