So, this is a horrible topic for me.
I am a romantic. Not a flowers and chocolates romantic.
I’m not an “oops I forgot your birthday” kind of romantic either.
I didn’t really have a girlfriend until my senior year of high school. That relationship lasted for 2&1/2 years. 24 days after that relationship ended, I met a girl.
I went home the next afternoon and told my mother I had met the one. We had been at the same house party from about 8PM until about 2-3 AM and ended up crashing with some mutual friends. We had slept on adjacent couches holding hands. I hadn’t slept at all; I had met the one. We went out to breakfast the next morning and then I finally ended up at home. I was old enough not to get yelled at and my parents had known where I was(-ish). But I still got the looks, judgment and scolding. To this day, I believe that if you live with someone else, they should be aware of your comings and goings and if you won’t be home a day or two.
That turned into a relationship that officially ended 13 years and 30 days later. As I had told my mother that afternoon, I married that girl.
She was my soul mate.
Now, let me explain why I am still a romantic.
I used to believe that she was the one. Less than two weeks later, I learned the most important lesson in life.
Jeannette is the one.
Yeah. Our hands accidentally touched once and there were no fireworks, and other than that, I have never so much as touched her. I haven’t seen her dressed in anything but business casual. Yet I know.
That is the magic. That is the lesson.
If Jeannette is the one, then neither of them is the one.
If I gave you a handful of flower seeds, could you pick out one that was going to have red flowers? If you go to the pet store, can you tell which is the right puppy? If you wake up 30 years from now, laying next to the perfect person, could you ever tell me when you realized they were the perfect person?
We are all just seeds. I grew sunflowers in grade school. Each of us got to pick out 6 seeds. We started them and watched them germinate. Stuck them in dirt and watched them break through and bask in the sun. We took them home in little pots of some sort and we gave them a huge flowerbed to grow in. At the end of the summer, the center of each flower was the size of a dinner plate and they’d turn their necks and stare at the sun all day.
I picked those 6 perfect seeds. I could not have chosen better.
In this world, the seeds are not separated. The world just spreads open it’s hand and lets you choose from among all the people you know, the perfect seeds. Sometimes they grow into perfect friends and sometimes perfect lovers. No two seeds are identical, though all the sunflower seeds look similar. Not all the seeds will grow. Some seeds grow into brambles and some into rosebushes.
If you want to pick the perfect seed, choose it like a child would. Pick one. Love it. Worry about it. Take care of it. Watch it sprout roots and look for the sun. Appreciate it every day for everything that it is.
And when winter comes and the sunflowers die, mourn that loss. Feel the heartache, the sadness, but know that each of those 6 sunflowers made thousands of seeds. Of those seeds, pick a few and cherish them. Let other friendships grow. Wait until the springtime and plant whatever seeds you have saved.
People are just the seeds of relationships to come. Soul mates are the seeds that will turn into the flowers we will find most beautiful. Once we choose it and love it and work for it, it becomes more beautiful.
Perhaps this was the best topic for me. Especially today, as I get to go and stand next to one of those perfect seeds all day.