No.
LMAO! They don’t ‘em “smug marrieds” for nuthin’. 
I don’t know that I have much to add that hasn’t already been said, but this is a good point. I’ve had friends that more or less expect a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan thing to happen to them, and until it does, they just aren’t satisfied (guess how many of them have found what they’re looking for?). And that’s just not right… Society (American, I can’t speak for others) certainly ingrains us with the “necessity” of finding our “soulmate,” and pretty much tells us from the day we’re born that we aren’t complete with our “better half.” Movies, TV, music - it’s almost all about relationships in one form or another, and I’d say the majority of the things that happen in the movies/TV are pretty damn unlikely to ever happen to people in real life. This can certainly set people up for some unrealistic expectations. However, I don’t get the impression that this applies so much to people in this thread, though I may be wrong.
FWIW, I think love can be an incredible experience - I’ve learned more about myself and grown to be a better person because of the people I’ve been involved with, more so than I ever could have on my own. But having said that, it can also be messy, painful, hurtful, and all sorts of other nasty things that at times make you wish you’d never bothered. And unlike other people here defending “love,” I haven’t met my mate - every relationship I’ve had has gone awry one way or another - sometimes because of me, sometimes because of things out of my control. Hell, I’m sitting here on Sunday morning in my apartment all alone after having spent last night playing video games by myself. But for me, that’s all a part of life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way
Love is only is only good if it’s reciprocated.
When it’s not, it’s just a big pile of excruciating pain.
I could very well be chronologically younger than you, if not emotionally. Two mere years is nothing. Two years is only long-term if one is a gerbil.
It sounds to me like there are a lot of people still trying to be thirteen-year-olds. Real relationships do NOT work like movies or TV. It just doesn’t work that way. The Thunderbolt is nothing but a short-term response to immediate attraction. Acting upon it as if it were a grand and serious thing is the height of fatuousness. Hence the term “infatuation” (to be rendered stupid by). Yes, I’ve been infatuated, but then I had to learn to work for a living and stop living in a fantasy.
The “romantic relationship” perpetuated by movies, TV, and novels is a LIE. Real love does not work like that.
I don’t know if it’s worth it or not. Then again, I’m kind of bitter right now and probably not the best judge.
So we’re talking about romantic love again, are we? I think I’m becoming a horribly cynical person. I was always cynical, but these romance discussions have introduced that modifier.
What a question. “Worth it”- what does this phrase really mean? Worth what? Time? Money? Effort? Or is it one of those “Will I be satisfied with the results in light of what I have done to acheive them?” type deals? I suppose that’s up to the individual. And not to hijack anything, but I’m kind of starting to fail to see what the big deal is. There are other things in life besides “romantic love”, you know. It is not, so far as I can see, the end-all, be-all of human experience. (I doubt something so complex and individualistic has an end-all, be-all.) And lest you think I’m some sort of bitter lonely woman, I’ve been in a very satisfying relationship for the past 5 years. But my life does not revolve around him and my interactions with him. They are a nice bonus, but they are hardly my reason for being. Which some people seem think is the only reason for being- a stable pair-bond that is somehow deeply psychologically satisfying to the individuals involved.
I guess it’s just human nature, but it’s getting very, very boring, all these folk running around tormenting themselves because they have not managed to find that perfect someone, or even just someone at all.
So my answer to this “Is it worth it?” question is a bit complicated. “Love”, however you choose to define it, is certainly worth the effort one puts into it, but only up to a point. What that point is can only be determined by the individual. (And of course, well-meaning people on public messageboards.*) Wallowing in existential despair, with obligatory beating of breast and gnashing of teeth just because life has not shaped up to be a “Movie of the Week” is not, IMHO, worth anything at all. Certainly not the time and effort one usually puts into it, anyway.
*I kid. I kid because I love. See? And that didn’t cost me anything at all.
You’re being very judgmental, I think. I’d imagine two years can seem like an awfully long time if one puts two years of work into a relationship and it falls apart.
I realize my last post did sound awfully melodramatic and sorry for myself, which I am not—I love living alone and could never live with anyone else, again. It’s a shame in a way that “having a relationship” is pretty much off-limits to me (yes, Dogface, I am the disembodied brain of a nun floating in a tank), but my life has so many advantages and privileges to it that I would never think to complain.
