Few would believe it, but Dr Pamela Lillian Isley doesn't believe in love. She doesn't believe in romance. She doesn't sit there at night wondering when she will find the elusive "one." She doesn't go looking for "the one" either. She doesn't daydream about the perfect person to match her personality flawlessly. She doesn't wonder what it would be like to walk down the aisle at a wedding, feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world while every looks upon her in awe at how stunning she looks.
She doesn't do any of this. What she believes is that love is a fantasy. Something to make reproduction and finding a mate more interesting. Men and women only look for the ideal partner, the most attractive one, the smartest one, the funniest one, so that they can brag to their friends. Brag about how hot their girlfriend is. How cute their boyfriend is. What their girlfriend does in bed. What their boyfriend does around the house. A relationship is essentially bragging rights that eventually can lead to reproduction, but other than that, it's not that important.
Growing up, Pamela Isley only had one crush ever. She only admired one boy. She was a lot different when she was younger. Just entering high school can be a nerve racking experience for a teenager, especially if they had bright red hair, freckles and are considered a little overweight.
Kids made fun of her, teased her, pushed her around. She was the girl that no one wanted to sit next to, the girl that everyone threw their food at during lunch, the girl that people joked about taking her to the school dance as if it were some sick twisted punishment.
She was by no means and ugly girl, she was just someone that kept to herself, so she was an easy target.
But there was this one boy.
His name was Johnny. He was tall, dark hair, well dressed for a teenager. He had the most unique smile, it showed confidence and character. All the girls were interested in him. Even though they were always asking him out, he was always turning them down and coming to school by himself.
One day, during maths, Pamela sat in her normal seat. In the back corner of the room, by herself, no one else at her table. Just her. She had become accustomed to this, not having anyone to talk to when the teacher left the room, not even someone that wanted to cheat off of her work.
But then Johnny walked into the room. Transferred from another maths class. They said he was too smart for that one and should go to the advanced one. He walked into the room, calm and cool-like, as if nothing in the entire world could ever affect him. A meteorite could be heading for Earth and the entire world would be destroyed in a matter of minutes, but his disposition still wouldn't change.
He looked around the room, there were a few empty seats, but he did something shocking. He sat next to little Pamela Isley. Everyone stared, confused. Why was the hottest guy in school sitting next to her?
Pamela's face went bright red as she tried to hide her nervous smile. They sat next to each other for the next half an hour without saying anything. It was the most anxious half hour of her schooling life. But then he asked her for help with a maths problem. A simple problem, but he wanted her to explain it. He said that he didn't like the teacher, that he thought Pamela was smarter than the teacher anyway. He let her draw out an explanation of the maths equation on his paper, then the tip of her lead pencil broke. Just when she thought her face couldn't go any redder, he pulled out a pen of his own and handed it to her, his fingers touching hers as he did it.
From then on, in every maths lesson, Johnny would sit next to Pamela. For the first two weeks, they didn't really talk. He would ask for help, or to borrow a pen, or for the time. She was almost always too shy to talk to him.
But then he started to make comments. "I like the way you tied your hair up this morning," he would say, or, "I like your new jacket. Green really suits you."
By the second semester, they were talking, she was opening up to him, talking about her life. Johnny managed to get Pamela's phone number, so they would stay up on the phone chatting. At first he asked if he could have her number so he could call her about some homework, but soon they were staying up until three in the morning talking about anything and everything. About their lives, about all of their personal thoughts and feelings. Pamela came to trust Johnny. Trust him with everything. She even one day, embarassingly let him read her diary where she mentioned a "cute guy" sitting next to her in maths class.
She could never bring herself to confess her true feelings for Johnny though. She wanted to tell him that he was the most amazing guy in the world. That just by sitting next to her at school, he's changed her life. That she wants to be more than 'study partners.' She wanted to tell him that she loved him. But she didn't know how and she didn't have the confidence.
But then she didn't need to. The school dance was coming up, and Pamela was the first person Johnny asked. She immediately said yes and ran home to start getting ready and deciding on what dress to wear.
Two weeks later, the school dance was on. All the kids who would pick on Pamela were there, all with dates, all dressed up wearing ties that their fathers helped put on for them. This was the best dressed any of them had ever been.
Pamela walked into the hall, which had music blasting and lights flashing with teenagers dancing on the floor. She wore a bright red and green dress, anxiously scanning the dance floor for Johnny, hoping that he hadn't ditched her.
But there he was, in front of her on the dance floor... with another girl. A tall, skinny blonde girl that was covered in makeup.
"Haha, hey Johnny! Isn't that thing that just walked in meant to be your date?" one kid shouted out, pointing at Pamela, standing at entrance, crushed at seeing Johnny with another girl.
"Do you really love Johnny Peterson?" asked one girl that walked up to her.
Pamela shrugged as if she didn't know what was going on. The girl pulled out a piece of paper, was black and white, a photocopy.
"Johnny's been handing out all these papers to everyone that you apparently wrote, are you really in love with him? Are you really still a virgin as well?" she asked, laughing.
Pamela looked at the paper, it was a page from her diary. She looked around the room, on the floor, on the tables, in dancers hands. Everyone had a little piece of her diary. All of her opinions, feelings and secret innermost thoughts were in the hands of every student in the school. Every kid that had ever picked on her, thrown food at her, spread rumours about her, laughed at her expense, they now knew everything there was to know about her. And all she could do was watch Johnny dancing with his real girlfriend while he laughed. Laughed all along. Laughed at this most cruel and horrible trick he had played on Pamela.
Pamela was only a young girl then, but she gave up on relationships then. She gave up on boys. She gave up on the typical idea of female happiness, lying in finding "the one."
Dr Pamela Lillian Isley still doesn't believe in love or romance. She just believes in attraction, in fantasy. She now exploits that in men. She uses men. Just in the same way that Johnny Peterson used her all those years as a sick joke.
She doesn't wonder or look for the one. She doesn't daydream. She doesn't fantasize. Pamela Isley simply uses men now, because that's all they're good for to her.