One further point about being alone: I’m not afraid of it. I got over that fear in my early thirties, and I’ve lived alone (without a steady lover) for many years. Aloneness and I are old pals (and long-time enemies too). If all my remaining days spent in solitude turns out to be my destiny, then at the end of my life, I shall accept it, and know that I did the best I could to change it. But I shall never resign myself to it, no matter how much the odds of finding my dream girl are against me. As long as I have breath remaining, I’ll keep seeking her; either that, or I’ll die trying.