This one is rough one to relive and document. Sometimes I need to just write things down even though I don’t want to in attempt to get through them. This is one of those times.
There is one guy out there that I regard as my soulmate. Years ago I met him and when I saw him I knew he was the one. There was no doubt about it in my mind. It was like all those classic love stories you hear when couples are in their 80’s and they are describing how they met their soulmate. It was instant connection for both of us, and we knew it. In our own world of meeting eachother, there was no one else that existed and time stopped while we were talking. I never felt this way before and I never have felt this way again.
Unlike those beautiful love stories of 80-year-old couples, however, the timing was off for us. Something didn’t quite work because of our timing. I was just getting out of a relationship, he was ready to commit. Our paths were crossing at different times. We were soulmates that missed a turn somewhere along the road before we met.
Our paths parted one day but his ghost has followed me ever since. Every once in awhile our paths came together again in a small twist or turn, but they soon drifted apart, his ghost staying with me each time.
One day I felt his ghost tugging on me and I decided to reach out after not speaking to him for a long time. We got together and caught up and I was in love all over again. This time, I was ready for him. I was excited because I was showing him I was ready, but then he did something unexpected- he pulled away. After hanging out with me for awhile, he finally shattered my dream: he was seeing someone.
I loved him too much to complain or be upset. I was happy for him and I let him be so I didn’t interfere. I knew we would meet again someday.
I kept waiting. Painfully waiting the more ready I became. With every date and sexual encounter I realized how much more I loved him. The waiting was now excruciating. Yet still I did not reach out because I wanted him to be happy. And I knew he could only be happy with her without me in the picture.
Dating for me got to an all time low. And of course at rock bottom was when I had the encounter. I wondered when we would come in contact again. I fantasized that one day I would run into him again and he would tell me he was now single, and I would be ready for him. Or even if he was about to get married, I would run into him and he would look at me, remember that we were soulmates, and reconsider his entire decision. It was bound to happen one of those ways, because after all, we were soulmates.
Well I got an encounter that day I was at rock bottom. An encounter unlike any scenario I played out. I ran into his best friend at a bar and we casually said hello as we have done in the past. Usually, however, he will avoid me and walk away. This time, he marched right up to me and began a conversation that lasted the rest of the entire night.
Within that conversation, he announced that my soulmate was engaged. I had no plan of action, I could do nothing in this horrible scenario except for order another drink. And so it went on like this the rest of the night, me getting smashed while his best friend followed me around the rest of the night and slyly groped me the drunker I got. I spilled my secrets to his best friend that night, something I still cringe about when I think back on that night. He walked away with my dignity and my soulmate was now engaged. My rock bottom dug its way below the rock into hell.
So after everything, there is no moral to this story, no funny, sad, or inspiring ending. It just is what it is. Did I find closure in this? No. Did it help me in any way at all. Nope. That’s just the way some soulmate stories are. Sometimes you live until you’re 102 and sometimes you die at 22. Life isn’t fair and neither is the story of soulmates. The fucking end.