For your pleasure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-v48VQBO7M
I don’t consider myself a know-it-all. I lack so much knowledge, and I don’t find it embarrassing admitting so. Yet the topic of soulmates always entertained me. I have met people worldwide; some were travelers visiting our realm from worlds I had never heard of before, and some locals. When I asked them to share their opinion on the concept of soulmates, each of them would tell me a beautiful tale with fictional figures, some would even use objects I could very well visualize, such as the sun and the moon. While the story might differ, one thing always remained the same: the need for two souls to reunite.
When I was a child, my mother told me countless times how I would find my soulmate one day. Just like she did. He would be handsome and brave, and we would complete each other in all aspects. But the time I dreamed about princes on white horses wasn’t immortal, nor was the time I was a child. When I grew up, I realized I didn’t need a man in my life to feel whole or feel beautiful. If I weren’t happy with what I had in life, no male would be able to make me feel better about it. Yet, the concept of a soulmate is one I never stopped studying.
How were all these people so sure they were with the right person? And how was true love even possible when you were so deeply involved in political shenanigans? My cousin Ali was the one to talk about soulmates and the magic that lay behind almost every night. He was pretty obsessed with this topic for a guy who changed his women as often as he changed his shirt. However, no matter how much Ali would insist, I never believed in the concept of soulmates.
What I believed in, though, was the power of instinct. You know, that feeling that originates in your belly that makes you feel odd. The range of that feeling is broad, and I still don’t know the meaning of the most. But I got well familiarized with one.
When I met Boone, I felt like falling, my stomach turning inside out. At that time, I thought it was the fact he had mentioned them, the Tokuro. If only I had known how wrong I was. How could I miss all the hints? Boone was no gift. He made sure his attitude was repealing enough to keep me away at a length of a sword. Yet, it didn’t work. Behind his obnoxious attitude, behind all boyish smile and brave words, I saw a man who was as scared as I was. He was lost, roaming in the shadows life had cast upon him, and I… I was lost in someone else's lies.
Boone excited me in ways I hadn’t experienced in ages. Every word that fell from his lip was like a newly found breath. His stories had me captive, offering a chance to escape from the reality I was living in. He would share a story of a woman that had gone through seven hells and was still battling for a life she deserved, always avoiding talking about a person I was interested in the most -him.
I was so thrilled when I asked him a question and had actually received an answer! It was strange, but it felt as if I had known him for ages. Even now, I lack the words to explain what I felt there… Have you ever experienced that moment when it feels like a greater power from above is pushing you towards the right decisions, towards what was right for you? That is how I felt with him. I knew how to hear him out, not just to listen. How to read between the lines he had given me to find what he was so ashamed to speak about. And in return, he knew how to read my concealed feelings and recognize what I was genuinely longing to ask but didn’t for reasons I had yet to share.
We made an agreement, and I gave him two months of my time in exchange for more of his stories. Was I so eager to find more about the heroine of his tale, Lyanna Legend? No. I just hadn’t realized how attached I was growing to him back then.
We spend fifteen wonderful days together, getting to know each other's personalities and oddities. Boone would tell me how he liked pastries and the autumn pallet, and I would share with him how I had made black my color when my favorite color was yellow. We became quite fond of each other even though he or I would step over our pride to admit there was more than just companionship. It wasn’t a sign of friendship when he kissed my forehead in the mornings, thinking I was still asleep, nor was when I invited him into my bed every single night. There was something more.
On the morning of the fifteenth day, I woke up to a cold room, and Boone was gone. It didn’t take long for me to find the bedside note that told me I should be taking the day for myself and that he would be later that day. Carelessly I did as the message suggested and focused on some tasks I kept postponing while in Boone’s company. When I returned to an empty bed that night, my feelings became clearer.
Boone wasn’t just a man that kept my mind occupied with his stories. He wasn’t just a riddle I was trying to solve. He was the one. I realized I couldn’t function without him. He had occupied my thoughts entirely, and when he was gone, all air had left me too. I began to search for him then, visiting the places he had shown me. Every time I left our room, I would leave him a note if he returned and I wasn’t there. These were by far the three darkest days in my life. I’ve lost my appetite. Thoughts of something terrible that had happened to him kept me away at night. And not even for once had I thought on giving up. That much I trusted his word.
On the third day, he returned looking a bloody mess. That was the day I sold the claim to my soul to someone who wanted it as much as I wished to Boone alive. I didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment. And if I had the chance to replay the incidents, I would do the same because, in my eyes, there is no life without him. I was whole before. I was happy. But I didn’t have a reason. Boone is my reason.
The reason I want to wake up early in the morning is only to catch a gleam of his sleeping face. He is the reason I want to keep smiling, just to see him smiling back at me. He is the reason I want to grow into something he would love and admire. I call him a monster because that is how he characterized himself once, and I will continue calling him this way until he realizes that I am not afraid. When I told him I wanted him to be mine, I invited his demons too.
So, going back to the start. What is a soulmate, and do they truly exist? I don’t know. But I know that I found a man that worth risking everything for. A man with so match darkness in his life, yet he is a colorful aspect in mine. I gave myself to him, my entire existence lays in his palm. All it takes for me to cease existing is for him to squeeze, and I am absolutely fine with it.