Here's my latest Mad Men fanfic about Don never feeling that he can be loved. Enjoy!
“’Does someone love me?’”
“That’s what your question was.”
“Why would you say that?”
“That’s everyone’s question.”
Does someone love me? No. Never.
Love is for everyone else. I am a fool. For thinking that someone could actually love me.
I wanted to believe it so badly when Miss Swanson took care of me, fed me soup like a loving mother. I learned the price I had to pay for it. For my foolishness.
When you fall for love it strips you of your dignity.
Sex is just sex, nothing else. It should not be mixed up with love, like everyone thinks - like everyone hopes.
Like I had dared to hope with Megan.
As soon I begin to feel stirrings of something else . . . something far more than just sexual fascination, she pulled away. Had she ever really loved me? No.
I had fallen for her gentleness, her kindness, her creative spark. I loved. But she didn’t. She left me so easily. And I loved her enough to let her go . . . into that other world. Without me.