My boyfriend of five years has severe anger and money issues. I constantly helped him out financially, professionally, and personally. If I refused there'd be a fight. Still, I love him dearly because he's a good guy. He's always said I'm "the one"; that every other woman has left him, but he wanted to grow old with me. Two months ago, he left me, but came back a week later, teary, saying we'd go to therapy. The therapist said he had Attention Deficit Disorder, and once he got on medication many of our problems would be resolved. A week later, things were great until he said he didn't love me and left again. He's flying to Peru to see a girl he dated 15 years ago, and hoping to propose. He called her his true love, and hurt me more by saying he'd "wasted" five years with me. But, I know this fling won't last. I still truly love him, and I hate seeing our relationship going down the drain like this!

You note that every other woman has left him, like it's some accomplishment that you're still there. Sorry, but "Woman survives on barely any dignity for five straight years" isn't quite on par with "Woman trapped in car for five days stays alive by drinking her own urine and eating the headrest."

You spin what you had with him as some great love story, and that's not totally off. Your denial of reality is right out of "Titanic" -- the scene where DiCaprio's character is about to freeze to death in the North Atlantic, but first manages to mutter, "I don't know about you, but I intend on writing a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this." Next, you claim he's "a good guy." How so? When he's screaming and maybe even throwing things at you, does he stop for a moment to write a check to the American Cancer Society?

Of course, you were never "the one," just the one who paid his VISA bill. And guess what: He hates you for it -- for being somebody who'd do anything to keep him around -- and probably hated himself for needing you too much to ditch you. You weren't his girlfriend; you were his caseworker. You don't love him; you enable him. And, you weren't with him for who he is but for who you're not. Being with him makes you feel like somebody, and keeps you too busy cleaning up the giant litterbox that is his life to look at your own. To be fair, you two do have one big thing in common: a really low opinion of you.

Don't get your hopes up about the ADD meds, which were apparently sold to you as the Glinda the Good Witch of pharmaceuticals. They might help him be more focused and less impulsive, frustrated, and angry, but there's no medication in the world that will make a mean guy nice. Remember, this is a man who told you he "wasted" five years with you. If you ever loved somebody, you don't say stuff like that to them. (If you have nothing nice to say, well, be a dear and make something up.) Like psoriasis, the guy's bound to come back. In preparation for his return, change the locks, change your phone number, and pledge to stay out of relationships until you couldn't imagine putting up with a guy like him. In the meantime, if you're jonesing to feel needed, become a Big Sister (bbbs.org), and light up somebody's life without paying five years of their electric bills.

I'm a single father and grad student in my mid-20s. Lately, I've been feeling very lonely, and even jealous of married friends who are happily enjoying family life while I'm missing out. My son's mother split four years ago, but I've been reluctant to date because she lied and cheated so much, and I'm afraid of ending up with another like her. I have trouble finding girlfriends anyway because women my age usually aren't interested in stepping into a family situation. Even finding dates is a problem because I don't want to meet a chick at a bar, and there aren't many girls in my profession (forestry). But, say I do meet somebody. I don't know how to keep myself from wanting to get serious quickly because I have this romantic notion that I'll find that true love.

Miserable single father seeks partner. Undercapitalized, lonely, angry, self-pitying, and desperate. Oh yeah, and enjoys long walks on the beach.

It's understandable that you feel life kicked you in the teeth, but you need to acknowledge your part in the deal: closing your eyes while standing in front of a giant swinging shoe. Your son's mother "lied and cheated so much" because she's a liar and a cheater, not because you brought some nice, honest woman home from the factory, and one morning in the kitchen her nose started smoking and she began burping up big black lies. Your desperation -- "I'll wither and die if I don't find true love in the next 20 minutes!" -- is what's setting you up for a repeat. You avoid that the same way you could've avoided ending up with your ex: by forcing yourself to slow down and pay attention to whether a woman's the wife and mommy type (or even the nice type) -- and way before you let the sperm roam free in eggland.

"True love" is Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny for grownups. Supposedly, you just sit down next to the right person at the bar, and from then on, all you'll have to do is lie around basking in the happily ever after. People in their 20s who haven't had much relationship experience are particularly prone to buying into sappythink like "love cures everything." Actually, love doesn't cure anything, but Erythromycin will get rid of any number of ugly bugs.

While the only chicks you're likely to meet on the job are those with beaks, presumably you're in a field you love. You've also got a kid who needs you. Focus on having happy days with him, and try to expand your definition of family to people you treat like family who act like family to you. Put your energy into making friends and creating a social network; ideally, with other single parents. Start or join a babysitting co-op, and you can ask women on dates that don't involve coming by your place to watch your kid put a bean up his nose. Make your life happy, and women will be more likely to want to join you in it. At the same time, you really need to be realistic. This isn't to say there's zero chance of you finding somebody now, but ironically, your best chance takes making peace with the fact that "Hi, I have lots of student loans and a kid, wanna go out with me?" is likely to be met with "Thanks, but I've got my eye on that guy over there with the raging herpes."

