Try as I may, romance continues to be just beyond my reach. Brief encounters do happen from time to time, but not romance.
I have been exiled from Loveland. Cast adrift from Passion Island.
Quite frankly, between you and me, it's beginning to piss me off.
My apartment, like myself, continues to lack feminine attention. It feels like I'm living in a motel, an impersonal lodgings where there are no Loreal products in the bathroom or a lingering Chanel fragrance with every breath.
On the bright side, there's no squabbling over wardrobe or shoe-rack space.