Is there a point where you stop caring about rejections?
Bear in mind, when it came to the "ladies", prior to meeting my fiancee, I had more than my fair share of rejection. There was a library girl at the UR that I asked out nearly every day for an entire summer. Why? Because she never actually said "no" she only girlishly giggled... and I worked up enough girl-rejection-callouses in high school that it didn't faze me in the slightest.
Writing, though...
Writing rejections, no matter how small or large, get me every time.
I've been at this long enough that I'd think I should have developed a nice, thick skin, but I haven't and I don't know why.
I care.
I care too much?
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