This subtitle is worth the price of admission. Looking back on my life it was the women who loved me, who were the ones I could have been myself with, who would have made me happy and not so alone. But, then of those I hurt, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs was a predictor of my subconscious. With a mother, who was in fact a supermodel, a beauty queen, and a quiet rock, who was always there, I bumped up against infatuation, like a man lost at sea. I accepted the impossibility of my quest, a kind of Ahab of the dull and dreary ocean, for the facts of being love’s Robinson Crusoe. I am nearly dead. There were three great and brief lovers, but nothing more. Choose, if you can, someone who will lie next to you all the live-long days as a friend, and fit like glue when the morning sun comes to roost. Roll over and express your needs and whisper joy to someone, who wants what you want. I have been with women, more beautiful than the arc of heaven, only to be thrown to the curb. They displayed panic attacks and when I came running to help, they were fine, and put off by my attention. That’s it, the lesson. There is nothing else to learn. Love who loved you first and put away false hope. Loneliness is it’s only expectation.