Yes, I know I met and married 'the one' - and I was 'the one' for him. I couldn't eat or sleep when I first met him because he was always on my mind.
We had a 'wobble' 7 years into our marriage when we were told DH could never father children (he was older than I was so we didn't qualify for NHS treatment in those days). He told me he would let me go without fuss if that is what I wanted to do. I admit that I did think about it. In the end, after a lot of soul-searching, I decided that I had married DH because of HIM and not the potential children I had hoped to have with him. I still prayed for a miracle to happen up until I was 42 years old, but it never did. And by then I had truly accepted that I had a wonderful life with DH even if we didn't have the 4 children we had always planned to have.
I loved being in his company, I ached when I had to work away from home, he made my heart race as he opened the front door to greet me when I pulled the car on the drive. We used our individual strengths to run the household; we discussed our dreams and made shared decisions.
Mind you, we could have some almighty rows! I think we rowed with the same passion that actually kept us together! (It's hard to explain that one)
Then, when I was 46 years old he was given 2 weeks to live (an aggressive cancer that had been missed in his health check-ups). So, he came home from hospital and I nursed him. He was immobile from the waist down but I would hoist him out of bed and into his wheelchair and 'orf we'd jolly well go'. We had all of our favourite meals 'for one last time'; we visited favourite places 'for one last time' and frequently told each other how much we loved each other in case it was for the 'one last time'.
We talked about how I should be happy in the future. I told him not to worry about me. But I promised I would try......
Here I am 12 years later, not even looking for anyone else. I did try (as I promised) but my heart - literally- wasn't in it. I have had bereavement counselling until it came out of my ears.... but I have to accept that when DH died, a part of me died too.
I have a 'contented' life with my dog. I take him everywhere and I do have great new experiences! He is great on the ferry when we cross to Belfast to see my friends. He was better on the Eurostar when we did a short visit to France 'just for the hell of it'. I have his holidays planned for next year already.... Cornwall (because I haven't been there) and IOM (because I want to go back).
'We' are currently planning a trip to Germany to see other friends - going via Hull to The Hook of Holland - well, I had better do it whilst he is still able and his rabies vaccinations are all up to date!
I have good friends - but even they can see that a part of me died when DH died in my arms in 2001.
So, there is my take on 'the one'. Yes, I met and married him! I was so privileged to have found that kind of love which encompasses mutual support, respect, encouragement, challenge, understanding, connection, compatibility, compromise - but it still overwhelmed me after 25 years when I realised every time I came home from work, or had a night out with him that I 'simply loved everything' about this guy.
The sadness now is because of the happiness then.