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You meet in a city where neither of you lives, at a convention or a wedding. The calls and e-mails are making the phone lines sweat; two months later he's begging you to visit. You tell the woman next to you on the plane that after years of searching you think you've met The One, and the two of you giggle with anticipation all the way to baggage claim. Thirty minutes later, when the carousel stops going around, she looks at you with deep pity and asks if she can give you a ride somewhere. That's the moment to go straight back to the ticket counter.