Born of Frustration

I'm a love pariah. How else do you explain the parade of non-committal, emotionally unavailable and judgmental men in my life? It's so sad, it's funny and it's that humor or desire to share my misery that's overshadowed my hubris, allowing me to chart this course in anonymity.
First, let's meet me. I'm a 30-something TV journalist in New York City. Currently, I work for a network and travel extensively. Have you seen me on-air? Perhaps. I worked as a local news reporter for several years before moving to the Big Apple. Now I spend my time covering murders and on occasion covering humanitarian crises. That's all I'll divulge right now, stay tuned.
I've kept a journal for several years and it's probably the most incriminating thing I've ever done. All those thoughts spilled onto hundreds of pages which are all awaiting discovery by my grief-stricken mother when I die, or worse, yet another judgmental man who I unwittingly believe is Mr. Right. Usually he's not even Mr. Right Now, more like, Mr. He'll Do because I'm (choose one) bored, lonely, or panicked.