How do you know when the person you are seeing (or the person next door, or the person you broke up with a year ago) is “the one”? Some of us leave it to chance, or a feeling, or something less than tangible. Some grab on to certain actions or cling to words.
I have never been one to say “I have a type” (of guy) or “I know he’s the one if he does X.” In the greater scheme of things, even though I’ve been accused of “overthink” (see a mid-January blog of this year for a refresher), I really can’t put a finger on what I know to be “the one” quality, or I can’t even define my type. Granted, I do sort of prefer the preppy ones to others (again, reference a previous blog somewhere back there), I can’t claim a particular type.
But a certain type doesn’t equate “the one” status.
Somewhere around this age, it seems like the next step. Finding “the one.” I’ve done the schooling thing (and then some). I’m doing the career thing. It’s the logical next step.
One of my most insightful memories from Mom came when I asked her about her marriage to Dad. You see, she had been proposed to prior to my father coming along. Twice. And she turned them both down. The little exclamation point (!) goes off in my head. I mean, wasn’t she afraid nobody else would come along? How did she know?
She told me that while she may not have known that Dad was “the one,” she did know that the previous two were not. That simple.
I think I keep that in perspective now. But coupled with that, I have discovered that certain men have left “signs.” In fact, there are four of them. Only one man somewhere back in my history has attained all four. And by no means do I think all four should be present. I have even dated a zero sign guy for several months. But now I am realizing that these little signs may actually have something going for them. No more zero sign guys.
Here are my signs: (in no particular order)
–a breath-taking kiss
Butterflies are those silly things like getting giddy when his name pops up on the cell phone screen. Even several months later.
Fireworks are the sparks that erupt when you two are together. From laughing uncontrollably together in public to just falling into a natural rhythm together without thinking about it.
If your first kiss wasn’t breath-taking, don’t hold out. It’s usually there the first time (or not at all). Heart-racing. Breath-taking. Weak-in-the-knees.
A simple brush of the hand across your arm will send goosebumps. It sets your heart in motion. Just a touch.
These are my four things. All four is like gravy. One is a minimum. I won’t settle for a zero signer anymore. That much I know. Because butterflies won’t come three months in. And fireworks don’t take weeks to come to fruition.
These are my four signs. The next candidate need not apply unless at least one is present.