The One

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I thought about you again tonight. Your face wasn't clear, your image simply a blur on my mind's horizon. Your words were distant and not in any tongue that I could understand or grasp the meaning of.

And I thought about how, one day, that will be so different. I'll see you driving toward me in a battered white ute replacing the prince's horse, churning dust from under your wheels as you drop the window and ask, "Do you want to go get lunch?" And I'll laugh, toss my loose mane and jump in beside you on the journey that can be only taken by two. We'll sing along to the radio, laughing at our squeaking notes while the engine hums a lover's lullaby and the trees flash by in a haze of green and gold mingled with dappled shade. You'll open all the doors for me and try to buy everything, but I'll appreciate the gentleman and mock the would-be millionaire. We'll share hopes and dreams, love one another's families for who they are, debate politics and pretend that we actually know what we're talking about, share jokes with a split-second glance, get dirty while working our hearts out and glorify God in everything together. We'll understand each other to the core, get sick on French pastries and black coffee, comfort each other in pain and grief, pretend to be lost in our own backyards, mock and judge films in comfort, and - maybe - even ride into the sunset together. In short, we'll be perfect.

At least that's what the image in the horizon whispers to me. It entices me with candy-coloured dreams and Jane Austen worthy story lines whilst demanding that I proclaim loudly that I deserve to be loved.

But I'm a realist. I know that one day, we will fight over the fact that someone doesn't want to get sushi for dinner, you'll forget my birthday, and when yours comes around I'll have no idea what to get for you. I know that one day I'll weight more then the beautiful princess you thought you married and that your eyes will wander unconsciously. I know that we will hurt one another more than we could ever know, because only when you understand a person's heart fully can you kill it. I know that there will be harsh words from me about little things and annoying indifference from you over petty matters. I hate my heart and brain for being so different, but the truth is that my brain is stronger and always wins in the end.

But the figure on the horizon and in my mind says differently. It tells me "all you need is love", it mocks my brain for "having no faith", and dares me to never stop searching until I find 'The One.' It tells me love is amazing and I am incomplete until I am with my soulmate.
I admit, ashamed, that over the years my schoolgirl's wins and wishes have tried to decipher the face of this figure, pin-point it to only one wandering soul. And I admit, bruised, that I am too young to know or even need to care so much about something so small.

And now I think that I understand. The One that I think of, imagine dancing the night away with is not my prince, come to 'save me from from my singleness' and bring meaning to my life. He is not my personal Mr Darcy who is going to come to stir my wits and living mind into full flirtatious bloom. Sometimes, I do know, he is but a harmless stick figure, the sketching of an idle hand.

But more often then not, he is my worst enemy.

I build my castle-in-the-clouds at his hazy feet and expect it to last. I centre my hopes and dreams on something that I now believe can never truly satisfy, never quench a thirst for endless sentimentality. Idle hands aren't the devil's playground, it's the lonely aching hearts.

My heart and my brain are both wrong. Sure, maybe one day some fellow will drive up to my front door in a Toyota ute and we'll get lunch together, but that will happen when I'm not expecting and planning for it. Yes, it would be amazing but there are two sides to everything - we will laugh and cry, we will promise and then break those promises, we will look terrible after only three hour's sleep and we will enjoy peaceful sunlit evenings together.
But I don't need these things.
There is never any figure on the horizon in real life, just blood, sweat, tears and love. I was born complete, as I am, as I was meant to be. I will always be growing, changing, maturing into the person that God made me and maybe one day with the spouse that He chose me. But if not, who cares? There can only be something different for me in life, some purpose that I will serve better alone. This figure that all young women sometimes think and dream of is simply another blister on the road of singleness. Thank God He has the bandaids.