Love is complicated

I've liked this one girl since middle school. I've liked her for my entire high school career, yet I have no intention of asking her out. Why? I admitted my feelings to her twice, both for different reasons, and she didn't like me back both times. So why bother? Thats the difficult thing about being in love. You think, no, you know you've found your person, yet no matter how close you get, you're still so far away from happiness. I, personally, have never had someone love me romantically. Not sure why, and because I don't know why, it's driven me mad. 17 years of life, and I've still never been kissed or held, or romantically held hands, or have been intimate with a girl, made out, etc. No matter how many different girls I have "liked," I always find myself falling back to her. And I hate it. As much as I love her, I know she doesn't like me back. Yet a part of me wants her to like me back, despite knowing she never will. She talks to me about guys she has liked, I hate it. She has talked to me about experiences she has had with guys, I hated that too. But I'll never see her any different, no matter what string I am attached to, no matter what I am motivated by, no matter who has control over me, I will always belong to her. And again, I hate it. Then again, when I finally do get over her, there will be another. Someone else will have control over my heart, body, and soul one day. Because that's how I am. How I've always been. Someone treats me with kindness, someone does something special for me, someone takes advantage of me, whether they take advantage of my feelings to get what they want, or they take advantage of me sexually. Either way, the point is that those things can make me fall in an instant. I've fallen for less. I have no self-esteem, why should I? The ugly fat kid in middle school has grown up, yet he's still the same underneath. He just wants everyone to like him despite knowing they won't. But when he opens himself to others, everyone else just points and laughs. I remember crying in class a lot in middle school for how much I used to be made fun of. Maybe I deserved it, and I'm sorry to those who made fun of me, for disrupting class by opening my mouth, for ruining your day for trying to be friends with you. You didn't deserve that. But neither did I. My actions were out of love, yet because of that love, I feel worse now than I ever did. I wish I could say this and mean it: I Hate Love