They say you recognize your soulmate

at first meeting

a knowing deep inside that is stronger

than simply feeling

But what if soulmates are determined not just

by who, but when

a duet of parallel traveling souls turning

and leaning in

What if that knowing comes in time given

and hours spent

a realization that companionship is not a cost,

but an investment

What if it’s gently learning to shed all facades of fear

and uncertainty

tentatively casting out silken cords of fragile

deepening affinity

A soft moment of first touch, an unspoken

requesting

of fingers curling into spaces erstwhile unknown

and unseen

Life unfolds with fresh enrichment, a friendshp

morphs into more

a new light glows on the timeline that passed by

prosaically before

What if, in a moment of keen vision, you look back

and see

your soulmate has been with you

all along

I’ve known about your existence since forever.

You never remembered that I existed.

But it was fine because I didn’t care. We never talked, and we didn’t need to.

Until we talked.

It clicked, you know? So many similarities fit into us, and conversation flowing smoother than water through your fingers.

The heartburn started. And then the tiredness but the boost of energy, the lack of my usual negativity.

I let you in, whereas it has taken others years to get to where you are in my heart now.

The fact that you’ve taught me what love is again and asked me to believe in soulmates.

And you got hurt today. I was so worried, much more concerned than I should have been.

I realized.

It took me five days to fall in love with you. And you would never fall as fast as I did, not that you would ever choose me.

And now I’m left grasping at straws, little pieces of conversation, a desperate attempt to keep you and know more about you but.

Your heart belongs to another, while you unknowingly took my heart with you. I think I was always meant to be yours, but you weren’t destined to be mine.

I lost my soulmate before we even had a chance to begin.

I think society is exaggerating the role of mates. We are taught that everyone should have one and, if the person isn’t already with you, it is simply because the moment is not fit and, eventually, you are finding each over and remain together. Of course, there is some truth in that, but not totally. The reality is, in my mind, that no one is made for you, as one might naively presume judging by the constructs generated by the media or by various forms of art or knowledge, and that there is a spectrum of persons among whom you might find the one with whom you can get along, but that does not mean that the person is the one and only, the other options being excluded.

This way of perceiving things not only limits the possibilities but also creates a great deal of discomfort and anxiety, for one is always stressed, waiting for their love, who usually is coming late. Also, when the two finally begin a relationship, the fear of not losing each over can reach paranoic proportions, which is but detrimental for the mental health of both.

That’s not to say that there are certain people with whom the connection, both physical and spiritual, is stronger than others, which does not imply, however, that it is a unique occurrence and that there is necessarily someone to whom you are destined or vice versa. The belief that there is a soul mate is an illusion constructed by society to, mostly, keep you hooked with someone, even if the circumstances are unpleasant in the long run.

On the other hand, friendship exists, and I would suggest cherishing it, although not in an idealistic fashion.

Question: How am I supposed to find love in this chaos?

Answer: You don't.

—

Hurting—

from all of the parts of me being forced together and pulled apart

"use your heart and your brain"

"wear a mask, numb the pain"

"stay connected, stay away"

it's always a guessing game.

Healing—

from all of the trauma of my past

so that I can be passionate without feeling shame

(I'm learning how to live: clinking glasses filled with stardust, breathing Aurora borealis while the colours fill in the holes of my personality, feeling the fire of the sun and the weight of the water as I let it all dance around me (I am invincible not invisible))

Loving—

letting life kiss my lips while I slip into blissful future reminisce.

(finding gaps in the timeline of what is supposed to be and chasing white rabbits down holes of mystery, only to come out into the same reality but as a completely different person. Holding onto hands that lead me into the night and dancing along the stars to land on the biggest one of all and become reborn).

—

Question: So should I stop looking for love?

Answer: Love and life are fateful lovers.

Our book

hasn’t even

been opened

yet.

It’s waiting for us.

We have to read

many more

before

we can finally

enjoy our story.

We feel

each other’s

energy,

in the longing

for more.

An ache

of the soul

in the dark,

silent nights.

Sometimes

we think

we’ve met.

Maybe

we have.

We must do the work first.

Live.

Learn.

Grow.

Become.

One day

we will

both

be ready

to read

our story,

together.

We are not yet complete...

i thought you were my soulmate.

we were tied together with red string

bondage that could not be broken

with time or distance.

but the bond turned black,

red string turned black as it fed on my despair

red string turned black as it drank my energy,

sucking me dry.

i thought you were my soulmate

but that was just a fever dream

a dream as red hot as the string that tied us together.

i thought you were a project,

that was my first mistake.

i thought it was up to me to fix you.

i thought i was the only one who could.

but you poisoned me,

turned the red string black

and cold as ash.

our fire burned out

and you left it on me

to restart it.

tell me why did i even try

to relight a fire

when you kept dousing the tinder in water?

you wanted me to fail,

delighted in my struggle.

yet still, i kept trying to heal us.

but it's a lot easier to color a red string black

than it is to color a black string red.

i tried to make the best of pain

i tried to give you my best.

but just like the color black,

you absorbed all my light

and consumed it with your darkness.

