Attraction is a funny thing. Women can be beautiful and still do nothing for me. They can be stereotypically sexy and I will still pass them over. They can look innocent and it won’t interest me, have a sassy attitude and I’ll be looking elsewhere. I get bored easily and am as fickle as April weather.
It was better with the subs than it was with the gold diggers or the hookers. These were real people, with real lives, real jobs, real hearts. It meant something when they submitted to my demands. It meant trust, and trust meant love. I got that--I mean, I understood that. And, oh, Lisa, how I needed that—but I didn’t know how to deal. I was too broken.