You'll be standing in line. And you'll see a baby. Just there. Over his mom's shoulder. Quiet. Staring at you with blue eyes. You'll smile at it and think about how cute it is. And something deep inside you won't... immediately dismiss the sentiment of maybe - just maybe - one day becoming a mother.
And over the following weeks, months, and years, you'll start to feel the urge to want to know what it's like to truly have something of your own. Something created inside of you. To experience sharing life with something that can learn from you, 24/7. Grow up next to you. Depend on you. And, later, thank you for all you've done, as you do with your own mother. You'll start thinking about settling down, committing, and finally letting go of that glacier of cynicism that had once poisoned your emotional progress.
And whatever guy you're with at that time will reap all the benefits of your maturing, softening heart. Of your growth. Of your eventual retrospect. Of your wiser philosophies and calmer, pastoral outlook on life. He won't be any different from other guys. He won't possess anything you haven't seen before. And he certainly will not have been there through your darkest hours, your most difficult nights, or your most outrageous and unfair moments. He will not have earned you in any way other than simply coming into the general vicinity of your life after you're all fixed up, shiny and better.
He will enjoy the heat of your fire without ever having to build the pile, or spark the flame himself.
He'll just... be around at the right time.
One day, it'll happen.