Yeah, so I met this wonderful girl. She loves Russian history. I don't meet many girls with whom I can discuss Russian history. She is also damned attractive. But, as she told me three hours into our talk, she has a boyfriend. Now, she said "sort of boyfriend", but to me if you've been seeing someone for a year and a half then they're just a plain boyfriend.
She took down my number, and we've exchanged a text message or two. I won't, however, allow things to go any further than that. It's this damned conscience, see; it gets in the way all the time.
Maybe it isn't even a conscience. Maybe I've just been subjected to that hell in the past and, consequently, I have an acute awareness of what it feels like.