He loves me. He loves me not. It seems like such a harmless game. But I think it really speaks to how passive many women in our society are when it comes to finding love. Men often act like kids, but I think our childhood has its own game that we’ve never stopped playing.

That game is similar: it’s gauging a girl’s interest. But the way we go about doing this is different. Men look to themselves and judge whether a woman is attractive enough for him. Those who pick petals off of daisies hold love as some distant thing that affects them. But I for one don’t want to leave any chances when it comes to finding the perfect woman.

I remember when I was in middle school, letting those you liked know your feelings was such a gamble. I was dumbfounded by one of the most popular girls in school, Kelly F., who just made me drift to her direction. She was only a fifth-grader, but she could pull off the white t-shirt. I loved her smile. It was so powerful, like even though she had this amazing body, hair and face, all you could see was her lips.

I believe the closest I got to ever asking her if she wanted to hang out was once after some computer lab class. She promptly shrugged off the question as gross.

By sixth grade, I caught on. I had a friend field the risk by asking one girl who I would constantly teased in math class whether she would want to date me. When she said, “No,” my friend casually joked the matter off and told me of the outcome.

Avoiding rejection seems to be the game men and women are both really playing. But guys just gawk rather than take that risk of rejection. We use attraction as an excuse for not talking to most women, and when the woman of our dreams comes around, we’re too shy. Maybe I’m generalizing, but most beta-males seem to do this. Alpha males gawk, and then strut themselves off like they have no brains whatsoever.

Right now, I’m really trying to overcome that fear of rejection by talking to as many people as possible, like I did yesterday while people shopping at the mall.

I just hope, Love, that you won’t use a daisy to bet whether you’ll see me.

I passed up about half a dozen women this week at a summer agriculture festival and open mic night at a bar. I would either make eye contact, which wouldn’t lead to anything, or deliberately stare away from a person. I don’t think of myself as a shy person, but I think deep down maybe we all are. Even when we put on these moods, injecting ourselves with upbeat tunes, bar-room banter or having fun with just our friends, maybe we’re all just really, really scared.

The agriculture festival enticed me with beautiful women. One pair of girls wore cow boots, and they were kicking mud on a walkway and laughing. I was definitely attracted to one, but we were walking in the opposite directions. But I, like most other guys, seem to get caught up in this automatic, energy-saving method of judgment where we wait for a woman who’s beautiful enough for us in order to initiate any communication whatsoever.

By the time we actually register this, though, we have already lost the moment. We miss whatever was happening. Instead, we’re just scanning faces and bodies in order to get some stamp of approval.

Most women I’ve dated, met or known, however, are the exact opposite. I’m always stunned by how amazing a woman can process her environment. From my experience, the only processing guys do, though, is which women they would want to have sex with.

At the festival, I ended up talking with one business farmer about bull sperm being sold in straws for $10 a pop rather than talking to women I saw. I know absolutely shit about farming. I’d like to think I know something about women, but it seems what I’m finding out is I’m just getting more and more withdrawn from meeting new people.

Waiting for something to happen is the worst possible thing we can do for dating. I really think guys and girls can both do better in this regard. Some guys will talk to everyone they see, which is what I strive to do, but even then, sometimes it’s just a pawn to attract others.

But there’s no reason to be fake or even wait for that perfect opportunity. Here are five tips to start meeting the man of your dreams:

1. Smile as soon as you see a guy. This will help him with his confidence and signal for him that you are interested in talking.

2. Ask him something. Anything. There’s always something you can ask about. How’s your day going? Why are you here? Why are you staring at me and not saying anything, creep?

3. Go places by yourself – seriously! It’s so much easier to meet people who aren’t in a group of people. Packs of girlfriends are not inviting for a guy to approach you.

4. Don’t ignore people. Just because you look at someone or say something to someone doesn’t mean you have to marry him. Instead of staring away, acknowledge others.

5. Avoid excuses. Fate, serendipity and phrases like “everything happens for a reason” are passive reasons that attempt to sidestep the fundamental issue that you’re not with the one you want to be with. Love love.

Stop the presses. I think I figured out why women find accents so sexy. Even more, this theory may help explain why guys cheat or move on.

When a British native talks, I listen. I hear new words, and I guess their meaning. Vocal inflections seem to garner the utmost attention. And of course, I sometimes laugh just hearing the person speak.

My hypothesis, Mate, is that this dialect surprises Americans. Now that’s sexy.

Whether it’s the chase, the tease, the foreplay, the child-like behavior, or something else, accents banish the mundane, captivating Americans’ attention like a babe to her mother’s breast. It’s just natural.

And if we’re lucky, the person we end up with does that naturally.

When Mona Lisa talks, I listen – even if she’s not talking to me. No, I’m not cracked out in the Louvre, about to throw a cup of tea at the painting – I call my office crush Mona Lisa because she’s picture perfect.

I think when it comes to dating, we just don’t want to get bored.

