It was only today, as I walked through an overgrown scrap of parkland that I realized something. Girls like her gives people like me the Messiah complex.

For those of you who do not know what this is, the Messiah complex is a state of the mind where you're a hero or some bizarre savior of the world. My interpretation is that it can stretch to day to day situations where you're abnormally chivalric at times and that when you see a person in distress (most likely a girl, bite me you feminists) you have this compelling vision of them crying their last tear and looking up, cracking a slight smile and whispering a soft thank you. You then have this wonderfully novel-worthy journey in which you spend days thinking about this sad person and doing whatever you can to cheer them up. Sometimes it ends in a happy story and everyone end up where they want to be and other times it's just a sad fallout and everyone's borderline suicidal and that one INFJ is complaining about a lack of introvert energy (if you don't get that then don't worry).

Back to the fancy one liner.

Girls like you give people like me the Messiah Complex.

I once knew a girl who was a self proclaimed damsel in distress. She would cry of her poor life and milk sympathy with the claws of her sorrow. To a growing teenager, a crossroad seems to emerge out of nowhere. Before you know it, you're either immune to these attention seekers or you're some bloke with shiny metal armor and a messiah flavored complex.

It's rather ironic, isn't it. One day you find yourself helping every attention seeker you cross and you realize how much the first girl deceived you for herself. Yet, you never really see that in the girls you're helping now, until after something bad happens.

Of course, you could always have been wrong about the first one...