did i ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

love you at ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

the wrong time, ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

or did i just ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

not love you ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

enough?

i could’ve sworn

we were happy

together.

what happened?

were we no longer

happy together,

or did the world

just decide that

our happiness

no longer

mattered?

no, i know

we were happy

together.

i know because

i loved you more

than life itself,

and so did you.

then why

was the world

so against

us

being together?

i don’t

believe in fate.

the choices i make

reflect the life

i lead,

not some supernatural

phenomenon.

but maybe,

just maybe,

if i had

believed in fate,

we would’ve

still been able

to have

our happy ever after.

I met the right person at the wrong time, but lucky for me, I got a second chance.

I was fifteen when I met my husband. A mutual friend brought him to youth group at my church. I thought he was a nice guy. Big, quiet, a little shy. He was definitely a geek (video games and computers), but I was a geek, too, though not quite the same kind (straight A's and marching band for me).

But at that age, I don't think I would have ever considered dating, and almost definitely not this particular boy. I was an awkward high school kid, and I believed that no guy would ever be interested in me. Through youth group and band, I hung out with a lot of boys, but it never crossed my mind that any of them could be interested in me. I just wasn't that kind of girl. I didn't wear make-up or cute clothes, and I was much more likely to challenge one of them to an arm-wrestling match than to giggle and flirt with them.

And yet, for some reason, the boys I tended to have crushes on were the ones that I considered to be way out of my league - the good-looking, smart, talented ones (and there weren't that many of those in high school). So, as much as I enjoyed my time with that big, shy nerdy friend from youth group, it never occurred to me that we could be anything more than friends.

And so, we moved on. We went to college and lost touch with each other. I met a cute guy in college who actually showed genuine interest in me. I was so flattered, so caught up in the notion that someone not only liked me, but wasn't afraid to tell me, that I ignored every red flag that popped up, and there were many. After getting my heart broken too many times by the only boyfriend I had ever had, I was ready to give up on love.

And I did for almost a year - ignored any thought of dating, refused to see any guy I met as a potential boyfriend. Until a gathering of mutual friends brought me and my nerdy friend back together again. After a few awkward encounters, we started to chat in earnest, and I began to see him in a very different light than I had before. He was still big, and quiet, and nerdy. That hadn't changed. What had changed was my perspective. I saw how sweet he was. How compassionate and kind. I realized how much fun we had together. And possibly best of all, I learned how honest and open he was. There was no hiding his true self or his feelings from me. Once he got to know me, he showed me exactly who he was, faults and all, and so I did the same.

It took a few months and some prodding from friends, but we finally realized how we felt about each other and started dating. Long story short, we've been together for eleven years and married for eight.

I know for a fact that I never would have recognized that boy as the "right person" if I hadn't first had the experience of dating the completely wrong person first. My husband had a similar experience. Just like me, he had dated one other person between the time we were in high school and when we encountered each other again years later, and like mine, his experience had been a sour one. We both are convinced that our negative experiences led us to each other and helped us to recognize our "right person," and we never would have seen it back in high school.

So yes, I did meet the right person at the wrong time, but that's okay, because years later, I met him again at the right time, and my life is so much better for it.

we

already mean too much

to me

you

already know too much

already own

my trust

scared to slip in a place

where we could possibly break

couples probably break

sooner or later

and then it’s too late

for us

they say

young love rarely lasts

all we’ve been building up

i want to keep safe.

once upon a time

i met the right person

walking through the train station

on a monday morning.

she didn't see me, not exactly

but she caught my eye just the same

another blurry face in a sea

of lost names.

i went right,

she went left, and we

got on our respective trains.

i almost tripped getting on

and fell flat on my face,

and that mortal embarassment

sucked up all my thoughts of her

leaving me a dry husk of shame.

i thought i'd never

see her again,

think of her again.

but i saw her again

the very next day

her face was on the news

as they started to say

that there was a train accident

the previous day

the wheels malfunctioned,

the power cut out.

the conductor couldn't call to stop

the oncoming route.

it took me a moment

to understand

why my eyes were misty

as i watched the screen glow.

then i remembered

the girl who went left.

she was the one,

i'm sure of it now

i'm sure we could have been great

if she'd stayed around.

she was the right person

but she chose the wrong day

to go left.

I never want to let you go, I’ll never let you go. You’re the right person, so who gives a damn about time? We can make it work, right? If I care and you care, then we’re unstoppable, unbreakable. That’s what I tell myself at night. I must believe that hope isn’t futile. I don’t know any other way to live, any other way to go on.

I dated someone once, when I was young, and we were happy together, or at least, I thought I was at the time. Looking back, I recognize the sorrow that haunted my smiles and the emptiness I felt in my old partner’s embrace. I enjoyed the feeling of being wanted, of being loved. But we felt we were happy, we felt we were right together. We only parted ways due to circumstance, and I hated that, hated the knowledge that there was no one to blame, no one at fault, nothing except for time and place.

In retrospect, they weren’t the right person, not for me. If we truly cared, I think we could’ve made it work, I really do. Long distance relationships hurt, but if they were the “right person” then the pain of living without them would’ve been far worse, far harder to bear.