For guys, that has some strong implications when looking at the usual stereotype of our sex as pigs, wanting to sleep with anyone.

Men desires goddesses in bed because I think deep down there’s a real issue that they’ll become bored with whom they go to bed with.

This may go against everything you know, like spending the rest of your life with the one you love, but it’s just a thought to help you get into guys’ heads. It may not be that they want to mess around with as many women as they can, but that they are not satisfied or surprised in their current situation.

I truly believe if you want something, you should do everything in your power to make it happen. Serendipity and fate can be such scapegoats to passive dating. So instead, try changing the environment from your typical date, your behavior from the typical approach or romance, or your attitude to one that questions the world rather than just listening.

Shout, scream, seduce. Anything out of the ordinary. And you don’t even need an accent to do it. Or try sporting an accent if you never role play like that. Really! Okay, just kidding.

Yours,

Marco

You know how the story goes, you see someone you’re attracted to at the office. You find yourself glancing over in his or her direction. You try and make yourself involved in your coworker’s world. And you get smacked with the dilemma, “If I don’t take this to the next level, am I avoiding-any-possibility-of-sexual-harassment, a-weird-friendship, or-failure or am I — gasp — insecure?”

I’ve always thought since I was a little kid the perfect relationship would be where I’ve been friends with that person through some incident where we joined forces together after some calamity. That’s changed, and I instantly gauge whether I’m attracted to that person. I hate to say it, but that standard, unconsciously or consciously, is “Would I want to fuck her?” That’s it. No matter what amount of advertising primes you to think otherwise, guys just want to know if they’ll be sexually satisfied. Most of the time, that’s by looks. Sometimes, personalities can show us your sexiness.

One of the behaviors I’ve noticed in the dating scene is how insecure we all are. When I have enjoyable conversations with women, even when everything is going perfectly, they’ll cradle their necklace or check to see if their hair is up to par. But it doesn’t matter if you’re having a bad hair day or you have the worst jewelry on, that just goes way over our heads. We’re not that smart.

If you want to be the most desired girl in the room, outfits, makeup, and accessories are not the way to go. To some extent, maybe. But really all it takes is to go over to a guy, ask him what he does for a living, laugh at one of his jokes, and touch his arm.

At work, I have to be honest. I’m insecure, but I’m a sucker for chivalry, romantic moments, and so forth. This morning, I walked in, and the first person I saw was dream girl. Monday morning Mona Lisa wore a pink dress, which looked like a skirt because she was wearing a sweater or jacket, but it was a stunning fuchsia. I said the first thing that came to my mind, “Hi,” and she responded likewise. But we didn’t speak for the rest of the day.

I really should just get to know her, and I would love to at least be friends with her. I just have not put in the time or effort to do so. So all you beautiful women at work, I just want to let you know office guy would probably want to talk, he just may be a little reserved at first.

Chemistry for a guy begins the moment he sees you, not based on some accessory you might wear. If the chemistry is there, he’ll use that accessory or clothing to get to know more about you if he has half a brain and balls.

In the good old days, school had a different subject every day.

I recently discovered that everything in life is a distraction from finding the one you love. For me, that’s been taking shape in the last few weeks in eating and splurge spending. It’s almost as though I’m using food and money to compensate for my inadequacies, which I’ve never noticed before.

So instead of relying on these unfulfilling substitutes – though ice-cream can be very filling at times – I’m going to work on meeting new people, anyone, who can help me find you.

Yesterday, I was intent on disregarding those distractions, but all those fears, insecurities and excuses crept in. I visited a coffee shop with the intent of working on some chapters of a novella and meeting some strangers.

When I walked in on an ascending handicap-access ramp, I nearly tripped when noticing two prospective women to talk to. One looked over, and I approached the counter. I explained it was my first visit, smiling and trying to coax the waitress into her opinion about what she recommended. I looked at the menu, the big kind posted on the wall, and she quickly checked me out. And then she proceeded to explain the menu to me and not even answer my question!

Later, while sitting down at a table, I thought to myself, ‘If I really could think out-of-the-box on my feet, I would have asked the two customers I saw what they thought.’ Or, I could have challenged the waitress in a teasing manner to not be so evasive. But conversations and thoughts were muzzled to the familiar thereafter. The two women carried on their conversation with several laughs, and I read a magazine on the other side of the shop. They left before me, and I just felt like it could have been so much more.

It seemed like that magazine and that friend were distractions to comfort us from potential failure. We didn’t even attempt to talk to each other. Maybe one of us wasn’t entirely attracted to the other, but we didn’t even give a conversation a shot. Maybe we knew other people who would be perfect for each other. But finding love stops as soon as insecurity starts. And I just feel like we’re all so afraid, and we give up so easily.

Like in Harry Met Sally, the character of Carrie Fisher (who also played Princess Leia in Star Wars), says to the man she’s just met from a blind-date, who was actually Harry’s date until the two couples swapped, about how difficult it is returning back again and again to being single. I just never want to marry someone as a backup because I’m unwilling to take risks, challenge myself, or be vulnerable again. That’s just not going to happen for me.

