Choices

It's the end of "The Bachelor" and I am glued to the TV. It's my mental popcorn. You know... light and fluffy with little nutritional value.

This actually goes back to the conversation I had with my dear husband last night. Why do we choose who we choose? (And why do nice guys seem to finish last?) It's a powerful thing... choice. We all want to be chosen. (This conversation began with "Grey's Anatomy" which I LOVE.) You want to say "Poor George" but not really. George deserves a woman who can see him for who he is and love him. He's the nice guy. He's everything a woman wants, but not necessarily what we chase. In review of my life and the people I dated, my husband is a bit of an odd choice at the end of the day. An odd choice, because he didn't fit the mold of the other men. He was different, pleasantly refreshingly different. Which is why I chose him. He chose me first, took the risk like George. I had the clarity to choose him back.

Why do people choose each other? Really I think it's a complete mystery. We can think of reasons why we do, and reasons why we don't. But... at the end of the day, the choice is made.