Weeks ago, a PGI reader sent me this letter about his experience on Dating Boulevard, in search of "X", the ever-elusive Ms. Right. At the end, he asked me how i found my "X" and here is my response to Skip's letter. Hope this helps, Skip!
'There are many ways to find X', the teacher said,'Keep trying.'
He would make me sit and strive to find this mysterious value. On some days, I'd make up a number; I'd make an educated guess and being the terribly assertive person I am, I would argue, that the true value of "X" was equal to my made-up answer.
'X=Dimeji', I'd chirp at the teacher and walk out of the class with that self-righteous look you so rightly described in your letter, Chip.
But in 7 months or less, X would have morphed into this grotesque sum known as "Ex". I'd come back into the class, a little burnt out but still willing to find this X. How dare it prove so elusive? Did it not know I was growing old?
Sometimes, I'd get a real value just like you, Skip! A real value! I would be so certain this was it. This was X! Then it would turn out not to be.
A fond memory was when I found X, for the umpteenth time and oh, how I loved X; how he made my heart skip and turned my mind to mush, how his lashes intrigued me in all its black, curly glory; then I found out that X was finding the square root of Y. Y was some hot girl with huge breasts who I believe lived in Oregun at the time.
The real X is ever so elusive, sometimes and other times right beneath our noses or the noses of others.
So how did I find X?
I'll be honest, I found X because I asked the teacher; no not that teacher, not the one I mentioned in the first part of this letter. No, not Life; Life is a crazy teacher, the one who tells me to keep trying; the one who knocked me on the head with the revelation of big-breasted Y; the one who mocked me every year I got older and still couldn't find X. Life loads you with so much drama and trauma that the chances of finding X in the first place is equal to zero! He almost provides no help at all, just innumerable chances to keep trying to find x, over and over.
The teacher I asked, was the head teacher, teacher of life itself, the creator of X.
I asked Him plainly. "Where is X?"
He stared back at me and knew I was serious this time. I was done with the guessing and the Enny Meeny Miny's- the Dimeji's and the ones who found square roots were now in the past. He looked me straight in the eyes and that day, I knew he heard.
In less than 6 months, X found me.
And after 7 years, the summation of X and I was solved and now, we are equal to 1.