I thought I would meet him in high school, my true love. We would know each other, but not well. He would look on from afar, a secret admirer afraid to share his true feelings. When finally the secret came out, we would discover that we both adored each other and wanted the same things. There would be a kiss, our first. It would be one of those wonderful, out-of-control, I-wasn't-planning-this moments. I imagined that he would find me beautiful, despite my distaste for makeup and the fact that I was not Homecoming Queen material. I dreamed he would love me for exactly who I was and no matter what anyone said, he would be proud to stand by my side. The two of us would go off to college together and our relationship would be endless. This was my personal fairy tale, and I clung to it like a security blanket.
The problem with my fairy tale was that this mysterious man was terrible at showing up. I couldn't figure out why he didn't appear in high school, as I hoped he would. As I got older, I thought that he must be in college. I was always a little more mature than my classmates, so perhaps my fairy tale hero was a college student in disguise. I looked for him my entire freshman year. I waited for a while, indulging my friends in their stories of crazy sexual encounters and romantic dates. My fairy tale love was a no-show. Then it occurred to me. Of course! Maybe this incredible guy wasn't going to find me, I thought. Maybe I needed to find him. I began dating around, searching for a glimpse of the real thing among each man I met. I was so desperate for the fairy tale that I bought into the illusion, which evaporated the moment each guy decided he was ready to move on.
I became so blinded by skepticism that I nearly failed to recognize the real thing when I stumbled upon it. Nothing happened the way I originally planned. First of all, he wasn't my secret admirer. He was someone I met online, and after several weeks of phone calls, semi-reluctantly agreed to go out with. The day of our first date, a rainstorm of biblical proportions hit my city.When my date showed up (in a Scion, not a white horse), I looked like a drowned rat. I stepped into his car, and we laid eyes on one another for the first time. I was unprepared for his ocean eyes, which made my heart skip a beat. My knees shook as he drove us to the movies. When he parked the car, we had our first kiss.
"I didn't say hello to you properly," he said, and kissed me on the lips. I barely kissed back due to surprise! This guy was nothing like my fairytale hero, with his shy, secret-admirer ways. This guy was bold. What kind of fairytale was this, anyway?
Over the past five years, I've let go of my fairy tale. I discovered that reality is much more satisfying. The love of my life is not my rescuer, but my partner and equal. He is handsome and slightly nerdy, and he makes me laugh with his dry wit. I am often astounded by his brilliance, and even more by how unaware he is of it. He has the kindest, most loving heart of anyone I've ever met. Love comes easily to him, and he loves me more than I ever imagined someone would. We don't live in a grand castle far away, but in a little apartment with three crazy animals and some slightly beat-up furniture. It is far from perfect, and yet I can think of nothing I love more.
True love is not always a part of the original plan. Sometimes true love is the afterthought.
This is my entry for therealljidol. Thanks so much for reading and supporting me in the competition so far. I hope you will vote for me if you enjoyed this entry.