Thoughts Pertaining to The One and Our Love

Nearly two months ago after watching the movie Love Actually, I was asked whether I believed that there was only one person out there for us. Causally I laughed off the uncomfortable question and iterated a logical reply.

"With almost seven billion people on the planet, there has to be more than one."

Though the answer sufficed the question well enough. Now, I find myself compelled to explain the response.

As children our parents teach us by there actions with their significant other, and their supporting words, that there is only one for us. The perfect one, the right one at the right time. This, for the most part is supported in the television shows we watch; after all, what Disney says, goes.

In reaching adolescence, we leap forth into love with reckless abandon expecting only good things from it. Few of us, and by few I mean the less-than-one-percent few, are fortunate enough to find someone who is just as willing and uninhibited to love and be loved. This one percent is the object of envy of the by way of poem, novel, movie, music and art the world over. Deeply emoting the serendipitous nature, and the mystical quality of this less-than-one-percent crowd with awe and amazement. Having been a spectator of such that can only be called a phenomenon, there truly is something to be said, in any way possible, of such love.

The rest of us, have found ourselves mildly, and in some cases gravely, cheated by the tellers of tall tales who speak of such simplicity in love and loving. More often than otherwise we find ourselves searching idly for some semblance of our First Love within another; because, that first love was euphoric and a ride like none other. Yet, when the magic of this faded, we were left with pieces of a heart we could not recognize and forever changed are we.

As we mature, we come to find that is increasingly difficult to find what we commonly call true love only to find ourselves in the bed of another still feeling lonesome, at the bottom of our spirit of choice rationalizing away the missteps of a relationship gone awry and clamoring for justification and support for our decisions and interpretations of the situation we call The Game.

At this point in my life, I am not at liberty to state a position as to whether or not there is only one for me or for anyone else in this world. Yet the willingness to love and be loved, through observation and experience, becomes increasingly difficult, because the confusion leaves an irresolute feeling; hard to quell and even harder to forget. These attempts change us into better or worse lovers than before. The case of the Nice Guy turned That Guy or the Good Girl turned Tease are byproducts of hearts that felt nothing because they received nothing and seek nothing more than attention for an indeterminate amount of time. Little are they aware their actions precipitate more turns for the worse out of lack of personal insight and understanding of the bigger picture.

As a society we have come to take for granted the givings of others, whether from a parent, and friend or a lover to expect that such much be done simply because we exist. Fortunately, and unfortunately, we have been blessed with few real tragedies to bring the perspective of the fragility of life into a more vibrant life.

Perhaps without the tragedy, we can find the compassion, and unlearn the fear to love and to be loved, but until then I will wait for the Sun to rise and the snow to fall evermore.