Thoughts on the finding the perfect someone...

So a friend of mine told me that I was supposed to write my own thoughts about my relationship, love, Tony, weddings, whatnot. I’m not sure what to say. Not so much because I have nothing to say about any of it, but more because I feel like now I am on the spot to wax philosophical. Sound smart. Make everyone weep with the eloquent things I have to say. But I digress. Back to the matter at hand…

When I was a kid, I had a picture in my head of what my wedding was going to be. There was a strapping man standing next to me. Muscles, stature, a sense of protection and security…the works. His face was always vague though. Something fuzzy and indistinct. Probably because I hadn’t found the right guy yet. Anyway, I wear some sort of huge white dress. Something with sparkles and ruffles, I’m sure…it was the 80’s then. Digressing again. The thing that I always knew though—really knew—was that the day, the man, and the choice we made to be together were perfect. Not in the puppies and flowers sort of way, but the deep down, body and soul this is the way it was supposed to be sort of perfect.

A person will have dozens of relationships time and again to replace those childhood fantasies. Some are gut wrenching, some are bittersweet, some are just simple mistakes of time and circumstance. But at 14 when I had my first boyfriend, or 16 when I had my first heartbreak, or 20 when I had my first true love I was still too young, too fresh, too naïve to really know what love was supposed to be. A person needs those experiences though to grow, to hurt, and to reach a place in their life where they can stand before that certain someone and know—really know—that the it is perfect. A person’s heart needs to swell and break a thousand times before the calm sets in. The tears need to dry, the wounds need to heal, and the soul needs to ready itself for that other. Only then is the moment amazing.

I wish I could say that I felt the light turn on the moment I saw Tony across a crowded room. I wish I could say that I knew after my first relationship, or my second, or my third. But I didn’t. And neither did he. We needed that growing to come to this place, at this time to make our stars align and our paths cross so incredibly. The wait is long—interminable at times—and the pain of all the other lost “loves” is indescribable to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves, but what I feel now is so completely worth it, and unbelievably amazing.

I feel…quiet. My heart and soul are quiet, however trite that might sound. The confusion, the frustration, the fluxing of a relationship that was not meant to be is gone. Simply and purely without pretense or circumstance I know that I love completely and unaffectedly someone who feels the same for me. I can look into his eyes and see a future stretching before me and I am excited and anxious for that future to begin. My rough edges are smoothed away. My fears are calmed. My pain is eased. I am complete. I am whole, but its not Tony that makes me whole. What I realize now is that instead of finding that feeling outside of myself, Tony helps me to make myself feel complete. Love isn’t a puzzle. It’s not a matter of using someone else to fill in your gaps. It’s a matter of filling in those spaces yourself, and having someone to support you in that process. I am better when I am with Tony, and I know that the feeling is mutual.

Maybe its fate. Maybe its luck. Maybe its kismet. Maybe it doesn’t matter. What I know is that I have found my match. In all the people in all the world, the man who is supposed to be with me, is. So I can wax philosophical forever, but in the end, I have found my end.