I knew we were soulmates.

I thought we were lovers.

But the two do not always go in hand.

One day she said no more.

One day she decided she didn't love me that way.

My heart broke.

I always knew she would leave me in the end.

But it still hurt.

We were still friends.

You can't rid a soulmate that easily.

But it was not the same.

We couldn't forget the memories.

But we had to pretend we did.

Time makes a difference though.

And now I understand.

We were too alike.

She was one for adventure.

And I fall in love with mystery.

We will always be soulmates.

But now I know we were never really lovers.

It's a hard thing to remember and the one part that came as a surprise to me, you can feel and smell it till your seat digs itself into a fractured and melted remnant of airplane oblivion. Yes, there's the recognizable pieces of the arm rest buttons and the intact oxygen masks that somehow didn't get put on and a couple of uncracked iPhones (some poor wife gets to find out her cratered husband was fucking a 24 yr old) but yes, it all ends up like a MOAB went off in the side streets of Valley stream. Everything is burning, oh, except for that beautiful baby girl lying in the middle of it. Her name was Kristen Michelle. She was sleeping in that illegal basement apartment. Her crib was right by the wall. The rescue teams were sobbing like crazy when they pulled her out without a scratch on her. She had a red string in her grasp with the loop on her little finger, which got me thinking back to our beginning.

Nothing is really impossible to me. My imagination gets hold and the unlikely suddenly becomes real. I'm not talking nightmares and brief moments of clarity. I'm talking about engine #2's mount bolt on the left wing. Sometimes they are lazy when the torque wrench is on the bench, sometimes the last mechanic dropped it and now it's reading 40 ftlbs shy, and sometimes the bolt's been completely sheared for 20 flights and locktight is holding the head in. Sure as air currents and vibrations can shit metal, one by one the bolts shear, stuck on there looking pretty, aircraft shiny but holy fucked fatigued. So when I'm looking out the window and I see that 450mph shimmy, I'm not surprised at all. Some of the frequent flyers up front, you know, the dicks that have a stripper and housewife for every 100,000 miles flown in each state, they know the jig is up too. I saw him praying. Everybody else thinks it's turbulence. I kinda feel sorry for them.

As Tesla taught us, harmonic vibration can shake your balls off if you wack em just right. Well, not far after take off, maybe 5,000 feet, that engine's nuts started coming and rocking. I think the pilot was finally starting to listen to my mind. This ain't no happy ending baby. The cabin started to sound like a baptist funeral pre-crying over the engine that was about to make a name for itself crashing into the clock tower at Central. Damn, I really needed that cup of green tea. The flight attendants clock out early with these things. Here I was, calm as that little boy over there who was cutting up so bad at the gate and taxiing, his mom wrapped a scarf around the belt buckle. His name was Michael. She wasn't so calm. The two of us locked eyes when the engine moon shot and cow pulled the wing for some hot shlitz. I raised my eyebrows and smiled at him. He reached to his mother and hugged her while smiling back at me. That's when I remembered the red string. I'd been carrying it around for forty six years. The love of my life gave it to me, or more like she found it for us. The rest of the flight was a perfect physics lesson. You know, terminal velocity, God's name screaming, 1/2mv^2, milk turning gurgling, flash point of jet fuel, 11B heart attacking out early, and me and Michael sitting pretty.

I guess it's time then. That string in my pocket wasn't literal. It just meant something for the living which I hadn't planned on being that day. I tied it in a tiny loop and bow and gave it to Michael. He smiled again and said I owe you.

Michael died too.

We laugh about it all the time. I thought thinking and imagining the improbable was my shit. That kid knows he is lifetimes ahead of me.

A mirror standing darkly

reflecting what I see

the best and worst of you

the dark and light in me

An anchor in the chaos

weighing me down with love

holding me against the current

while my bouyancy floats above

A foil, a fence, a partner

pushing against my hold

pulling me across the dance floor

urging me to be more bold

A magnet -polar opposite

yet intimately connected

two sides of one coin flipped

two roads turned intersected

A duelist who embraces

A cad who always cares

A fellow who makes faces

and doesn't care who stares

My friend you may be a soulmate

Should we ever chance to meet

For I fear the reason no one finds them

is they forget to stop and simply greet

Dear Benjamin,

I know this letter may seem a little out of the blue. We haven’t really spoken to one another in many years, but it’s time that I told you the truth about me. About us. You see, it may have been at least 10 years since our last conversation, it really seems it was only yesterday for me. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t imagined your handsome face, your kind eyes, and the beautiful way you walk and talk. 

