You were told so many stories as you were growing up about how things are supposed to be. How that first kiss was supposed to go. The first touch. The first time that a man was supposed to enter you. It was a gift to give away, but only to someone special. Someone who would love and appreciate you for it.

That’s the way things were supposed to be.

You watched the movies, the romantic ones, the rom-coms, the sweet and tender stories of first love, of meeting the one, and how magical that moment should be. You read romance novels, the good ones, not where some sleazy pirate forced himself on a maiden, but ones of love, pure and innocent. Idyllic lives that were destined to be with one another.

That’s the way things were supposed to be.

You spent your entire life saving yourself. You thought about him, your future husband, and what he would be like. What interests would you share, and what job would he have? You had opportunities, of course, every girl growing up did, but you passed them by. You were waiting for him. You would know him when you saw him. When you saw his smile, it would be love at first sight and be a story for the ages. You just knew you would one day have your grandkids at your feet, listening to you tell the story for the hundredth time.

That’s the way things were supposed to be.

You would get weak a few times. Guys that might have been the one, but there was never that special moment, the wacky incident, the grand romantic gesture. Just sweet men that cared for you, but that wasn’t enough. You needed it to be special, a moment you would never, ever forget. Not drunk after prom or while making out in a basement. No, when it was time, you’d know without a doubt. You would remember that moment for the rest of your life. It would happen because it was meant to happen and nothing you could have said or done would have stopped it. A magical night with the one you had been waiting for your entire life.

That’s the way things were supposed to be.

And then, you met him. Finally met the one, in a bar of all places. Charming and witty, he swept you right off your feet. Your eyes locked across the room and he told you that he had to come over. You were stunning, the most beautiful woman in the room. Then he tripped and laughed and it was so funny and magical. Your only thought throughout the night was giving him your number and telling your future grandchildren about the dancing you did and how he made you laugh. Even when his hand touched your butt, it felt ok, and you chose not to brush it away. He was the one.

That’s the way things were supposed to be.