Mr. Darcy and male entitlement

“Can we just be friends?” she asked looking upset. I shouldn’t have tried, I was thinking to myself. I shouldn’t have told her how I felt. But it was tormenting. I couldn’t just keep all those feelings, all those words inside me. It was overwhelming you see. I almost spurted out “No, we can’t be friends. How could I be your friend?” but then my better judgment kicked in and I just nodded yes.

So, now we’re friends. Just like before. And life continues its course— in her opinion. In my world, life has stopped. I wake up every morning feeling a void growing inside me, not knowing how to overcome the mere fact that she is not into me. It’s silly, I know. I’m also too old for this, right. I’ve been through similar situations, many times, too many unfortunately. Sometimes I was the one who got rejected, others I was the one rejecting. However, I never felt like this. Like a part of me was ripped and taken by her indecisive, scared look.

I can’t understand why I scared her. Was it the way I said it? Was I too direct? Is there such a thing as too direct? I mean, how could I express my feelings? I couldn’t minimize them. I couldn’t say anything but “I think I’m in love with you”. Because this is the case, I’m ardently in love with her, as Mr. Darcy would have said. All women love Mr. Darcy and secretly dream that they’ll get to meet him, right? I imagined I could have been her Darcy. I’m a gentleman myself like him and a romantic, unbelievably romantic.

What to say? I can’t understand women and I’m afraid I never will. Could it be that I’m too old-fashioned? Or because I’m a “good guy” and they usually go for the “bad” ones? I’m just so confused. I thought that what women really wanted was to find someone to marry, someone they can rely on. And I can definitely say that I’m such a person. So why, why doesn’t she want me?

Well, either because you’re too pushy or because she’s just not into you, my female friends told me decidedly. Just because you like her it doesn’t mean she has to like you back, they coldly finished the conversation, clarifying that I’m not entitled to anyone’s attention, even though I’m the perfect gentleman of a Jane Austen novel.