Time and again my ego stops itself from being satisfied, promoting its own downfall still further. It is too proud in its knowledge to compete with other men for the affection of a woman, or to risk rejection by a woman. So if she has, in the past, loved men whom I regard to be inferior to myself, then I cannot believe she is qualified to appreciate me. Thus, not only does she fail to flatter me, but she is also more than likely to reject me, which my pride cannot tolerate. Similarly, if I suspect she has the potential to love such inferior men (any man) in the future, this too disqualifies her.
In any case, my selfish pride will not allow me to be seen in public with a woman, whispering in ears, caressing fingers, empty talk. I will not be seen begging at the feet of the Devil for sustenance. What kind of an example would I be to others? Of what worth would be the remainder of my life?
My ego (and it is only the ego that can ever love) - what remains of it - knows full well that love is but a dream, so it fights to adapt itself to the dream. It does not follow love through to completion in the real world so as not to spoil the fantasy, and the ideal. The romantic and idealistic spirit knows that an unconsummated love is better than a shattered one; it allows room for hope, expectation, and dreams. More than this love can never be. Ultimately, the only way the truly romantic spirit can succeed is through death or separation. In other words, failure.
For example, if I ever do approach a woman, I will not ask her for some small favour or concession, but will immediately ask for and expect everything. I do not ask for a date, but for the entirety of her love for all time. This she will never grant, and I never ask twice - so I live to fight another day. One doesn't wish to get so close as to have to speak of something other than love; not close enough to kiss.
But my biggest failing is not my ego, its rare knowledge, prides, and sensitivities; it is my pure wisdom. For my wisdom debars any success at all.