What’s wrong with this picture?

Quite a few male friends of mine over the years have lamented the fact that they have tried to make it work with every sort of girl and nothing has ever stuck. The wholesome. The slutty. The introverted. The extroverted. Every race. Every size. Nothing has worked.

It all sounds vaguely familiar - probably because it sounds like the sort of things I complain about on a daily basis.

So what’s wrong with this picture. Here I am, complaining. There they are, complaining. And never the two shall meet. We aren't looking at each other, thinking that maybe we're missing something in the person across from us. And while that is the 'When Harry Met Sally' dilemma I've discussed before, it's a bit of a harbinger of why we're having said problems.

Of course these are friends I enjoy in a purely platonic way, and I’m sure they feel the same way about me. Positive, actually. But what can the fact that we’re mutually complaining teach us about what we’re doing wrong?

I think it means we’re going after the wrong type of people. But I’d like to think that I have a leg up on them. Why? I actually have the wherewithal to admit that I am going after the wrong men. I know what I’m doing isn’t working. And I am vowing to change it. But you already know that because I have already shared that plan with you, my reading “public.”

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But if it is broke, take a look at it, find the source of the problem, and fix it. Or, you know, keep banging it until it fixes itself. That’s more akin to my strategy, I’d say.