I had it made. She was beautiful, kind, spiritual, intelligent–classy but not fake, open but not bossy, healthy but let me have Doritos. She was everything I could have possibly wanted…oh yeah, and she was crazy about me. So what more could I have wanted?
“What more do I want?”
That is the question yielding the prevention of the intervention of history’s Pochontas’s and the executions of the John Smiths. It is the question that has led to regrets of the Nicolas Sparks-esque real life stories that almost were. And yes, it is the question that prevented me from going after that perfect girl.
Why are our heads on a perpetual swivel at parties? Why do we date five people at a time looking for that sixth girl who will change our world? Why are we so obsessed with finding the next…best…thing?
For me, it has been the paradox of choice daughters of God.
I have dated some incredible girls. Girls that are the best at singing, dancing, parties, humor, kindness, kissing…and (…okay, I’m too distracted now…) and other qualities. So when I’m dating one girl and she might not be the best at everything, I know that I can find something better. But here’s the issue: there is always better, it is because there is always worse.
There are so many choice girls, that it is hard to make a choice.
When I realized this for the first time, it was about 10 months after I told the aforementioned girl that we shouldn’t date. It was Christmas time, I was looking at all the family around me and realized now amazing that girl was and how I wanted to be with her. So I called her. I wasn’t going to let my fear sacrifice this opportunity!
Ring. Ring. Ring… She answered. First good sign. (and the last one of that day…)
“Hey there stranger! [insert small talk] Sooooo…I was calling to say sorry. I am just so stupid and I think you are so amazing and perfect and I was thinking about how there is nothing more I could possibly want than you. I don’t want to date other people. I will do what I need to do to prove to you that I am being sincere. I will fly out to you, I will make time for you every day, I will quit Doritos….”
“It has been a while…” she said with a sigh.
“I know, but–“
The sacrificial knife that my proverbial fear was wielding slipped, missed the opportunity and just stuck me in the heart.
“I completely understand.”
So where is the cure? How do you feed the more monster?
Very simple. (…in theory.)
Instead of focusing on making the right choice, focus on being the right choice.
Instead of asking “what more do I want?”, ask “what more can I become?”
Instead of looking for something to get, look for something to give.
So lose yourself in charity or lose your chance at love.
Now I admit that there is better advice and I’m sure there is more out there, but for now…I’ll stick with that.