It Had to Be You

For some reason I’ve had Frank Sinatra crooning in my head: “It had to be you. It had to be you. I wandered around, and finally the found the somebody who could make me be true, make me be blue, and even be glad, just to be sad thinking of you.”

Let me tell you, Sinatra is a light-year leap ahead from the days when it was Barney’s “I love you. You love me” insidiously snaking its way throughout my cranium ALL DAY LONG! But I digress…..

Coupled with Sinatra are snapshots and film reels from none other than “When Harry Met Sally,” one of my all-time favorite sitting home alone on New Year’s Eve dreaming about meeting the love of my life movies.

Taking center stage in my mind is Harry, running through the darkened streets of NYC on New Year’s Eve, racing to Sally before the stroke of midnight, to tell her that he loves her and that when “you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to begin as quickly as possible.”

Being a hopeless romantic, someone who loves love and the notion of soul mates, star-crossed lovers predestined by God or (and) the Universe to find one another, after undergoing the trials and tribulations that shaped them into the perfect match for their other half, when they least expect it … my way of thinking certainly has its drawbacks – to the average onlooker.

I have been married twice. And it would seem as though I am about to be divorced twice. The funny thing is, had I never legalized and legitimized these relationships, they would simply be relationship break-ups, which does not carry the same albatross like weight of two failed marriages.

Ultimately, I suppose, it all comes down to perception.

A dear friend of mine, who has been married three times, put it this way: obviously we BELIEVE in love and the institution of marriage. Otherwise, we wouldn’t keep trying to get it right, would we?

Proffering this analogy, my friend went on to pose the following fodder for thought: imagine you are getting ready to board a plane to -- here I am taking the liberty of inserting – Paris. There are two planes on the runway. One of those planes, after logging hundreds of hours and thousands of miles in the sky, has never had any problems requiring tinkering or fixing. The other plane has had a few mechanical issues; however, it has been recently serviced, gone over with a fine toothed comb by a team of seasoned mechanics, ensuring that it is in tip-top shape and ready to climb the skies.

The question is, which plane are you going to board to embark on your journey? The plane that is seemingly perfect or the plane that has had a few kinks has been worked on to be the best and safest plane for travel?

Nothing is ever as perfect as it might seem based on outward appearances alone, right? By this logic, I suppose I would rather take the plane that has had problems but worked them out – as opposed to a plane that, never having displayed any problems prior to the flight, might implode mid-air.

Too often I beat myself up for all of my imperfections and human flaws. Perhaps I have made some impulsive, unwise choices. My intentions, however, were always in the right place. I got married because I believe in the institution, because I believe in love and romance and the possibility of happily ever after.

Rather than blame myself for being a failure, I choose to believe that my marriage(s) did not work because I married the wrong people – not bad men – just men who do not share the same ideals and beliefs about love and marriage as me.

While I may be a hopeless romantic, I also understand that there is a realistic side to marriage. Loving someone is easy. Staying married for 50 years – that takes work. But that work has to come in a combined effort.

I used to love to watch the Crew teams practice out on Biscayne Bay in Miami. Those men and women had to work in unison; they had to going in the same direction to propel their water craft to victory. When one team member gets tired, the other one puts in a little more effort to compensate. Then they trade off. The effort might not always be 50-50 at the time, but over the long haul, it balances out harmoniously.

This is what I want – a partnership. I love LOVE and the idea of romance and happily ever after and I believe it is possible. I want a partner who is willing to put forth the same effort as I am – who will go the distance and finish the 26.2 mile marathon no matter how daunting the task.

Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love. I have faith and hope that my love is out there somewhere. Who knows, he might even be reading this right now.