Now I’m with you, now I think the search is over. Our goals and hopes and dreams align, our interests match, our opinions overlap, our desires are compatible, we get along so nicely. I think we can make it together, I think we care enough to fight the situational discomfort of our current lives. If there’s anyone I’ll fight for, it’s you.

I believe in right person, wrong time, but I don’t think that’s the case for us. Perhaps that’s arrogant naivety, perhaps that’s ignorant pretension. Call me an idiotic optimist, but I’ll always choose hope over fatalistic despair when it comes to our relationship. Besides, the time is only moderately unfortunate, not “wrong” per se. We're adults, albeit younger ones. We're independent, albeit with clinging familial ties. We're pursuing similar careers, albeit in very different fields.

But really, I do have to wonder, is there ever a right time to meet someone? Maybe this is a test for every relationship, so let's study together, shall we? I'll prepare the flashcards if you print the study guide. Or we can just do our best and see what happens.

We share a love for plans, so here’s mine: you’ll be the theoretical physicist and I’ll be the cognitive neuroscientist, we’ll raise a cat together, maybe some kids, and we’ll make it work. Tell me about the universe, show me the stars in the sky—I see those same stars in your eyes when you talk so passionately, so excitedly.

Let’s sing to the songs we love and roll down the window. Let’s drive until we’re sore from physical inaction, let’s hug until we meld together into an unbreakable amalgam, let’s make tacos in the kitchen, let’s watch bad movies, let’s enjoy being together.

You’re the right person, I hope, I know. I know.

We all eventually become the right person at the wrong time... There are plenty of things I wish I could have done differently in the past. Sure, if I could go back, I would make better choices (knowing what I know now), but that version of myself from the past would probably always make the same mistakes. Whether it’s knowing the right thing to do, having the perfect words for the moment, or seizing an opportunity that rarely comes along in a lifetime. Sometimes we get it right, and we truly are the right person at the right time. Occasionally, we really mess things up and we feel the sting of being the wrong person at the wrong time. What I find curious is this: Given what I have said, would you rather be the right person at the wrong time, or the wrong person at the right time? Both seem tragic.

haunting you throughout our freshly severed two year relationship. My mind wonders in a world where you never said what you did, where you weren't standing so close to the edge of life. I hate your parents for treating you like less than human, I hate the teacher who took advantage of you, I hate how cruel the world can be and how much you hurt me.

I loved how we were together before all the acid rain. Now the S word sends a sharp pain through my chest. Now at a hint of emotion I raise suffocating concrete walls in my head. I hate that I feared blood on my hands, I hate that I stopped loving you. I would amputate my arm to keep you from suffering, haven't you suffered enough. I would live unhappy to give you what you want, but that isn't what you want. You want me to be happy. I want you to be happy too. I'm sorry.

Now the thought plagues me, right girl wrong time. It didn't end well, not in this world. Because all of those things did happen.

finding puzzle pieces is hard as heck. in a 10000 piece puzzle, the options are endless, and it takes trying different pieces to finally finding the right one. and when you do its such a sigh of relief, knowing your safe and secure in making the right choice, knowing that your parts, you personality and your goals fit the puzzle piece to somebody elses holes. but sometimes, we get the right puzzle pieces in the wrong place of the bigger picture. and sometimes that means seperating those pieces, only for a time, to once again let them fit back together once the rest of the puzzle is complete. and then the bigger picture will be all the more brighter.

I should've met you years ago. We were in the same class, or would've been if I hadn't dropped it. There were only 25 people there and we were put in groups all the time. We could've commiserated over the fact that the prereqs changed without changing the content of the class. I know neither of us were really prepared for that.

I got a 40 on the first exam, but it was physics, so that was apparently normal. Either way, that freaked me out and I just decided to focus on other things. So I didn't meet you then.

A few years later, we were in the same computer science course. I took it on a whim, but at least that one was one of those 250-student monstrosities. I understood not meeting you then.

More confusing was the first time I actually met you. We were both officers in a very small academic "fraternity". You got so drunk right before the meeting that I had a hard time not laughing when you tried to act like you weren't. We barely spoke for the rest of year.

It wasn't until we were tutoring German together the year after that I got to know you. You weren't at all like what I thought. Maybe because you were so quiet before, but I never knew how deep still waters ran. It didn't hurt that I was usually buzzed and totally willing to tell you all my deep, dark secrets.

I had a crush- a huge one that took up all my time and energy. I thought it was the same for you. Sometimes when we talked I felt like you were the only other person in the universe and definitely the only one who would understand.

I wasn't subtle. I didn't think so anyway, but you let it go on too long. I was too far gone when you finally told me you had a girlfriend.

I couldn't believe after all those late nights, and so much beer, you'd never mentioned it before. I hated myself for thinking that I ever had a chance with you. I hated you for never admitting that I didn't. I found out later that you met her while studying abroad two years before. That was two years after we should've met.

I still think about you. You were really the only person who's ever made me feel anything at all. I message you occassionally: happy birthdays or big events. I'm waiting on the wedding invitation. I guess we just had bad timing.