On Thursday D, as he frequently does, made dinner for me and a few of his college friends.
One of them has gone on a few dates with a girl that he likes, and all week had planned to call her the following night–Friday–in order to see her over the weekend.
The rest of us, myself in particular, took umbrage at this strategy.
“So if you want to hang out with someone during the weekend, when would you call them?” I asked the group.
“Thursday” was the immediate, obvious consensus. This suggestion provoked a response so aggravated, so extreme that even the guy in question couldn’t help but be amused–at which point the conversation turned comic.
“I don’t just think you should call her,” one guy chimed in. “I think you should marry the girl. Might as well propose.”
“You’re compatible, you’re physically attracted,” he continued, his wife making salad a few feet away. “That’s all you need. The rest you’ve got to work for anyhow. There’s no such thing as ‘the one.'”
This is a theory with which, in the abstract, I completely agree. There are lots of people one could find happy partnership with. With any of them, there would be persistent challenges. Different ones, perhaps, but challenges all the same. Sharing a life is never easy.
In other words, intellectually I know he’s right: the myth of “the one” is just that–a myth.
Emotionally, though, I’m not sure I do.