Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall—the blind belief in fate, the whole "things happening for a reason" drill.

And then there is Darcy. She is a woman who believes that things should fall into her lap, and, consequently, they do. They always have. She wins because she expects to win. I do not expect what I want, so I dont. And I dont even try.

Then he continues his rant,saying, "And even if I didn't know them, I know their type." "And what type is that?" she asks,leaning foward in her chair,yearning for confirmation that he gets it,that they are like-minded in their observations of others and the circumspect way they view the world. "Oh,let's see," he says,rubbing his jaw. "Superficial.Artificial.Sheep. They're more worried about how they come across to others than who they really are.They exhaust themselves in their pursuit of things that don't really matter.

The whole "misery loves company" thing never applies more than when you're breaking up. The thought that the other person is doing fine is simply too much to bear.

Throw in the intensity of emotions that come with that bittersweet summer sandwiched between high school graduation and the rest of your life.

But I have learned that you can't just create your own timetable and will it to come true.

Which always raises the interesting question of whether redheads pursue other redheads in a narcissistic way, or simply, because they have no other choice, as nonredheads aren't interested.