Alone

It's a cool Chicago summer night. They stood on the roof as the moon lit up a trail on Lake Michigan. He leaned against the railing, she leaned along with him. Though they had just met, the conversation just wouldn't stop. She turned to him and asked him why he was still alone. He looked a little puzzled, at her frank question. He paused for a bit, thinking of whether he should give her some cliched line or be honest. He decided to be honest

'Well, honestly I'm awkward as hell, and I can come off a little strong in the beginning. But it's the hopeless romantic in me, I'm always writing that happy ending in my head. I know myself though, I know if someone can bear with me in the beginning, and see passed those initial flaws, I can be everything they need and more. But more often than not I scare people away. My friends keep telling me that there's someone out there that'll love that about me. But they're full of shit, that's just something they gotta say cause they care. It's become easier to just not put myself out there anymore. I'm tired of the false hope and expectations, getting excited when I think something is going well, just to get ghosted or given some cliche 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit excuse. I've given away so much of me, I don't have anymore to give.'