I am a part-time yoga teacher and aspiring screenwriter living in L.A., married for 12 years to a thoughtful, kind, lovely man who appreciates my sense of humor and loves music the way I do. Unfortunately, I am not (and haven't been for quite some time) sexually attracted to him. My problem: I met a man, a student in one of my yoga classes, who arouses fantasies in my mind. I have never fooled around on my husband, never thought I would, yet this man is very attractive and seems to be sending discreet signals that he finds me attractive. He knows I am married and has hinted at getting together for something to eat, has sent postcards when he is out of town, and Christmas cards. I am so ripe for an affair it isn't even funny. I know the pitfalls and I recognize that it is my need for excitement that is causing me to consider betraying my loyal and faithful husband. However, I am sad and miserable at the thought that I will spend the rest of my life in a sexless marriage. Do you have any words of advice? Yoga, ironically, hasn't helped enlighten me.

I am a single, 47-year-old woman in San Francisco who would like to fall permanently in love with the right man. I've been worried that I'm not attractive, but I think it's a problem of volume; I need to meet a larger number of straight, well-read, available men in their 40s. I keep trying to imagine where they are, and I'm afraid they're all home drinking beer and watching the ballgame, or reading something wonderful they've ordered from Amazon. I hate meeting people through ads, and trying to come up with a cute pickup line for a guy in a museum whose wife is probably standing in front of the next painting is not my idea of a good time. What do you suggest?

I'm a youngish (35) academic who is afraid she's running out of luck. I got my Ph.D. four years ago from a good school with a well-respected advisor. Since then, I've held two temporary positions in a state far from everyone and everything I care about, but I haven't yet managed to land a tenure-track position. I'm weak on publication, in part because I haven't had enough stability to settle down to work (but also, I worry, because I'm just not good enough). I'm beginning to face the prospect of not making it as an academic. But I can't imagine another life as rich and interesting as that of a philosophy professor. I worry that if I leave the academy I'll feel like a failure the rest of my life. I'm smart and passionate about life and the world, and I know I have something to contribute, somewhere, but I can't see myself clear of this sorry state of my life. What should I do?

I fell in love with a German woman here in Iowa, a very endearing and outgoing person, and then after a year and a half, she moved back to Germany to raise her children there. I visited them a couple of times in the past two years, but it was impossible to hold onto the relationship at that distance, and we parted. Half a year later, we began writing again. Now, she is planning to visit Iowa, letting her children stay with their father (he lives in this town), and she wants to see me.

I'm excited; my dreams still turn her way often. Yet I don't want to set myself up for romantic doom when she leaves. I have deep feelings for her, and since dating Ms. Germany, I've not felt anything remotely similar for anyone else. I'm trying to be optimistic, but no one else is on the horizon for me.

Until two years ago, I didn't believe in true love or soul mates; then I fell in love with my best friend and fell badly. She returned my love. But she decided she couldn't leave her boyfriend of seven years. She broke off with me after a short, glorious affair. I tried to remain friends with her, but it proved to be too painful for me to be around her, so I took off for a trip around the country. I haven't spoken to her since, though I think about her quite often.

Last October, I started dating a colleague at work. I reluctantly fell in love with her. She is a wonderful woman. We laugh together, hold hands like love-struck teenagers, feel incredible sexual passion for one another and we are also great friends and share the same goals of traveling and building creative lives before settling down to have a family. I can see myself spending my life with her. Yet, in my heart, I do not feel the same transcendental "connection" to her that I felt with my first love. Is there only one soul mate for each person? Can a soul mate connection be cultivated, or is it simply there or not? Does a commitment to living a life together need to be based on such a connection, or is it possible for ordinary, mundane love to sustain a partnership?

Am I cheating on my current love by thinking about my ex so much, and pining for that sense of "spiritual" connection?

What is it with the single Gen-X-ers of today who constantly complain about being alone and uninvolved, and yet they never do anything about it? I'm a 27-year-old grad student with a large circle of friends who socialize frequently: At parties, nights on the town, dinner parties, etc., everyone is constantly complaining about "being alone," or "being uninvolved," but no one ever seems to do anything about it! Opportunities to meet other people are abundant, but people prefer to stand around with friends and ramble on with their self-involved complaints about loneliness. Why aren't people meeting?

My older sister is a 34-year-old mother of four in her second marriage. She got pregnant right out of high school, and for most of her life, she's been an irresponsible person, getting herself into pretty much any trouble you can imagine. Through everything, my parents and I have supported her and bailed her out. Now, for the second time in 12 months, her husband has left her. He's a lazy bum who has worked about two weeks in the past year, and now I find out that he's been hitting her and may have hit my 14-year-old niece. She doesn't want to divorce him! Wanting to stay with a lazy, abusive, selfish man is beyond the comprehension of any semi-intelligent being. She has put my poor parents through so much and they are such sweet, naive people that I just can't take it anymore. I wish that I was an only child.