Dear Marocharim, What About "The One?"
This “advice column” thing is very addictive.
Anyway, some months back, a friend of mine sent me a rather interesting Friendster message that I’d like to pass off as a “Dear Marocharim” entry. Here goes:
October 13, 2007
Thank you for the comment you left on my blog.. Thank you for sharing with my your piece entitled “Kites.” It was definitely inspired!
I think I see what you mean.. I’m really glad to have read your piece.. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who believes in destiny.. =)
This whole thing now makes me wonder.. Do you believe that there is one person made for each of us? Do you believe in “the One?” I’d love to hear your thoughts on this..
Interesting problem. There are over six billion people in the world: you can just imagine the ratio of finding “The One.”
What is “The One?” I’m tempted to think along the lines of Keanu Reeves or Jet Li, but I assume that “The One” is this one person that is meant for you. “The One” makes up for all your inadequacies. “The One” is the cream in your coffee, the tomato sauce in your spaghetti, the ice in your beer, the butter in your bread, the puto of your dinuguan… you get the picture.
Finding “The One” is easier said than done. You make your marriage vows, saying you found the one you love, and next thing you know your marriage is on the rocks. I can’t help but think of this mathematically: there is a one-in-six-billion ratio of finding the perfect guy, even considering that all men have the potential to be drunken assholic wife-beaters in the long run.
Love, like many things about life itself, is supposed to be less-than-perfect for it to be enjoyed. You can find butt-ugly couples everywhere that enjoy their lives. Somehow, life becomes a miserable wreck if you only look forward to the cream in your coffee, the tomato sauce in your spaghetti, the ice in your beer, and the butter in your bread. There’s something repulsive about dinuguan, but it tastes a heck of a lot better than plain old puto. Lots of people are happy and content without “The One,” and I guess life is lived much better without having a “The One” to mess it up.
In the end, what matters most is that you’re perfectly happy and perfectly content with someone who’s imperfect: someone who’s not “The One.” Who knows, “The One” you’re looking for is just something – or someone – you have ignored for quite a while now. Or maybe, you yourself are “The One” you’re looking for.