Wow so many unhappy people 
Guess I need to post this as a disclaimer to my other posts. Love has been worth it for me. YMMV. Tax, title, liscence and registration not included. Do your own Due Dilligence
Guess I’m just a sappy person. My hubby saved my life, literally, except he didn’t know it at the time. We fit together very well. I cannot picture life without him.
Oh and I knew I was going to marry him after 6 weeks. So two years is plenty of time to establish a relationship.
I discussed this with my husband (epeepunk, if you care), over the weekend.
He reminded me of two things (you were looking for comments from guys, right?):
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Biologists have tracked the hormone cycle of people in relationships. That ‘first blush’ thing, that early passion that keeps things exciting is tied to a certain set of hormones, to which we become acclimated - we stop responding to them after a few years. I can’t remember if the average is 2 years or 4, but basically, once those wear off, you’ve got to have something else to back it up, or there’s nothing left worth keeping. This sound familiar? There is a second set of hormones that kicks in when there is a certain kind of feedback in the system, and that one we don’t ever stop being addicted to. This set drives the comfortable, companionable, best-friends-and-lovers behaviors.
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There’s talent, and then there’s craft. Without both, you’re sunk. Take acting - talent will get you started, and you can’t easily get anywhere without it. But without craft, you’ve got nothing to hold you up and keep you going when a role doesn’t light you on fire, or you simply max out your inborn abilities. CRAFT will take you the rest of the way. These are the learned behaviors, the things that take effort instead of being automatic, and easy. These are the things that you do that are counter to your first thought, because you actually took the time to think twice. The same is true for love relationships - that first kick will get you into it, but the only way to keep it going is craft, skill, practice, effort.
There are people who are definitely happy (not necessarily ‘happiest’ or ‘happier’, but certainly content, happy, complete, whole) alone. Most of the ones I know are in long-term committed relationships. Some found themselves there after the relationship started, others before. When you are capable of being utterly content alone, being in a relationships is a bonus, not a goal. It makes the process far more sensible, less desperate, and easier to withdraw from enough to assess the next step. My husband had discovered this about himself before we started dating. There was no need for him to have me (or anyone) with him, he was complete on his own. If he never found love, so what? I was almost there, but falling in love with him actually kicked me over into the full ‘I don’t need anyone but me’ side. I realized I loved him when I knew I could live without him, or with him, and I consciously chose with, but if he left, died, or whatever, it might leave a hole in my habits and my life plans, but not in ME. He’s so much a part of me that he isn’t a part of me… hard to describe, but he’s very much my foundation, and without him, I’d still have that foundation. Argh. I can’t say it in a way that makes sense (probably a first for me!).
The vast majority of my relationships were about 2-3 years long. Probably the ‘longest’ was about 3 months. I fell hard. He lit me up. He also didn’t fall for me, and rather than stick around and let me continue to torch my moth wings in his flame, he told me good bye. I didn’t fall out of love with him, though. It stuck. Without his presence, I loved him for years. (We remained in the same social circle, and were fairly good friends.) I did not pine, I did not pursue, I just loved, and lived with it. Through two, no three… dang, maybe four other relationships, including my former fiance’. I loved other guys, that is, but nothing quite compared. And nothing lasted, either. Not, strangely, because I was in love with someone else, but because by being in love with someone else, I was able to draw back enough to say, ‘no, this isn’t right - I want something more stable, or more equal, or more sane, or more respectful’. When I found sane, equal, stable, and respectful, I quickly found myself in a state that left every former love behind by so many orders of magnitude that it is nearly impossible to describe. I’d been in SO much love, so many times, I thought I knew what I was talking about. I was sure. Certain. And I was utterly wrong.
