Sometimes I look at a boy and am boggled by the way I am so utterly attracted and disgusted at the same time. Those feelings in the same moment, brought about by the same person, it defies the laws of physics or something.  I'm convinced that men have no humanity.  It's my fault.  Honestly, I have some expectation that some man, somewhere in my life, will learn to observe a situation and then respond accordingly in a way that suits me.  Fuck, that suits anyone besides themselves.  Sure, men have said things I wanted to hear, when they want to get laid.  And then everything they ever said evaporates slowly like water from my glass on a hot summer day, and just when I really need a drink I look down and find it empty.  Totally fucking empty.  Like their heads.  Surely I will meet a man in my lifetime that doesn't consider me only a cum receptacle.  Or worse yet, some fucking puzzle to be pawed at and toyed with until he unlocks the treat in the center.  I am the source of my own unhappiness.  I should let go of these impossible ideas.  The idea that somewhere out there there is a man who understands something about women, it's silly.  I'm not asking for a miracle, just a person who is clued into a few things.  Maybe even listens to me when I talk.  I know I'm not the only one.  I see it all the time.  Men with the patience and maturity of a 7 year old pouting and stomping off when they aren't being paid enough attention, or their ego has been damaged in some other minute way.  Why are women always saddled with the reputation of being over reactors.  This all comes to me in a flash when I'm attracted to someone I don't know.  My little flicker of hope is blown out immediately by the tornado of last times.