Sometimes I think that love is so overrated.  I hear tales of relationships gone wrong, of overwhelming family demands, of dream loves shattered by the reality of everyday annoyance.  These times help me see the benefits of being a single girl, ruler of my life and free to do nearly anything I want.  
    But then, I remember all of the hilarious things that have happened as I’ve searched for love, and I have to believe that there’s going to be a purpose to it all.  If not, that would be the worst joke of all!
    I’ll warn you: some of these stories may actually sound horribly sad and depressing.  They were at one time, but now, in context of the bigger picture, and with appreciation of the life I have, I can truly say I’m more amused by my dating history.  The hurt has subsided as time has passed (I thank God for that).  
    It all started with my very first boyfriend… for a day.  It was grade one, and my classmates identified me early on as a smarty-pants.  One of the opportunistic ones, Wayne, decided to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse: give him the answers to homework, and he’d be my boyfriend for the day.  I eagerly accepted.  (What?  He had great hair!)   I recall making him hold my hand during story time, doing my best to make sure everyone saw.
    This innocent relationship turned into something more dubious as I grew older.  In my early teen years, being such an overweight girl, I had very little self-confidence.  After finally learning that every teen suffers this same lack of confidence, I started to open up and make friends.  I found that I fit in well with the drama group, and was happy to get to know all sorts of crazy people here.  
    One such kid was Sam, one of the more awkward, gawky kids.  I wasn’t attracted to him, but we had a good friendship.  One weekend, he made a move on me, even buying me a box of chocolates.  That was the only sweet thing about this relationship.  When the weekend was done, and we returned to school, Sam dumped me like an ugly hot potato.  He denied everything, not wanting to admit any kind of interaction with me.  A few years later, I had another such relationship.  I’ve learned to go out with these guys in public first.
    I am thankful for a three-month relationship I had with one of my best friends, Brian, during our high school years.  We were good friends, dated a short while, and then were able to go back to being good friends.  This was an oasis of normal for me in an otherwise very abnormal time.
    My adult years didn’t get much better.  University was a busy time – too busy for any type of relationship.  Although there was that one lady - yes lady! - who thought I might like a sexual relationship with her.   I did not.  There were also a few men that I wanted to give my heart to.  Turns out, they also wanted to give their heart to a man as well.  Finally, I just decided to be asexual.  Those were some of the best years.  I didn’t even think about relationships or love.  That was freedom!
    I used to think that relationships were not meant to last.  I saw too many instances of broken marriages and hurt people.  I believed that people change too much over one lifetime, and that long-term relationships were unrealistic.
    But then I met a new group of people when I first came to church.  These people were grateful for the hard times in their marriages, and worked to dig deep, grow as individuals and thrive as a married couple.  I was inspired by this ‘radical’ approach (in my mind, anyways), and realized that a marriage is the ultimate in personal development.  
    This is what has spurred the latest bout of looking for love.   But instead, I’ve found the guy who actually slept through our date, the guy who finds me hilarious and charming all evening but then falls for my gorgeous friend, and a slurry of married men who would like to get some action on the side.  This all pales in comparison with the intellectually smart, but socially stupid guy who, after a couple of dates, wrote me an email to say that he really enjoyed my personality but ‘he wasn’t attracted to me.  Perhaps if I had stomach surgery, things might be different.’  
    Are you beginning to see how I’ve developed such a sense of humour over this area of my life?  It’s just so bad that it has to be funny!   And I’m always looking to have fun and funny experiences, so I suppose I’ll just have to continue looking for love.