Boys and Girls (but not like the Good Charlotte song)

The thing about carrying a torch for someone is that eventually it has to burn out.

You may be convinced that it's still burning bright, but really it's eight years later and the torch is now just a pile of ashes. Or rather a pot-bellied alcoholic with a dead-end job and no sense of humor.

Still, you'd do him in the back of a crowded theater just for the memory of a stupid joke about a bipolar Ewok (really, don't ask).

You want to move on, but it's like that torch is a memory that won't go away. Kinda like the sensation amputees get of their limbs - even when they've been blown off by a freaking grenade launcher.

So meanwhile you're trying to connect to some other strange human who has (for some unknown god-forsaken reason) taken an interest in you. All while walking around with fucking phantom torch syndrome.

It's a vicious cycle. It just happens over and over again. Replace deadbeat loser with wants-to-get-married-yesterday guy and you've got yourself a rebound. Sprinkle in a few ambiguous friendships, a couple of creeps, and you've got the relationship roadmap of every single girl over the age of 21.

Guys, take notice. You're either going to break the mold, or become crazy bachelor number twenty-seven.