The triumph that biology wields over our logical selves is the gnawing feeling we get that the perfect person is out there…somewhere…if only we could find them.
Yes, I am writing about that elusive person who will fill our desires and fulfill our needs. He or she is right now working, or working out or cleaning their bathroom or cooking or walking the dog or doing just whatever it is we think the dreamboat partner would be doing. Every breath they take makes us happy. We could have such a life together!
Which makes them a dream and not a dreamboat because this person does not exist. We know this truth intellectually, but choose to ignore the cold reality to indulge the fantasy.
There is no perfect person out there. No. One. And yet every day we deluded singletons harbor a flame of hope that somehow this person will turn up in our lives. All we need do is look harder, or go to the right bar or discover the right dating app or attend the right party etc etc.
This is the cereal aisle problem. Because the choices are apparently limitless, there must be just ONE pre-packaged breakfast food that meets all of our requirements, right? It’s not too much to ask, is it?
Just one. Just the one. Just the one I am looking for.