A word, if I may, about timing.
To paraphrase, timing’s a bitch. Some people say neither time nor space get in the way of true love. I disagree. Strongly.
A friend once summarised love as meeting the right person at the right time in the right place, and I totally believe that, clinical and un-love-like as it is.
I believe you can meet the right person but at completely the wrong time. Hello, rebound relationships.
Similarly, I have seen incidents when the wrong person has appeared at the right time to catastrophic results.
I’ve been having a lot of conversations about timing lately, partly because I’m beginning to think The Surfing Yogi is a case of wrong person, right time.
He is a lovely man, make no mistake. But there is a lot about him I suspect I’m overlooking because the time is now right for me to be in a relationship.
And it’s dredging up memories of a man I (somewhat) jokingly describe as The Love of My Life, who lives on the other side of the world.
Our timing has always, always been way off.
When we first met, The Love of My Life led me to believe I was the single most annoying person in the world to him. Turns out it wasn’t quite like that. A few years later, The Love of My Life finally asked me out.
It transpired over the summer, however, that I wasn’t ready for The Love of My Life. I’d give him an inch and then run a mile. He called me on it eventually and told me he didn’t want to speak to me ever again. Fair call.
We got back on speaking terms but then he moved away and I met someone. And then after he moved back and I broke up with that someone, I moved away.
I saw The Love of My Life a couple of years later. As I gazed at him across the table, I couldn’t believe I missed my chance. Epiphanies come at interesting times and this one hit me square across the face over cheap Indian. I realised he was everything I’d been looking for.
But the timing, again, was out. We had a conversation about it over email a couple of months later. We both felt the same way. But it was too late for us.
I still think of him. I think of him when I’ve had bad dates or boyfriends who don’t measure up. I think of him on Sundays. And sometimes I daydream about what might have been. Which is, of course, deeply unhelpful because there’s nothing I can do about it.
But that’s the thing about timing, isn’t it? It’s deeply unhelpful. It’s horribly unfair. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
You just have to hope that, one day, the person, the time and the place will align and the love of your life becomes the person standing in front of you.
Photo credit: nicksarebi