“Love is not a victory march,
It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah”
-Jeff Buckley, Hallelujah

I was talking with a friend the other night and the topic turned to guys, relationships & love (as it invariably does over a bottle or two of wine). A beautiful girl, she was bemoaning the fact that she was single, questioning her current burgeoning relationship with not a small bit of frustration. Oh, how I understand…

Many girls in Atlanta are quick to blame the city for the seemingly barren landscape o’ men, yet I think it’s more than that. I have friends who have met fabulous guys in this city, dated them, even married them. And I hear the same gripe from friends in DC, Austin, Chicago, Boston, Raleigh…need I go on?

Some are blaming the “metrosexual”, the rise of the seemingly-gay-yet-straight men who spend more money on hair products than I do and who have been known to utter the statement “Does my ass look big in this?” There is even a quasi-backlash against the metrosexual that postulates that “we have become a nation of women.”

I think they’re missing the point.

Dating has never been easy, despite the idyllic stories our mothers and fathers told us of sock hops, letter sweaters and going steady. Racial tension, unexpected pregnancies, overbearing parents, and yes – even the “seemingly barren landscape o’ men”, surely frustrated women in generations past. The difference, however, is the women themselves.

Growing up, we were told we could do anything. Fly a plane? Sure! Become a Doctor, Lawyer, Geneticist? Yes, yes, and yes. With hard work, dedication, and persistance, we could meet our goals and exceed our expectations.

We took this advice to heart, many of us excelling in our schoolwork and now into our careers. Yet the one place where hard work, dedication and persistance does not pay off is the relationship arena. No matter how hard you try, how much effort you put forth, you can’t make someone love you, can’t make a relationship happen if it’s just not meant to be. The same actions, which have proven so successful in the past, just don’t work when it comes to love.

Aaah, the “L” word. The monosyllabic emotion that causes men to clam up and women to tear up. It’s the foundation of our lives, because when all is torn away, when all is gone, when we’re left with just the rubble at our feet, it’s love that keeps us going. It’s the foundation for many of us – it’s what we persistently continue to seek in the world. I’d go so far to say that for many, and perhaps even for myself, it’s the meaning of life.

If this is true, if any of my postulates above seem possible, you can understand why finding this elusive emotion is that important to us. Why people spend years looking for their partner, why dating services flourish and absolutely atrocious books like “The Rules” fly off shelves. Basically, we’re looking for some direction.

Your happily relationshipped friends (the very ones that Bridget Jones’ coined as “Smug Marrieds”), say you’ll find it when you least expect it. “Oh honey, why are you in a rush?” they ask. “You know, when my [insert twerpy name like Horton] and I first met, I didn’t think anything of him. And just look at us today!” Cue festive music, big smiles, and happily ever afters, because – voila! Just sit around, dearie, and continue to not expect it.

How can you wait for something you’re not supposed to be expecting?

Ah, the quandary of love. Stop, go; hot, cold; call, don’t call; play hard to get, let him know you’re interested – there’s mixed messages out there and nary a map, street sign or even a relationship “On-Star” system to guide us to the chapel. We hear that many relationships start out as friends…we’ve tried that. All too often, you find yourselves with the passion (and sex life) of an 70-year-old couple, as the newness and the excitement have faded before you even began. On other occasions you’re too afraid to mention anything, since you value the friendship too much. And there you are again, with the same ol’ quandary.

Where to turn? How to act? When to let him know you like him?

Hell, don’t look at me. I’m as single as they come.