I do not understand Men.

Either they pursue you vehementlly, not unlike a stalker.

Or they keep it mum, right inside their deepest of hearts that you're not too sure yourself what is going on. If you're in or out, or at a precarious "neither here nor there".

Worse still, they string you along, by sugarcoating and smokescreening your views. By painting roses are your (and his) canvas. By promising the world and delivering the heavens.

And then yank that string away from you just as you were about to have a nibble at the carrot.

And they say we're the difficult ones.