Before I let Nightshift Ben take over, I just want to share a bit of news. Saturday night saw me break my 10-year vow of silence.

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I'd been trying to kick The Three from my system, and leave myself unafflicted by fancying anyone. Well, I managed two of The Three with ease, but the last one was proving much more difficult to exorcise. So at my birthday party on Saturday night it occurred to me that an alternative ending might be possible with a forthright but gentle wooing, so helped by a good dose of Dutch courage (but not too much), I took the remaining person aside and suggested we might have a drink sometime.

"As friends?" she asked.

"Umm, as more than friends," I admitted.

"Ah..."

"Oh."

"I'm very flattered but..."

"Well, I had to ask. You don't ask, you don't get."

"No," she smiled.

"So just as friends then?"

"That would be nice."

There then followed the familiar conversation about being too nice and liking bastards and all the same old guff that I've become so well attuned to, as well as the novelty value of being told they were enjoying being single. And none of which is the slightest consolation.

An initial feeling of stoicism - sometimes even bordering on defiant optimism which told me (but of course not her) she was making a mistake - was followed by a day feeling foolish and sheepish, even imagining headlines on News Online along the lines of "Horror in west London as Ben dares to ask attractive woman out: victim tells all".

So finally after ten years of not popping the question, the last good few being told I needed to be more adventurous and chance my arm a little more, I find someone I'm willing to risk getting shot down for, decide to act on an impulse when everyone's relaxed and... end up with just the same answer I was getting 10 years ago. I'd tried to act on an attraction before it got out of control, and yet end up feeling just as bad as - possibly worse than - the last time.

What I don't understand, what makes me by turns angry, confused, frustrated, and depressed - all emotions I've experienced in the last 24 hours - is why they always say no. What is it about me? What's so wrong about lovely or nice or sweet? What's so unattractive about being a good guy and so attractive about bastards? None of this "They just are" shit. I want answers.

(I should, of course, point out that none of this is directed at the person in question, but rather at the world in general. As for she who shall remain nameless, I hope neither our professional relationship nor our fledgling friendship will suffer as the result of my suggesting something more.)

One of my favourite ploys when people are feeling hung over is to encourage them to "get back on the horse" and have another drink. I suppose I just need to take my advice and get back on the woman horse, if that can be said without causing too much offence. It's just that as I'm so used to getting my fingers burnt, it'll probably take me a while to allow myself to fancy someone again, never mind ask them out. Rejection is no fun - that's why I've exiled myself from asking people out for the last decade - and sad though it sounds, I can't see any sign of there ever being a different answer.