Everyday he would dress up to the nines for her, thinking she would take more notice of him. He opened and held doors open for her. He acted like the perfect gentleman. He always appeared the alpha male.
But if she was interested she never showed it. She always had a look of indifference around her, and this bothered him a great deal.
One day he realised that this was it, that there was nothing more he could do. He decided to let her go.
He acted still in his usual, gentlemanly manner. He still opened and held doors open for her. But he started allowing her to see his flaws.
His hair and clothes, previously both meticulously picked and made up, were now more casual. His manner became more light-hearted and jovial. He made self-deprecating jokes. He teased her where previously he would flatter, and chided where previously he would ignore.
Walking down the street one day, he accidentally brushed his hand against hers.
“Sorry,” he said.
“What for?” she asked.
“For doing this,” he replied, while holding her hand.
To err is human,
To forgive divine.
I’m so sorry;
Will you be mine?
Love is fickle.
I’m a pickle.
Love is hunger.
You’re my burger.