I Dont Know How We Will Meet Yet

I Don’t Know How We’ll Meet Yet

Today’s prompt asks:

“How did you meet your significant other?”

Well…

That’s an interesting question considering I don’t have one.

I don’t know why I chose to answer this particular prompt.

Maybe because somewhere between writing about love, relationships, marriage, healing, and everything in between, I started wondering what my own story might look like.

Ms. Mandy would probably tell you she’s about given up on her granddaughter.

“She’s too picky.”

And perhaps she’s right.

But I prefer to think I’m particular.

I’m a tough cookie, but here’s the funny part:

I’m actually pretty easy to impress.

You don’t have to move mountains.

You just have to know which mountains matter to me.

I want a man who knows how to make me laugh.

Who pays attention.

Who remembers the little things.

Who can surprise me.

Who understands that romance doesn’t always have to arrive wrapped in grand gestures.

Sometimes it’s simply knowing what will make me smile.

Sometimes it’s remembering something I mentioned weeks ago.

Sometimes it’s checking in because he knows I’ve had a long day.

Sometimes it’s consistency.

And honestly, consistency matters to me more now than intensity ever could.

I don’t want three weeks of overwhelming attention followed by three months of confusion.

I don’t want beautiful words that require me to ignore inconsistent behavior.

I don’t want to constantly wonder where I stand.

I want someone whose actions remain recognizable after the excitement settles.

Someone who is still present when ordinary life begins.

And when I say I want him to conquer me, I’m not talking about control.

There is a world of difference between the two.

Conquer my heart.
Not my freedom.

Win my trust.
Not my submission.

Pursue me.
Don’t possess me.

I want to be surprised by love.

I want the story to unfold in a way I couldn’t have planned myself.

Maybe we start as friends.

We talk.

We laugh.

We learn each other without immediately trying to determine whether we’re supposed to spend the rest of our lives together.

Maybe somewhere along the way…

friendship becomes attraction.

Attraction becomes trust.

Trust becomes intimacy.

And one day we look at each other and realize:

“Oh.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

That’s the kind of love story I want.

Not one I had to chase.

Not one I had to convince.

Not one where I’m constantly wondering whether he really wants me.

I want a man whose intentions are clear enough that I don’t have to decode them.

And whose consistency makes those intentions believable.

Maybe that’s why I’m still single.

Because I don’t want a relationship simply for the sake of saying I have one.

I’ve lived long enough to understand that being single and being lonely are not the same thing.

And I would rather wait for something healthy than rush into something simply because I’m tired of waiting.

That doesn’t mean I’m looking for perfection.

I’m not.

I know relationships require patience.

Communication.

Forgiveness.

Compromise.

Grace.

I know there will be difficult days.

What I don’t want is a relationship where uncertainty itself becomes the relationship.

I don’t want to spend my time trying to convince someone to choose me.

I want two people who choose each other.

Clearly.

Intentionally.

Consistently.

So yes, Ms. Mandy…

Maybe I am picky.

Maybe I am particular.

Maybe I do have a few expectations.

But I still believe there is someone who won’t look at my standards and see an obstacle.

He’ll understand that they were shaped by everything life has taught me about love, trust, peace, and my own worth.

And maybe the beautiful part is that I still don’t know how we’ll meet.

I don’t know where.

I don’t know when.

I don’t know what I’ll be wearing.

And knowing me, I’ll probably be somewhere minding my own business.

But I hope it happens by surprise.

Because after all these years…

I’d kind of like love to catch me off guard.

I don’t need it to arrive perfectly.

I just need it to arrive consistently.

And when it finally does…

I hope my biggest problem is figuring out how to call Ms. Mandy and say:

“Girl… you were right. I finally met him.”