He loves her but another she loves him.

I put on my listening ears and let a brother vent to me. He has a heavy crush on a lovely woman who yo-yos in and out of his life. At the other end he has a different woman who happens to have the dreaded one-way crush on him.

"It's Murphy's Law: I love her and she loves someone else while she loves me and I love someone else."
"I'd say that's more the norm than the exception, Hank."
"It should be simple. Why do I love what I can't have while discarding what I have?"
"Because you're a womanizing mess, and God is punishing you."
"You don't even believe in God."
"True. Your god is punishing you."
"Lovely."
"Let's work on the target of your affection first. Have you professed your love for her?"
"I bought her dinner and sent a text heart."
"A text heart?"
"Less than sign, three."
"Add 'adolescent douche' to the list of reasons why you're single."
"Shut up. Chicks love text messages."
"Whatevs. (That's my attempt to speak your language.) If you don't tell her eye-to-eye how you feel, she could misinterpret your intentions."
"She probably just wants me as a friend and if I open up she'll climb a tree."
"If you love her, she's worth the chase. Now, about your fan."
"Ugh."
"Is she unattractive?"
"No. She's gorgeous."
"What's her issue, other than the fact that she has horrible taste?"
"She seems too desperate for a boyfriend. If I agree to date her, I'll have to watch every step I take because she's so fragile."
"True, fragile toys are stressful to play with. Have you told her you just want to be friends?"
"No, because I might consider taking her on if the woman I love turns me down."
"See? This is why I date my wine glass and ride my bed solo."
"But I like having a girlfriend. I get sex and companionship and don't seem like such a pathetic, lonely turd by sitting at a wine bar night after night getting drunk with empty seats on either side of me."
"None taken, asshat. You'll never be happy with the chick who is chasing you, so shut that shit down. As far as the object of your desire, you had better make your intentions clear before she latches onto another man because you never made a move."
"What if she shuts my shit down?"
"Then you move on to the next love domino, trying to fall for each other."

"How do I get a boy to like me?" she asked.

A high school student asked me how she could get a boy to like her. I engaged my parental guidance filter, hired three witnesses, and made sure the cameras were rolling. Just kidding, but I had to temper my answer.

I initially felt sorry for the young lady. Even a kid doesn’t want pity. I didn’t want to discourage her by disclosing the hundreds of fruitless crushes I have had. I figured the best way to dance around this issue was to ask questions.

“How do you know he doesn’t like you already?”

“He doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Is he a movie star or something? If it’s Bieber, this discussion is over.”

“No, he’s gross. It’s a boy in my high school.”

“Is he under eighteen?”

“I guess so. He’s in high school. Why does that matter?”

“It just does. All right. Is he in one of your classes?”

“No. I just see him around.”

“Next time you see him, smile at him.”

“OK, then what?”

“See if he smiles back. If he does, walk up to him and say hi.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Make sure he’s alone so he’s not distracted.”

“Fine. What do I say after hi?”

“Start with small talk. Ask him what his favorite movie is. After he answers, tell him you won two movie passes, and ask if he’d like to join you.”

“What? No! Boys are supposed to ask girls out.”

“I know, but you can put it out there.”

“Ugh. Can’t I just leave a note in his locker?”

“Bad idea. He’ll read the note and assume it is from some cheerleader he has a crush on. Then, he’ll follow her around like a puppy. He’ll probably find out where she lives and drive past her house, hoping for a glimpse. Then, he’ll arrange to run into her various places. He’ll finally get the courage to walk up to her and he’ll stutter like a fucking (sorry) ass. She won’t even know who the fuck (sorry again) he is and she’ll think he’s a nerdy, douche-y stalker weirdo. Her ape-sized college linebacker boyfriend will walk over and give her a kiss. Then he’ll give the stalker kid a wedgie, which will send the kid into a deep depression, which he'll try to deal with by writing sad memoirs about how every woman he falls in love with is unavailable. Who knows? Maybe the lonely lad will publish a few books or write a movie script and drown his sorrows in bourbon.”

“…”

“Um. Yeah, leave a note in his locker. Great idea.”

It’s easier to give advice to mature women.

“How do I get this guy to like me?”

“Show him your tits.”

“You’re such a dickhead. Seriously.”

“Your ass?”

“Come on.”

“How about writing a note in lipstick on a bar napkin?”

“Welcome to nineteen-seventy.”

“Buy him a drink. Maker’s Mark is a fine choice.”

“Nice try. Get your own.”

“Damn it. Just walk up to the guy, get his attention, knock on the center of his chest, and ask, ‘Excuse me, is this open for business?’”