Dylan and I were sitting under a white marquee, plates balanced on our laps, savoring the warmth of apple pie and the smell of barbecue. It was the wedding of our high school best friend — a day that brought old friends back together, wrapped in nostalgia.
It was at that moment, I noticed Dylan wasn’t tasting his food. He was quiet, distracted. Then, he sighed and said, “Man, I am so confused. I want to marry Maya.”
His eyes drifted toward the bride and groom dancing in the distance. “I love her. I really do. She makes me feel like I’m home. Sometimes I wonder — how do I know, like really know, that she’s the one? What if I mess this up? What if I’m not ready?”
“Dylan,” I began, “I think we grow up believing that love is supposed to feel like a movie — big signs, dramatic certainty, perfect timing. Real love is quieter. It’s less about knowing without a doubt and more about choosing — choosing to stand beside someone even when life throws curveballs. It’s waking up every day and deciding: I want to try, with you.”
He looked at me, still listening.
“The fear doesn’t mean you’re not ready. Maybe it means you care deeply enough to want to get it right. That’s a good place to start. The truth is, Maya doesn’t need you to be perfect. She needs you to be honest, to be present, to keep showing up — not just on the big days like this but on the hard Tuesdays and the quiet Sundays when love feels like doing the dishes or just holding space for each other’s silence.”
Dylan was quiet for a moment, then he smiled, “That helps,” he said. “I’ve been thinking too much about having all the answers. Maybe it’s more about caring and figuring things out together.”
“Exactly,” I said. “You don’t find the one. You become the one for each other, over time.”
We sat back as music swelled from the dance floor and the evening light painted everything gold.
To our readers — if you’re holding love in your hands and wondering if it’s right, ask yourself not just how they make you feel but how willing you are to grow, stretch and stay when it’s hard. Love isn’t a test to pass — it’s a journey you choose to take with someone, again and again. When you can look at them and think, “Let’s figure this out, together,” you’re already halfway there.