I've been dating a man for 14 years, and engaged to him for seven. Unfortunately, I cannot move forward because I've never gotten over my high school sweetheart. We swore we were best friends and soul mates forever, and dated from 15 to 23, then got engaged. I broke our engagement to date another guy. That lasted a month before turning sour. I realized I'd made a major mistake, but he was already dating another girl. He married her on my birthday. They're still married, with children. My birthday is now a yearly reminder of my horrible error. I sometimes hear he still carries a torch for me. I would never interfere in somebody's marriage; however, I'm in need of closure, and find myself mentally writing him to express my feelings. Life is short. I need to share my sincere apologies and let him know how special he was to me. I've kept this secret for too long.

You've "kept this secret for too long"? Too long for whom? As if the guy has just been sitting around all these years waiting for you to drop by and say, "I'm so sorry I've been somewhat delayed in trying to break up your family."

The way you put it, you just can't hold back, in part because of your teen pact, "We swore we were best friends and soul mates forever." Really? When I was in eighth grade, I announced, "Rollerskating is my life." Yet, here I am spending my days writing, not zipping around doing "shoot-the-duck." It doesn't help that you buy into the myth of the soul mate -- the ridiculous idea that there's one person out there who's absolutely perfect for you. Of course, this person will speak your language and maybe even attend your high school; it's never somebody thousands of miles away who's running around spearing wildebeests while wearing underwear made out of a gourd.

You have made a "horrible error," but it wasn't ditching the guy for some studboy who caught your eye way back when. That's just garden-variety 20-something rashness and stupidity. Besides, in your teens and 20s, you don't really know who you are, so you bond with a guy because he's kinda cute and likes the same movies. Meet the same guy at 35, and you could find yourselves vastly different. But, never mind considering that. You're too busy chanting "life is short!" -- while putting your life on hold and seriously screwing over the guy you're with (maybe for the entire 14 years of your relationship). Whoops, did you forget to tell him you're emotionally unavailable?

Maybe High School Harry does "carry a torch for you." This doesn't give you the right to grab it and burn his family life to the ground. Not surprisingly, you cloak what you're after in a "need to share (your) sincere apologies." How will that play out? "Hey, I'm really, really sorry, and by the way, should you feel like leaving your wife and children, I'll be outside in 20 minutes with a rent-a-car and a suitcase." Conveniently, mooning over a tragic lost love has none of the emotional risk of giving your all to a relationship that actually exists. If it really is "closure" you're after, decide to get on with your life, and exercise the self-discipline to do it. You'll finally be able to celebrate your birthday for what it really is: a yearly reminder that you're that much closer to having jowls -- a legit reason have the cake lady write "Sorry for your loss," and to swap out the candles for a tiny funeral pyre.

My girlfriend of almost a year recently moved in with me. I'm 42; she's 29. The week after she moved in, her friends made fun of our age difference and my supposedly looking too old for her. She's undecided about much in her life, and this increased her confusion. She'd never voiced problems with the age spread before, but after the flak from her friends, she started pulling away from me in public and acting like we're not connected. In general, she seems very dissatisfied. When I pressed her, she said she wished she were more physically attracted to me, and said she's never felt overly anything for anyone (religion and sex issues, abuse at home, etc.). She feels guilty that her feelings haven't deepened over time like mine. I told her the initial love drug never lasts; you have to work on a relationship. My investment so far seems worth working for. I guess I just need her to share with me more, keep me in the loop.

If you want a fair shake from a jury, rob a liquor store. You'll have your day in court instead of your day in the food court -- being judged by your girlfriend's clique of seventh-grader girlfriends from their jury box at Cinnabon.

Hope you don't think it impolite of me to ask, but what's your head doing all the way up there? Here you are, telling yourself you just have to get your girlfriend to "share" with you more. Um, perhaps you failed to notice, but the last time she shared, it didn't turn out so well: "You're old and embarrassing, and I can't bear to be seen with you in public." (But, hey, what's not to love?)

You also trot out the old saw about how you have to "work on a relationship," apparently confusing your girlfriend with stained grout. Sorry, but there's no amount of elbow grease you can put into this that will make everything come out okay. It would be different if there were a few issues mucking up a good thing. That's when you talk it out, rent space on a therapist's couch, and otherwise invest in the Self-Help Industrial Complex.

But, here's a girl whose favorite thing to do in the bedroom is probably hiding under the bed so you won't pester her for sex. Almost a year in, she finally admits she isn't attracted to you. Not only that, she seems incapable of being attracted or bonded to anyone due to a wad of serious issues she never saw fit to resolve. In case that didn't dissuade you, she doesn't seem to have opinions, just friends with opinions, and if she feels anything for you, it's a mild sense of apathy. Yet, you see all this as your cue to have the elder statesman chat with her about the staying power of the "initial love drug" -- which it seems she held in her cheek and spit out when the love orderlies had their backs turned.

The one person you really need to "share" more with is you. In the face of unpleasant truths, humans have a propensity to deny reality. This doesn't change reality; it just gives your misery tenure. Admit the truth, and you can get out of your "investment" instead of waiting for life to push your nose into the swampland so hard that you have to call it swampland -- or, rather, you have to concede there's little chance your girlfriend will ever come to the conclusion that home is where the old fart is.