We are led to believe that one can only be happy with love. The search for that special someone should be our foremost purpose in life. No matter where you go, this thinking is reinforced. You hear it in songs.
Some radio stations use love and loss as their sole premise for song lists.
You've read about it in numerous formats - Shakespearean Prose, Judy Collin's novels, your Penthouse Forum submission of you and Swedish twins who dig short guys. TV has it's share of material with soap operas, teen dramas, and comedies that poke fun yet ultimately glamorize the game of love. Movies are guilty of being the most blatant of all mediums for this obsession, with their improbable Hollywood endings as any and all movies starring Hugh Grant, Meg Ryan, or Mickey Rourke will attest to this. Even in the supposed privacy of our own cellphones, forwarded text messages of love, teddy bears, and creative pornographic images that moon, screw and squirt are received every hour, proffering love and lust. Our daydreams, crafted by the hour, will almost always involve the finding of that special someone to make you feel brand new, whatever state of undress they are in.