Finding THE ONE is easy

If that was the case, we'd all be married and I would have nothing to rant about everyday. So there, it's not easy. Or perhaps, we've made life so hard, that we can't do easy, because my problem isn't finding THE ONE, it's finding ANYONE.

I have been dating on and off for years now. I would like to think that I am quite the pro, though most of my friends are more open to the guys that they date. I am picky. Have too many expectations. Put up walls. Fall for the wrong dude, while totally ignoring the fabulous one.

Jimmy Choo was chubby, and he mountain biked all the time. But he thought I was HIS ONE. I always knew he was too big of an asshole (with a big ass). I mean seriously, I do have some standards, and agents are absolutely outside the parameters. Even if they do snowboard.

I dated one guy, Mr. Monday, the writer. He was more of a novelist turned TV producer. His plan was to find a wife in 12 months, and during the year of the dog, so he's more like the TRYING TOO HARD ONE. Of course, the year of the dog has come and gone, he tried and tried to bang me out, and you know... he's single and I couldn't bare to let him hit it. Slurring words at parties after too many Grey Goose Neats, begging, "Bunny, can be the good wing woman that you are? PULEASE?" Ugh. Fuck me. I mean seriously, the guy who wanted to find a woman, get married, and live happily ever after, is urging me to hook him up with the woman across the room with saddle bags and bad taste in shoes. Oh yea, Mr. Monday, I'll hang back and watch this train wreck while standing in the corner like the wall flower I never was and let YOU wonder aloud to me why I'm still single. You know the answer.

Then of course, there was the one that I thought was THE ONE. He was gentle, kind, and has softer hands than mine. Not very manly actually, but still made my heart pound. He wasn't ready, still isn't. But neither I am really. Although consumer moral is low on this one ever happening. Too many fish in the sea.

Now, here's one that will make your toes curl. I would like to call this one the ACCIDENTAL ONE. He's cute, but not totally my type. (Skinny, fit, in shapish). Still when I think of him I smile a little. He tried and tried for years, and I politely refused his advances. Then I made out with him. It was magical. He touched my face perfectly, grabbed my hair with authority, then invited me home with him. Of course under the circumstances I had to decline the offer. Then it became a downward spiral of accidental dates. Each inching closer and closer to the inevitable. Sex. For now we linger in temptation.

Clearly there are many ones, I'm guessing whenever I meet someone in the exact same place as myself, I'll settle down with the whatever one he may be. For now, I am the ONLY ONE, happily.