Dating Diaries 25: The One

I was distractedly bending the straw in my water glass back and forth. “That’s really cool,” I said in a low voice. I looked up into his eyes, and slowly nodded as I gave him a smile. Everything he said was really cool. HE was really cool. 

We had been sitting at the Korean restaurant for almost three hours, our tofu soup bowls having been cleared and our cups filled multiple times. I could have sat for hours longer. 

He exceeded two desires I secretly treasured in my heart, one thing my young adult pastor had advised to look for in a partner, and another that my mentor (almost a grandmother) had told me she was praying for. And on top of all that, he was just a really nice, sweet, brilliant, talented, personable guy. And I couldn’t stop smiling when I was around him. I liked everything about him. 

He had recently stopped by my house, met some of my family, played on the piano. My mom had given me a knowing look, a small smile, which instantly told me that she liked him. And maybe even that she could see how I felt.

I had never felt this way before. If someone would have asked me what feeling in love was like, I would have said that this was it. In fact, I may have even said that I thought he was “the one.” 

This was nine years ago this week. Maybe that’s why I’m thinking of it. 

There wasn’t a second date. He was leaving, wasn’t that interested in me, and I was so immature, and not very emotionally healthy. I can look back (with regret and sadness) and see that now. I couldn’t have been in a relationship until I journeyed through healing, growing, and maturing in several areas.

So, did I miss out on “the one”? Is there even such thing as the one? 

He moved out of state just months after that night, and I heard a few years later that he had gotten married. Some friends recently showed me a picture of his family, third child on the way. He seemed to be doing well, and I genuinely felt happy for him. He was such a great guy. 

But . . .  he wasn’t “the one.” 

Grieving over disappointments and lost hopes is certainly valid . . . and I think healthy. It’s letting go. 

It’s been really sad for me to walk away from a relationship with two different guys during this recent six-month period of dating. Really sad. I mean, I cried sad. But both my mom and a friend asked me the same question: “Do you think you’re really sad over these guys?” And I let them lead me to the conclusion that I was more sad over the disappointment of them not being what I was hoping for. 

And I think that’s true of this guy of nine years ago. I’m not necessarily sad over the loss of him. But I’m sad that it wasn’t the right one. 

So, is there the right one? I think there is the right one when it does work out. 

Really, anyone can be the one. The one that I commit to, the one that I love, the one that I enjoy being around. The one that I make a life with. 

That person . . . whomever he may be . . . will be the one. 

And, I’m discovering that it’s okay to look at both romance and reality. My friends love their husbands. And they obviously love marriage enough to wish it for me. So, there is relationship between a husband and wife that is beautiful and romantic. 

But there’s also reality. Three different girls, in a girl’s small group this week . . . THIS week . . . just shared how hard it is to be married, that it isn’t what they expected, and that God has been using it to make them more patient people. 

And that’s life. All of it bundled into a crazy, messy, beautiful journey. 

I want to let myself grieve the losses, be realistic about expectations, be healthy and wise in my relationships . . . and . . . be hopeful. Hopeful that all of this is worth something, whether I end up in a long-term relationship or not. I’m growing. 

And I’m continuing to hope.