What I’m saying is that I’m in love with you.

I loved you from the very moment we met outside of Mr Hamphire’s classroom at Ridgetown Middle School. I was the new girl, feeling awkward and shy around all the new people, and you were the nicest boy I had ever met. Connie Jenkins had knocked my books out of my hands on purpose, and you stopped in the hall to help me pick them up. You saw my journal where I wrote my poems and short stories. I was so embarrassed to see your eyes skim a line of writing, and you asked me, “Are you a writer?” I nodded, feeling my face blush, and I remember it so clear. Your hand brushed mine as you handed back my journal, “I’d like to read your stuff someday. You seem like you’re really good at it.” I felt my heart leap out of my chest, and I could have flown on angel wings to my next class. 

I wrote you a poem that day. I wrote out my most epic piece of poetry using all of my talent, my passion, and every ounce of critical writing to make it perfect. I went home to my computer and found a picture of you on your profile. For the longest time, I had a picture of you and a copy of my poem in a little frame that I kept beneath my pillow. I have no idea what my dad would have done if he had known I had a crush on one of the boys in my class, so you were my special secret for many years. I wrote you many stories and poems over the years that I kept in a shoebox in my closet. Maybe one day, I can read them to you. 

Do you remember Connie Jenkins? She was the biggest bully and was always wanting attention from all the boys. But you were always so pure and faithful. She’d shove girls in the hallway, prance around with her skirt too high up, and like to show that she was one of the first girls in our grade to be visited by the boob fairy over the summer. But you never noticed, Benjamin. My dear, sweet Benjamin, you saw right through her games and ignored her. Do you remember what happened to her? She ended up transferring to another school in our junior year of high school. Don’t worry, my sweet Benjamin, I was always protecting you from her games. I’m sure she’ll never darken your doorway, again.

Senior year, I almost had you all to myself. I saw you glance my way a lot in homeroom, so I know you were wondering if I noticed you. I noticed you every day with your adorable blue school blazer, pleated slacks, and shiny brown shoes. Your dark hair always seemed to have a slight cowlick in the back where it would be hard to see in the mirror. I imagined what it would be like to smooth out your hair for you as you left my home in the morning. I’m blushing as I write this. I don’t want you to think I’m a prude or anything, Benjamin. I was a teenage girl after all, and you were the handsomest boy in school. My favorite part of the day would be when I would secret away one of your pencils from your backpack. Remember how you used to chew on your pencils in math? It felt so good to put my mouth over your bite marks, and I could almost taste what your mouth tasted like.

My heart was breaking towards the end of senior year, knowing that you would be leaving my life forever. But then you gave me your message. Remember Benjamin? Remember as you passed my table at lunch. You accidently bumped my table and apologized profusely. You were always so kind and considerate. Then you told me, “Hey, have you chosen which college you’re going to? I think I’m going to Kansas State.” Well, I remember you had said it to your friend, what’s his face, it doesn’t matter, but you were looking at ME when you said it. You were asking me, begging me even, to see if I was going to the same college as you.

So, when I got home, I filled out a full application for Kansas State university, and I may have fibbed just a little bit to make myself sound better, but it was all to make sure I wouldn’t disappoint you! On your first day of college, I wanted to surprise you and let you know that you wouldn’t have to be alone. Dad was furious when he found out that I wanted to go to college. He has this thing about us girls being “too educated” or whatever. He has this whole group of people at Temple he talks to about how men should be the master of every household and be dominant of every woman in his home. I think you would be an amazing husband and father, Benjamin. I know if my father would have met you, he would have loved you almost as much as I do.

I hope you will be able to forgive me, Benjamin, because I must confess something. I was at a loss for what classes to sign up for and had to do quite a bit of detective work to find out your classes. I wanted it all to be a surprise! Please don’t think I’m creepy or following you! i would hate to think of you imagining me with any other intention than my unconditional love for you. I found your acceptance letter in the glove compartment of your car, and I found copies of your class schedule in the trash of your parents home. I also found that you accidently threw out one of your baseball tshirts that you wear to bed. I kept it very safe for you and will return it to you when I see you next.

I know you saw me on our first day at Kansas! You turned and recognized me as you were talking to one of your professors. I must have looked so silly, blushing and waving shyly, but you were very kind and waved back. I tried so many times to talk to you, but we always seemed to be interrupted by one of your friends, a professor, or a crowd of freshman tours. But i needn’t have worried, my sweet Benjamin, because you found me! I remember it so well, “Hey, we went to high school together.” I could barely speak above a whisper. You just came out in front of everyone and admitted we had a history. I was so embarrassed but so flattered that you wanted to show me off to everyone around us, “Yes.” You smiled your brilliant smile, “Well, glad to see a familiar face. What’s your major?” I mumbled, “Math.” I love when you smile at me like that, “Hey, me too. Well, see you around.”

