When I was seventeen years old I fell completely for a guy, or rather became infatuated with him, solely on the basis of his looks. I knew what his name was and where he was from, but I didn’t know who he was. I knew nothing about his personality or what kind of person he was but I insisted that he was the one and went to great lengths to get his attention. Like everything else that I put my heart and soul into, I succeeded, but it blew up in my face. The guy wasn’t who I thought he was. He was something that I thought he couldn’t be. And he wasn’t very nice. It all thankfully abruptly ended, whatever it was, and I’m glad that it wasn’t worse. It could have been so much worse. It still messed me up pretty badly though but it taught me a valuable lesson: don’t fall for guys based on their looks alone. Looks don’t tell you whether a guy is kind, smart, thoughtful, a pervert, an asshole or a liar. You have to know a man in order to fall for him and only his actions can tell you what kind of person he is. Not his stupid face.