There aren't fifty shades of gray when it comes to love. Sometimes all we have is the here and now, and there aren't second chances -- so why pretend? That's the part I don't understand. Why does he act like he wants me one moment and then hate me the next? The man is sexy, with dark hair and a dimple at the corner of his crooked smile. He's forever swarmed by women, never wanting for anything. He doesn't want love. He doesn't want me. But those poems he writes, and the verses that run deeper than his alpha male exterior lets on, it leaves me wondering if I've fallen for a man or a myth.