"You're out at a bar on a cold Friday night with your two best friends, feeling inferior and hopeless because one is the indisputable stud and the other is newly married and just along for nostalgia's sake, to bask in the utter irrelevance of it all. So one has nothing at stake and the other has nothing to prove and you're in the middle, with plenty at stake and everything to prove and no real prospects of success. It's been eight months since your last relationship and six months since you've had any kind of sex, and that was of the desperate, rebounding nature, and you're starting to feel invisible in the Big City, wishing you could go back home to your small town, where it was so much easier and the girls were so much more approachable, so much less jaded. Except that you don't come from a small town; you come from here, or, at best, a soulless suburb of here, and there's nowhere to go back to, so you're just going to have to soldier on, get over your fear of rejection, and find someone who will somehow recognize that thing in you, that thing you can't even recognize in yourself but you know is there, that will make you seem like a worthwhile investment, the thing that will somehow inspire a woman to take you home and exchange fluids and then stories and then secrets, in the hope of finding a love that will fill you both up to the point where you can stop looking for it."
- Jonathan Tropper, Everything Changes