Or perhaps quickly trying to gauge your penis size.
It’s not uncommon for people, men or women, to derive their sense of well-being, self-worth, and self-esteem from how other people treat them.
All they experience is the continuous suffering and they want the suffering to end.
Their performance also depends on the quality of your electrical wiring, so they're not going to work perfectly in every scenario (especially in older homes).
I don’t believe that “it will happen when I least expect it,” because if my expectations were any lower, I’d already be living the life of a recluse.
If he can’t – if he gives you nothing back from your email masterpiece – you have every right to move on.
And, although you’re awfully cute, I just don’t give out my number to any ol’ Freddy who rings my bell.
The cheaters, the egotists, the jerks have sent us into an over-analytical tailspin.
Recently, while considering my standard evaluation of the empty weekend ahead, I came to a crucial realization regarding my obsolete relationship status.
I refuse to believe that I have to kiss more frogs to find my prince, because if college taught me anything, it’s that slutty antics get you nowhere.
We’ve spent so much time deciphering text messages and conversations, crying over the heartaches and mixed signals.
The woman who gets your message and checks out your profile, on the other hand, will most likely have a neutral opinion of who you are or just slightly better than neutral, unless you are strikingly good looking, or unless your profile is very interesting or both.