I'd like to embrace the fact that I'm one of those people who believe in soulmates, but even I am sometimes not sure. A part of me wants to accept that there is a person out there in the world that was made exactly for me, and that these person's hands fit perfectly into mine and that when our lips touch, the entire world shakes under our feet. I'd like to think you exist, somewhere, anywhere, and that all I need is time to find you, and the wisdom to know when I've mistaken you for someone else. Yet the other half of me understands that even if there was such a thing as twin hearts just waiting to be reunited, they wouldn't be the ones we end up with. They would be fragile and broken from the lessons life had to teach, and the journey they had to walk to find each other. They would be shooting stars of love, never quite real yet always present. Soulmates are for dreamers, and I think I saw you in my sleep.
Of course it was a disaster. One of unparalleled magnitude and suffrage. That damn, dearest secret has always, without pause, taken a heavy toll - the danger when we try to leave the life we have, to pursue the life we are certain we deserve. Then, once we're already on our way, we go through over and over again, what we should have done, instead of what we did, and how much sooner we should have acted in the first place. Yet for that brief moment frozen in time, it felt as if we were truly alive. That we could have moved canyons and broke through the clouds and touched the stars. We were misled, misused, lied to and cheated, that is for sure. Still, for a little while, we visited our possible lives, our possible existence outside these barriers the universe has created for us, outside the shackles of the living and above the barriers of those who have forgotten how to dream. For a short instant, we were free.
