And so it ends

It would seem that from the language involved there is absolutely no hope of getting back together. The first time I say "I love you" to a girl and it is wasted and I end up spending all my energy in despair and a black, black depression. It all seems so pointless now. I feel as though I will never meet anyone else like this again. Life just looks like a dull procession of routine and drudgery marked only by the growing nights and smudged by the grey, wet days. If this is love, why do we strive for it so hard? It seems, from this viewpoint, a cruel and mocking emotion that builds you up just for the pleasure of pushing you back down like a playground bully. Nothing seems good and pleasurable any more.