Not everyone has a soulmate, in fact most don't when they're born. People get their marks as they age and some people remain unmarked until the day they die. The lucky ones find their matches young while the unlucky ones like me, get stuck with obvious marks but no damn clue who their soulmate is. I was 'blessed' as most would call it with a nice obvious mark, though this led to people expecting me to know who the fuck was on the other end of this. After all the bigger the mark the more the person had in common with you.
Now I'm not complaining when I find the one we'll have a shit ton to talk about, including when did you get your mark if I've had mine since I was born? Was it scary when it started to show up since it's so damn big? How fucking shit is our luck that our soul mark looks like a fucking toddler drew it! I can't help but laugh as I recall the mispelled "I heart you" it seriously looks like a kid did it seeing as the r in heart is goddamn replaced with a p. "I heapt you." Right on your chest for the rest of your life, though usually they aren't the same for both people they just have the same basic design.
I was just lucky to get a fucking dislexic person, though I have nothing against learning disabilities when they're not tattooed on me from birth damn it. At least spell check wasn't made until a few years after I was a teen or I would have gotten so much more shit for it. Now back to the story, since I was little I knew my future person as my family would call them would be dyslexic or goddamn five years old, they could be having a bad spelling day but if it weren't important to finding them I'd have 'I heart you.' On my fucking right tit. Now not only do I not have the 'right parts' (I have both I'm intersex) so my friend who's been with me forever is probably either gay or bisexual and doesn't want kids or they're in for a big surprise. I've got breasts and a vagina but I was born with testes and had my parents been crazy they would have let the nice doctors mutilate me. Though why they would want to cut out my balls I don't even want to know. My parents knew better since they knew someone would 'heapt' me for me.
After highschool turned out bust I moved across country to take care of family, I ended up having my testes removed as an adult since they actually became a cancer risk,so with my freshly removed gonads and my drastic move across country I learned my soulmate did not in fact live anywhere in the fucking desert I was stuck in. Whoopty frickin do, I finally found them when my friend introduced me to. " Facebook for kinky fuckers," as they so delicately put it. I made a profile because let's face it I've always been a deviant little shit since I started showing off my rope skills as a child to put on three legged races that no one could get out of the race was to see who could catch my dumbass so they could be untied. I always won because no one coordinates so they would fall over and I'm a sadistic shit.
Now learning your soulmate lives closer to where you are then where you're supposed to go is distressing to say the least but add to that they're better then you've ever imagined and you're about to be dragged away from them is almost enough to drive a person mad. My kinky soulmate and I currently lived three states apart, I was about to be sent home five states away from him so I did what any sane person would do I hopped on a plain to Kansas and hitched a ride to my kinky soulmate a house. Now I'm autistic so things that make me uncomfortable are abundant and going home knowing my boy is a damn airplane ride away kills me. It makes me want to rip out my hair and drag myself across state lines to get to him but I waited to see him so. When we did meet my first words to him were as follows. " I heapt you." While he shouts out "IS THAt A knife in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" Turns out our first words to each other were tattooed on each other respectively and I'm the dumb shit who can't spell.
To be continued?