I believe in soulmates. I have since I was a little girl.
I’m a daydreamer by nature. I tend to slip off into my own thoughts and stories and forget that the world is spinning on outside of my head. When I was younger I would daydream for hours, losing whole afternoons to the narratives inside my head. I just figured at some point I would grow out of it. I never did.
I have lived entire lives inside my daydreams. I have been a hundred different people. Maybe it was because I grew up underneath the limitless Arizona sky, or maybe it was just because my parents always indulged me, handing me my first guitar at the tender age of fourteen so that I could weave my daydreams into melodies. I’m not sure what it was that made me such a hopeless romantic. A girl who sees a story in everything.
I believe in soulmates, but maybe not in the way you do.
I believe that there are certain people that come into our lives and change everything. Those people are the ones that the universe has destined us to meet, to learn from, to break, to love. I don’t know if I believe in true love. Am I fascinated by it? Well, yes of course. Aren’t we all, in some way? It’s shoved down our throats from the time we are old enough to pay attention to a bedtime fairy tale.
I believe in soulmates, but not the kind that end up together, happily ever after. That’s far too easy. I believe in the people that come into our lives like a hurricane, reminding us why storms are given human names. I believe in the people that flood our lives, annihilating everything we thought we knew in the process. The kind of people that make you think you want to give up instead of treading the water that will just not stop rushing in under the door. Because in the end, they wash you clean. They scrub away the stains, leaving nothing but the smell of rain. I believe in that, because it’s what happened to me.
This is a love story.
It just isn’t mine.