Classic He's-Just-Not-That-Into-You Moment

I've spent the day surrounded by like minds, listening to inspiring speeches on preserving democracy and bettering humanity and what am I left thinking about tonight? 

The guy I’ve been infatuated with for nearly a year, and his pursuit of the girl across the room.

For a brief moment of hope and happiness I actually thought this would be something that would work out for me. 

I finally met a guy that I deeply enjoy talking to. A man whose mind I'm fascinated with. Whom I'm physically attracted to. A man for whom I would bend over backward to get a chance with. We are more compatible than I thought possible. I've always assumed I'd never find a guy that I'd want to be with this much, this genuinely.

I thought things were going relatively well, until an 18-year-old blonde girl showed up. Sorry if you're blond, or 18, or blond and 18.  

It’s just so damned cliché (excuse my language, I'm upset).

She wears hipster glasses and is as sweet and naïve as anyone I’ve ever met.  She doesn’t always get jokes, sarcasm offends her more often than makes her laugh (one of her annoyingly perfect attributes), and she’s so fantastically pure, in a good way—not in the potentially derogatory way. 

Most guys would like her, I mean why shouldn’t they? But him? Really?  

He must be a typical case of opposites attract. He's like me. Sardonic, a little jaded, and looks at life through side-glances and blue-tinted glasses. 

He's even tweeting about her. Makes my heart heavy and my brain hurt.

I would really enjoy a good cry right about now, but I'm sharing a hotel room with a girl from work.

Maybe it's time I face the music. He's probably just not that into me. 

Feeling alone, awkward and heartsick. 

Peace, love and sad smiles.