Right person, wrong time.
That is the exact understanding, the precise phrase that describes the scenario of my past perfectly.
I believe that no introduction is needed into deriving the underlying meaning. Right person constitutes the person that I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with. Wrong time, well, that’s just an excuse to suggest that under the circumstances of time, or more accurately put, the variance in phases of life.
A year ago, I was fortunate enough to have met someone who has, in most ways in life, been walking parallel to mine. In the short yet brief intersection that we met, it felt as if the missing puzzles were rightfully found and assembled.
Through her, I was able to fully comprehend the identity of the IDEAL person. Often in life, an infinite number of factors would impact and reduce our requirements and expectations. Settling has become a norm in accepting differences, acknowledging the pros while outweighing the cons. But with her, I never felt the need to.
One day, confused and staggering in self-pity, I asked her.
“What is the reason that we are together?”
“For me, you’re the ideal person I wanted to be with.”
Honestly speaking, I had neither the looks of Brad Pitt, the brains of Einstein nor the capacity and maturity of an adult. But she never looked further than that, reasons would have just been unnecessary evidential justification of our relationship. The term ideal accurately showcased what we had.
Together, enjoying coffee.
Together, working separately while seated next to each other at a cafe.
Together, coloring her book.
Together, doing what we loved.
Intertwining, overlapping. That was how we functioned best being absolutely aware of each other’s presence. How short things lasted.
In the same month when my career was constantly closing doors I exited, great opportunities were lighting her path. As any logical, ambition driven person as herself would have done, she pursued this once-in-a-lifetime chance. Being great no longer sufficed. Personal growth and maturity will be the additional perks along her journey.
However, such events require a huge sacrifice. In time. Effort. And relationships. I happen to be on the wrong end. What was once considered the ideal person, has now turned into burden.
The promises made. The events we planned. The future we wanted. Those disappeared along with the malevolence of time being wrong. I still insist that she is still the ideal person for me. I insist that, despite knowing our parallel lives will continue to run its course, hers just right next to mine, but never intersecting again.
Maybe ideal, wasn’t as ideal as I thought.
The right person, at the wrong time. That’s the story of my life.
The wrong person at the right time.
Here is the vagueness and personal interpretation that I have. The
phrase is also accurate within the same time dilation as wrong person, right time.
In a linear timeline, Wrong Person at the Right Time explains the perfect conditions at a specific point of time that induced the coming together of two individuals. As Beauty turned into the Beast, as laughter turned into pain, it ended as the Right Person at the Wrong Time.
To have spent the days and months as one, the possibility of a cosmic range of factors coinciding was never null. As the right pieces fell into place, one by one, it was easier to identify her as the Right Person rather than believing the fact that maybe, just maybe, the timing was the only aspect that was right.
Looking back, was she ever The One?
Was I ever Ideal?
Or was it time?
I have no answers. My life has always been grey. But just for a moment, I would like to think…
The things we have done.
The pictures we took.
The love we shared.
We were Ideal for each other, at that Ideal time.