When I walked into a bar Friday to meet with some friends, I scanned each chair and face for the people I was meeting with. I didn’t engage myself in what 14 various strangers were doing or saying. Instead, I walked to the back of the bar and plumped down in a table to wait for my company.

I didn’t step out of my boundaries. I’m so used to making excuses not to talk with beautiful strangers that I automatically avoid conversation with them altogether. When I get past those initial “risk” barriers, though, such as being introduced through a friend, I’m perfectly fine. But I end up being an entertainer and a wallflower.
I met Natasha last night, through a friend of a friend of course. Natasha, a brunette who brought the liquor to life, was one of those loud women who used attention to avoid the pains of silence. I was immediately intrigued by her beauty and energy, though.

Both of us, though, hid behind masks. I really wish we could break eachother’s personal space more easily. We did at points, like when I jumped into some whispered gossip with her and her friend about a 50-something man stalking them as though I had always known them. And she broke my space, when she hip-bumped me from behind while I was standing in a group. But 99 percent of the time this never happens, and it’s pronounced so much more with strangers.

Part of this stems from how we judge others and begin shy with new experiences.

I just take way too long to approach strangers because I think to myself, ‘Is this person beautiful enough for me?’ With Natasha and her friend, Deirdre, this didn’t happen. I just enjoyed their company. But for every single stranger I saw sitting at the bar, I know I did this unconsciously. Our society just waits, hoping for that big payoff. Our society’s profession is waitressing: use alcohol as an excuse for embrassing behavior, meet people in a routine manner in a way we’re instructed to do. We even have demographic and occupational questions in stock. I have yet to see a woman who has the balls to introduce herself to a stranger without those social circle buffers.

I guess this takes out the difficulty of surprise and being present in the moment. But I’m fighting against this. I want love more than any social stigma, standard or mistake can hurt. So watch out, lover, I’m going to be jumping into your group huddles, and you better push me out of my spot and your’s too.

I just feel like such a creep if I rape people into conversations.

Pretending to forget an item in order to ask for help or make sure you’re in the line with the woman you want to meet just makes me feel like such a cheat. Maybe, though, I don’t want it enough, and I’m just protecting myself from failure.

My whole day, even week, though, centers on these small trips to stores to meet someone. Most of the time it’s for stuff I need. Other times I plan to just get a few items. And surprises catch me off guard so badly. Today, I was thinking in church maybe Christmas gifts are the epitome of controlling uncertainty. Rather than give gifts any time of the year, we cut down expressing ourselves to a designated time and day with other unwritten rules, even sometimes as to how much money we should spend. As if giving something special to someone isn’t reciprocated or we caste ourselves as more in love or appreciate of someone than they think. Or maybe they just didn’t put as much time or effort into it as you. Christmas gifts control for that uncertainty. But you still end up feeling disappointed if you didn’t get what you wanted. Either you have to tell people directly or with tons of hints or risk having someone not know what you truly want.

I mentioned today to a friend who’s twice my age about how I’m great at talking with women as soon as my mouth opens, but starting that first thought based on an observation is my biggest hurdle. Sometimes I even observe something and have a thought that I repeat to myself, but I end up swallowing it. I wish I could just blurt it out. Tourette Syndrome would really help out my dating life.

I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to meet someone. Gorgeous women boasted summer dresses, and I thought I could just wait for a chance encounter. Movies tell me this happens all the time. And I’m really a playful flirt when I want to be.

But I can’t figure out why I feel so doubtful at times.

One woman in her late teens who was walking a few steps ahead of me just made me so sad. She was so beautiful: her skin shared two different pigments, scattered in every which way, as if her body burned with love.

I wanted to know what happened. That’s honestly the first thing to come across my mind. I was curious, and it felt like a genuine question. Not like some gawking neighbor, but just some man wanting to know if this is someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

She wore a pair of shades and yellow Converse sneakers under her dress. I never pay attention to this stuff. I was just bogged down at not being able to ask the first question that came to my mind, and I was reaching for something else to start a conversation.

Another possible love escaped any conversation whatsoever. I dovetailed into a smile with her when I heard her laugh. She stood in the middle of the pedestrian-run, blocked off road with a few other women, and I was walking and looking at shops on the sidewalk.

We made eye contact, but it was so sudden, I had nothing to go off of. I thought to myself for a second afterward, ‘Was there anything I could have said?’

Another hopeful I saw happened to be walking in the opposite direction, and I just felt I couldn’t be that guy. Other guys binged beer on their lawns or roofs with their shirts off, but I just don’t see how that accomplishes anything.

It would be too easy to say these women were so beautiful I was at a loss for words. It’s just so sudden. A week earlier, I was swimming at a lake, the only person in his twenties surrounded by a bunch of children, and one five-year-old said the first thing that came to his mind, “Hi!”

I want to be that kid when it comes to love.