What I feel most of the time is not the thumpa-thumpa heart thing, or the blood rush of lust, or the nerves and sweats, or even the merry moment of discovery. It is peace. It is the Tao, the path unfolding under my feet without me having to guide myself to it. It is a sense of rightness, of looking up and knowing that he will look up at that moment, eyes twinkling, having thought the same thing as I. It is knowing that no matter our path, we’ll walk it alone, together. He does not complete me. I am complete. He is complete. And together, we are complete. We did not need children to be complete, either of us. And yet, with children, we are also complete. Each state is one that seemed inevitable, not ‘necessary’ in some anxiety-provoking imposed way - simply not possible to avoid. When we got engaged, he told his family that we were getting married ‘because we had to’ (and yes, one person did think that meant I was pregnant)… not because it was socially imperitive, or that we’d been together so long that it was the ‘right thing to do’, but because in our path together, that was the thing that was in front of us. It simply was. Just as staying together was in the path in front of us, and me going into therapy was in the path in front of us.
We do work at it. Relationships take effort, and you get out what you put in. But I’ve worked at other relationships, too. You’ve got to have that talent/gift initial click, that initial WOW, andsome underlying compatibility, to have the work part work.
I’ve found that most people, men and women both, play way too many games, and expect things that are unsaid. An expectation of mind-reading can lead to small wounds that bleed the long-term capacity dry. But no amount of being thoughtful about your relationship will keep it going if there’s no underlying connection. This, I think, is one of the reasons that I tended to date friends, and to place my friendship with someone I was dating above the value of the love relationship. I wouldn’t treat my partner worse than I would a friend, and I expect to remain friends even if we break up. That ensures that I play with respect, and I play fair, and I am honest and up-front about what I need, what I expect, and even when I don’t know what I want and what I expect.
I still think it is worth it. I had a string of relationships much like yours, Stainless - moderate length, enough to get into and find that it didn’t work. I’ve had five men think they wanted to spend their lives with me, and I’ve thought the same about three men (not a matched set, there, either) - and been wrong twice. I thought I’d been in deep, and was wrong.
If you are complete, in yourself, and need nobody to make you whole, then it doesn’t matter, does it? Seeking love because you hunger for something isn’t the best plan, IMHO. I’d say focus on being happy, and then, if someone clicks, you will be thrilled, and if they do not, it won’t destroy you. It will still hurt, because any time you start expecting something to ‘work out’ and it doesn’t, it hurts. But it won’t knock you flat in the same way. You’ll still be okay, and it will then no longer be a matter of whether love is ‘worth it’ - it will be a matter of whether it happens. No more, no less.
Or, you could take my dad’s approach.
After two disastrous marriages, he decided he was simply not cut out for relationships.
And then he found someone he clicked with, who was interested in him. Knowing that things ‘don’t work out with him’, he made the mental leap and insisted on couples counseling IMMEDIATELY. That is, first date, first trip to the counselor. No foolin’.
And it worked. He had someone else to help him work out how to relate to her, and show her how to relate to him, and they both grew, and because they were actually growing as a pair, with their partnership as a focus, they grew towards each other rather than away. (BTW, whole, complete people who grow do tend to end up together as they grow, because they chose from that position of wholeness - or that’s been my experience. The ones who grow apart often do so because they had a hurt that needed healing, and the healing changed their shape, and they no longer fit together anymore.)
They’ve been married for … 15 years? Not sure, but a good long while. He’s happier than he has ever been, that I know of. And they keep the counselor on retainer, because they know that two humans don’t always communicate well, and sometimes, if one or the other of them is lacking skills in some area, there’s no shame in getting training. Now and then they go back for a few sessions, to work out some new issue. In the process, each has become their own person, complete and whole. And they’re together because they choose to be, beyond just loving each other.
My favorite book on the subject of finding love is “The Missing Piece Meets the Big O” by Shel Silverstein. It says it like it is, short and sweet and completely true, IME.
You are a very lucky person.
First let me say that I am fairly new to this board, and I appreciate the fact that this forum discusses such topics, and almost no one gives another a hard time about it. I’ve visited boards that are just teeming with mean-spirited people; a thread such as this would probably be derailed shortly after it was started.
As for love being worth it, that’s tough to say; I guess it depends on each situation. When I was younger, I loved being in love, and would fall all too easily. Now that I’m 32, I’m somewhat jaded (hence my username) and still not married, so I’m beginning to wonder whether or not it’s even for me. I have been engaged before, but that’s as far as it’s gotten. I’ve also started to accept the fact that if I am to remain single, it won’t be so bad; at least I won’t let myself down or get on my own nerves.