The Broken Road

What is it about springtime that influences people to make such bad decisions about getting married? Is it an allergic reaction to the pollen? Is it some sort of biological response to the increasing daylight hours? Just an inexplicable seasonal instinct programmed into our genetic code? I think the recent inundation of engagements & wedding invitations has put me uncommonly on edge about my own singleness.

Driving home from work recently, I heard the Rascal Flats song "Broken Road," a country ballad in which the speaker concludes (in hindsight) that all of his previously unsuccessful relationships were building blocks leading him to the "right" woman; the song is addressed to his current ladylove. The general idea of the song is encapulated in a few of the lyrics from the chorus:

"Every long lost dream lead me to where you are;
Others who broke my heart,
They were like northern stars.
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms;
This much I know is true:
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you."

While driving, I began to reflect upon these words. As a fan of Rascal Flatts, I had always appreciated what were clearly written as inspirational words for those of us still in search of Ms. (or Mr.) Right. Their admonishment is simple: "even if your boy/girl friend just left you, it's good, because that has freed to you find the person whom you are truly meant to love." As I contemplated the lyrics more fully, I wondered,

Where are my 'northern stars'?!? How can I be pointed into the 'loving arms' of my future wife??? I don't even HAVE a 'broken road'...there's no trail of failed relationships guiding me on the path to martial bliss! No freeway, no road, no boulevard or avenue, not even a path or trail: I'm just stranded in the middle of a loveless, roadless, uncharted prairie.

I can't say for certain, but I do have a hazy recollection of--more than simply wondering aloud--shouting, perhaps even screaming, these words to some figmental passenger. But to my dismay, as is so often the case, my imagined companion replied with only silence, and my efforts to extract counsel or solicitude from thin air were met with regrettable disappointment.