The loneliest boy in the world
Here’s the revised version with correct apostrophes My grade 3 teacher, Miss Martins, was right about me: I really am the loneliest boy in the world. She might have been joking when she said it, but here I am, years later, wondering if I’ve been walking around with a sign on my forehead that says, “Intriguing but perpetually misunderstood.” And that’s the thing. being lonely isn’t about not meeting people; it’s about not being understood. It’s never been a struggle to find girls interested in me. I guess my brain intrigues them. I get asked questions like, “How do you know that?” or the classic, “Do you have a computer in your head?” And yet, here I am, swiping on Tinder and watching the matches roll in, wondering why it still doesn’t work out. The problem isn’t the initial connection; it’s what comes next. There seem to be two types of girls I meet: the ones who are overly sexually aggressive (which freaks me out) and the ones who can’t quite grasp my sense of humor. Playf...