D-d-down the d-d-drain

For some inscrutable reason you keep letting yourself in these situations. It's no different if it's a new one or it's a mistake of old. It all ends in the same hole.
Fact is: once in a while you go down, having all your strenght drained by what you wished be a succubus, but is not. It's in everybody's sight. It's really all over your friggin' face, in neon:

I'm done. Again.

You won't learn. That's what you've learned so far. It'll happen again and there's not much you moron can do about.
Let's try and think once more, so you can go cry to ya mamma I abused you.

Pain. Somehow you seem to have a romantic view of pain. Pain must purge your sins; or make you look good; or have you worthy a place in heaven; or some other dumb shit. Don't give me the sex bullshit, it's not that pain I'm talking here. It's that heartache you revel on, that self-comiseration that awakes you in the middle of the night "inspired" to scribble those pitiful texts of yours. Yes, you appear to love pain, misleading it for passion, cultivating it with extra care, so you have fancy-coffee shops conversation up your sleeves. Hear me now, half-wit, it doesn't make you seem more intelligent. Not even more sensitive. Any shred of pain you woo for yourself is gonna make you piteous; in the worst way possible.

Low self-esteem. Now we're talking. Remember when you used to daydream about being some pounds skinner or some inches taller? Remember being bullied around for not being white? Do you recall why you grew that intellectual persona, the cool bookworm, the witted movie buff? Because you have a dreadful self-image that you try so hard to hide. So, it's only natural that you'd hide your-fucking-self. Now, it may only work for the people you sustain a light relationship like the guys from work, the eventual sleep over, the friends you see once a week. But whenever somebody comes closer: bam! There goes the neighbourhood. And guess what, no one's to blame, sicko-boy. It's you and you only to blemish.

Stupidity. Glad you came up with the subject. You are a cretin, but it's not it. And this is the only moment in the whole History I'll condescend, so grab a camera: you're not stupid, although you are a retard. But somehow it's kinda difficult to really aprehend love-lessons. No one is a genius when it comes down to understand love. No one can be that rational when love is in the way. Cuz if you do, you end up with the stated above. Pain. And low self-esteem. That or you end up alone, which, maybe, you shoulda.