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Perhaps one of the most voraciously read stories in everything from fiction to journalism are ones that let us live in the shoes of someone in love, or wonder how it is that they found love. From romance novels and films, to the self-improvement, wellness and the cosmetics industry, countless dollars are spent yearly in pursuit of learning about love, attracting a mate, or when all else fails, we at least want a second-hand experience in what we imagine a perfect romance would feel like.

It might not be beyond the bounds of reality to consider something: that our curiosity surrounding the mysteries of love could transform - turning into real results in our lives - if we really focused down on something incredible that I am about to reveal to you.

It might even save you a whole lot of money.

The real secret of attracting a mate isn't really a single secret. It's THREE.

There are precisely three kinds of attraction, and if you understood these in detail, there would be no more confusion in your love life. You need ALL THREE to be operating in your romance if you want that kind of durable romantic relationship that makes you ecstatic to be alive, and more "in love" with just one person with each passing day.

P.S. That goes for MEN, as well as for women.

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I could start out with "Welcome. Let me introduce myself to you...I'm a white-coat clad psychiatrist who can help you with your troubles..."

But that's against how I usually am with people. I consider most everyone a potential friend, and I'm a very normal (but some say rather attractive), approachable, everyday guy who loves to play practical jokes on my friends, socialize, and generally stir up debates.

Not the stereotypical "white-coat" academic. I get bored VERY easily, and stay as current on pop culture, music, film, fashion, and what's cool and hip as I do on what's the latest in the science literature. On the first day of medical school I looked around and wondered what in the world I was doing there. I mean, the rest of my life seemed so PLANNED OUT.

"They" had a great plan for me.

I was told that I "should learn to like golf."

I was told to borrow more money for school than the cost of mortgages on two large mansions (nestled on golf courses I would never get to play, because there would instead be endless lines of patients to see, all neatly arranged in a dayminder kept by someone other than me - an HMO manager, or some other sterile euphemism for "The Man.")

All that borrowing would be for the privilege of working about 100 hours a week - minimal socializing or dating, obviously - for seven days a week through most of my twenties.