I wonder how often it is in a single lifetime that we think we’ve found the one we’re to be with forever. I mean, the finite forever. For as long as we’re breathing, how often do we find someone who suits us so perfectly, that we believe we should spend the rest of our fleeting lives with them?
It’s weird, how that person or those people can provide us with such energy to send electrical waves through out our veins, while being the same person to remain steadfast and calm our hearts in the wildest of storms. How they unravel a little more about themselves everyday; their fears and addictions, their favorite pizza places and how much they truly love summer thunderstorms.
They’re often a thorn in your side because they occupy your mind even in its most subconscious state.
“I bet he would love this song” or
“She’d hate this pasta sauce, it’s much too watery”.
Yet they’re the breath that gives you life. You crave being near them, inhaling the air around them. You’d rather be in a messy truck in the rain, talking about life with them at all hours of the night than anywhere without them. Hell, you’d take the worst with them over the best with someone else any other day.
How many times do we find that person to crawl back to after every mistake, and cling to when we’re sad, and long for when we’re lost?
Is it one too many times, that we believe we’ve found the person we could scream at in rage and moments later fall into their arms with an apology? Or is it just the perfect number, that leads us to the person we’re to spend every Sunday afternoon eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s with, belly laughing over a comedy for the rest of our lives?
And at which person, out of all these people whom occupy our minds, is the perfect number to stop searching?