Positive music in my ears, the world has started moving this morning, messages from the one I love. Everything is as it should be. Happily, I prepare my morning coffee and think about the last few days. I think about the people close to me and their lives. I think about the situations that exist and that we are facing. I think about what these situations are a consequence of. The reflection quickly drifts toward relationships, life’s reality, and maybe psychology, and it revolves around choosing a partner.
We humans usually see our reality in shades of grey. In this dim light, we know how to navigate. From what I’m writing, you can all tell that I’m no longer twenty. Yet we sometimes come across people who are radiant within this picture. They shine like the sun and scatter flowers wherever they move. Beautiful. Fascinating.
I have such a person in my life. Someone who lights up the world for miles, yet whose carefreeness throws her under the first car in sight. Did you laugh? I did too. Unfortunately, in real life, it’s not that funny.
Each of us, I believe, builds our world like a puzzle, shaping our personality so that it comes as close as possible to our priorities. When this puzzle is complete, one piece remains missing. That piece is filled by our partner, and it is they who decide whether the work is beautiful, damaged, functional, and how long it will last.
Despite how tempting it is to choose a partner who is the same as we are, it is often not the best choice. He understands me without words, knows what I want to say before I even think it—this harmony is fascinating. But let’s pause and consider whether we would actually want ourselves as a partner. Sure… take more than a second for that thought. None of us, deep down, considers ourselves ideal. Each of us would find something about ourselves that we wouldn’t want to find in a partner.
Attraction. What I described above. But is that all? Perhaps there is also a need. A need for someone to hold my hand and not allow me to throw myself under a car while I’m dancing with flowers.
This is the only life we have. Love for a few weeks already came with Shakespeare—we don’t need another one.
Maybe it’s good to have someone who complements us. For those who dance, it’s a hand that guides them through life; for the serious ones, someone who softens life. Yet everyone can change, and love is capable of miracles. And sometimes even a dancing fool can become that very hand that guides.