Are they something real? Or something romantics made up?
I actually had to look up what it meant and Wikipedia’s definition pretty much sums up what I know.
A soulmate (or soul mate) is a person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, or compatibility and trust.
I think soulmates are people (yes more than one) in your life who know you better than you know yourself. They take the desires that you hide from the rest of the world (because they’re too vain, too selfish, too anything) and show you how beautiful it can be, held up in a different light. Soulmates are a messy business, however. They break you open, and end up hurting you (most of the time) to show you what you need to know (and not just want you want to know). They take you apart and put you back together again, not always the same way as you started (and not always the right way, either). They come in to your life, sweep you away in a maelstrom of emotions, and feelings and leave you feeling intensely over everything. They come in to teach you something, to break you open and force you to learn whatever they need you to see (whatever you need you to see) and disappear again, as suddenly as they appeared.
Some soulmates are the best things to happen to you. They shed light on dark areas of the world and let you see things clearer, let you see how beautiful the world can be and all the possibilities that are out there. They give you hope, and love, and light.
And then there are some that are mistakes. Some that take you apart, fix you up, just to take you apart again. They let you feel the most riveting of emotions. Happiness, passion, love, disappointment, hurt… So much hurt. That by the time they leave, you’re a mess. A mess that feels only the hurt. And all you want is for them to come back and make you feel blissful again. Your eyes are affixed on them, refusing to see how much hurt they leave you in after. Like a junkie, all you look forward to is the now. The high that comes with their presence. Damn the future.
Later on, when the high has subsided and you’re left alone in the mess you’ve made for yourself, you realize just how much of a mistake it was to continue. But then you reach for them again, because you can’t help yourself. You’re a junkie. A junkie for a mistake.
What’s your favorite mistake?