Some people are good at being single. They are so confident within themselves that being alone/living alone doesn’t seem to bother them at all because fortunately for them they do not view their status as a reflection of their inherent self-worth. My sister is one of the people who can lay claim to this, there is absolutely nothing wrong with her self-esteem and self image. I unfortunately cannot claim the same self-confidence. I am not one of those people seems to make friends at the drop of a hat just because I happen to be somewhere people congregate on a regular basis. I know this. That’s why on the relatively rare occasions someone does show interest in me and find myself hoping that I don’t screw up because I can’t stand staring at this blank piece of my life. That is my downfall, the tripwire I seem to have built into every failed relationship attempt, my Achilles’ heel. I try too hard. I consistently get my hopes up way too soon. Yes I know that’s not a good idea, I am aware that unrealistic expectations and pushing things too fast is a sure way to get one or both parties hurt. What I should explain is that even though I know this it is almost as though I have to get that excited in order to have any confidence at all. I suppose the thing to do is not voice the excitement right a way.