it’s a marathon, future wife
A question I get more often than I’d like is…
“How are you still single?”
Sometimes they mean it in a supportive way. “You’re great! Why hasn’t one snapped you up yet?”
Sometimes it is more of an accusation. “What is wrong with you? Everyone else has found someone!”
Sometimes it is a celebration at my expense. “Take that, Smuggy Smuggerson! Being all snooty hasn’t worked out for you, has it?”
Orrrrrrr maybe I’m just reading too much into it depending on my mood and whether or not I’ve had lunch yet..
In any event, my eventual, moderately sensible answer is always the same.
“I just haven’t met the right person at the right time.”
And I believe that.
Right person. Right time.
Now, despite being kind of annoyingly romantic, I don’t truly believe that there is only one single person on the planet for each of us. But I do think that the list of possible BIG loves is pretty damn short. And probably really geographically spread out.
So when you do find one of your people, you hold on like a son of a bitch.
You fight for it.
You plead your case.
You use words that cause the spirit to soar.
You show the tenacity of a warrior, the support of a best friend, and the soul of a poet.
But sometimes it can’t be rode out.
Sometimes forcing it can damage the wonderful, fragile and so very rare thing you had in the first place.
So you have to wait.
And while it is destroying your soul, you have to remind yourself about timing. Yourself will scoff at you and call you bad names. Yourself can get riled up sometimes.
The right person. (Sometimes you know quickly, and sometimes it has to grow on you.)
The right time. (It will eventually happen.)
The most ridiculously complicated simple thing in the world.
Love is an awesome little weirdo.
It decides when it is going to show up. It decides how obvious it will be. It intrigues. It challenges.
And it rewards.
It rewards those who are worthy. Those who put in the work. And those who will bravely step back when necessary.
When you read this, I want your take away to be that I’m going to remain patient.
I’m going to remain positive.
I’m going to remain delightful and adorable.
There’ll be some stumbles, of course. There’ll be some bad days and overwhelming days. We’ll question things.
Hell, even Marshall and Lily probably missed with that overhead, side-by-side high-five thing the first time.
But we’ll know. Down deep? Damn right we’ll know.
My darling, I hope it makes you feel better tonight, as you drift off to sleep, to remember that I’m out here. Thinking good things. Imagining a wonderful future. Wanting to be your teammate.
And that I know, without even the tiniest of doubts, that you’re so fucking worth waiting for.