When life is going well for you, every day is important. It’s an oppurtunity to get things done, to have new experiences and generally expand your life. Take that away and you get bored and frustrated quickly. As the days go by and the wasted time piles up this turns into a sense of frantic desperation. That level of negative emotional energy becomes very draining and impossible to maintain. Suddenly you’re forced to look upon life with a new perspective. Exit Heraclitus enter Parminedes. This is now the way things are; there is no possibility of change. But that’s not so bad. Everything becomes glazed over with a layer of serenity. As the living people rush about with their ever-shifting dramatic lives worrying about tomorrow you are left with dark caverns inside your own mind to fill with make-believe. There is no excitement here, but perhaps there could be contentment. Yes, things are quite tolerable exactly as they are, we have no choice to believe it is so.
To be confronted with a wild spirit who unmistakably recognises you as another living, changing, thing is quite jarring. It forces things out of you unbidden that you’d rather forget were there. So you build walls. Walls thick enough to keep out the sounds of the prowling beasts outside so as not to rouse the slumbering ones within. Behind those walls you can stay at peace; the low level noise left in your life is inaudible and your austerity goes undisturbed. Sub specie aeternatis
So a girl who makes your heart beat faster is actually a threat. You know you could never have her. Those walls took a long time to build. Hell, that’s all you’ve been doing since you shut yourself inside. She’ll never break them all down, even if you make it easy for her. Heck, it’s not like there’s even anything inside that’s worth that kind effort. But she might puncture a few outer layers and lose interest, leaving you with repairs to do. So you run like a frightened deer, to lick your wounds.