Once again, I found myself falling for you all over again. The way you walked away from me so confident made your allure all the stronger. You walked the way dad walks after he’d won an argument with my mom. Like you were on top of the world without a care in the world. Yeah, mom may have had a bloody nose or concussion, but that’s hardly the point. You don’t talk back to a man who has everything going for him. And, Benjamin, you had me wrapped around your finger. If you want to kiss me or slap me, I would consider it all a declaration of the amazing man you are.

Oh! I only just remembered an embarrassing story about my roommate. You see, I brought my shoebox of poems and stories for you with me to college, hoping I would have a chance to show you. My roommate, the cow, thought she would “borrow” a pair of shoes from me and happened to open the wrong box. She read them! She got her dirty fingers all over my precious writings for you, and she started accusing me of some terrible things! She threatened to call the school board on me, but I was able to calm her down enough for her to see reason. It took some strangling, but sealed lips don’t tell false stories, my dearest Benjamin. I’m just glad she didn’t find the story about the one time I snuck into the boy’s locker room. Don’t worry! I didn’t peek! I’m not a weirdo, Benjamin. I just wanted to borrow some of your things to help me remember you over summer vacation. Your deodorant is still one of my favorite things to spread on my skin everyday.

Oh, Benjamin, I wish this could be the part of my letter where I say that you finally realized who i was and came to me with your heart full of love for me, too, but I’m afraid this is the worst part of the story. I was so mad at you for a long time. Not anymore! I’ve forgiven you many times for what you put me through, and I understand it wasn’t your fault. We were at the Kappa Delta Phi mixer together, and some basic slut had her hands all over you! Touching your hair and chest like she was a dog in heat! I was furious! How could you stand to be in such close proximity to that horrid, disgusting, immoral, attention-hogging, sorry excuse for a female. You both spent so much time together, that I was afraid you had forgotten about me. But I still caught you glancing my way. Did you know I was watching you? Did you know that my heart was tearing to pieces? Was this somehow to make me jealous? Did you know that some of my poems were less than kind about how you were treating me? You didn’t need to do any of it! My love for you never needs to be tested! I love you with the unconditional love of a woman clinging to an anchor in a storm! 

And then you married her. I sat in the back of the church yard, sobbing into my handkerchief. You were so handsome and that whore was wearing white, ironically. I saw her that night when you both were in the hot tub. She did NOT learn those things by hearing about them. But I’ve forgiven you, my sweet Benjamin. The whore of Babylon has swallowed many in the grave of her misdeeds. And that’s when I discovered that you never gave up on me. Oh! How my soul was rejuvenated and my headaches and heartache lifted like the sunrise after a night of war. I passed by you in the store. I made it look as if I was purposefully ignoring you, but I saw you glance at me. You caught my eye, and you stared deep into my soul. I heard your thoughts, my beloved Benjamin. You spoke with your eyes!

Help me.

I’m trapped.

Save me.

I’ve always loved you.

Then you turned and sped away. Your eyes said too much in the silence. Don’t be embarrassed! I understood everything after that! That whore had trapped you in a relationship. She must have told you she was pregnant or that she would kill herself if you left her. My sweet, naive Benjamin, women will go to any lengths to make you stay with them. And you in all of your kind-hearted, compassion fell into her trap. I’ve been working so hard to release you. To free you from her devil clawed grasp! And now we can finally be together.

The witch is dead, Benjamin! I ran her through like I did Connie Jenkins with my scissors. I strangled both her demon-spawn like I did my nosy roommate. Please don’t cry, Benjamin. I will give you all the children you want. Plus, I don’t think those tiny brats were yours anyway. Like I said, sluts will do anything to keep you around. My only regret is that my father won’t get to meet you. You see, after he killed my mother after she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, he needed another woman to dominate to assert his role as a man. Well, I accidently dropped one of the poems I had written for you, and he figured it out pretty quickly. He said he would murder you for taking my purity, but protected you. Just like a real man, it took nearly FOUR gunshots to kill him. I wonder how many gunshots you could take, my rugged manly-man. Oh, don’t be silly. You have nothing to fear from me. I love you, remember!? We’ll be together forever!

What you don’t know is that this is all a surprise for you. No doubt you’re standing outside your doorway, reading all of this note, wondering when we can finally confess our love for one another. I’m here, my beloved Benjamin! Just outside your door. Ready to finally make our life complete and have the romantic ending you always dreamed of. 

All my love,

Your Soul