I Do Not Like My Soulmate (c)

For those of you who believe in soulmates, she/he… they are out there, I assure you. I know it. Of course I know it. But what if, you do find each other, and then one of you says, “No. I can’t do this”?

After a couple of moons of first meeting, I, too, was in a love-hate relationship; could not decide which. Yes, me!

Over the years, and the centuries, I helped you–you humans–find love, build relationships, and along the way assemble tools to help with connecting and communicating; and yet, it is my own inventions that stymied me.

What I have come to dislike… the pointless analysis of feelings and recent mistakes. And, as it turns out, my love, and my hate, would grow together.

So I am in the same boat as many of you. Imagine that. I, deity of love, have many of the same questions, and struggles.

Our meeting–me and her–was magnificent. So much so, that I had come to realize early on, or maybe I decided, that I did not want us to be apart. The forces were unmistakable and unbearable; yet, the question I asked myself, “Can I tolerate the whole package, or am I okay with someone less of a soulmate?” And there lies in the problem. A specific expectation and a standard. A definition of what makes a bond and a partnership, with little regard to what is necessary in exchange. An adoration for a soulmate, with no consideration to the fact that there was a heart opposite me, one making efforts to build a bond, with me, and needing something in return.

May be it was all a call for me to become a different deity, for to give and be closer I could not do.

It all began in a gathering. I decided we were soulmates–partners created for each other–within the first moment of being in that fateful sky. There were no eyes locking, no love at first sight. It was more. It was utter disbelief. It was more than love. Another couple of gatherings and I simply treasured it when we were around each other, when we managed to talk. It felt like I could say anything, and wanted to say everything.

For your benefit–no condescension intended–consider, for a moment, the two ends of your spectrum. On one end, it is an arranged relationship, and they are forced to be together. They live out their years. Some couples manage to build love; others look elsewhere; and others become trapped in unhappiness. I came across a fellow who needed my help some decades ago. He spoke of his wife of 40 years as a stranger, someone who could not understand him. To him, it was a life lost to time.

On the opposite end is a flavor of your modern love, the “I will find my soulmate.” “We will cross paths.” Sara Thomas and Jonathan Trager. Serendipity. Unfortunately for me, and you, there now is that usual first text of fluff. The second comes shortly thereafter.

I don’t respond to fluff. I am the prince of true love. The love where small words and texts are not needed.

For my ‘soulmate’, the lack of response meant rejection; but really, a rejection of the small words, of the approach.

Anyway. This led to no talking, and disappointments instead. When there weren’t any words, there was not anything. Silence for weeks. I felt it was a warped bond, if anything.

We did not communicate, and could not understand how each operated. Maybe we could not manage the possibility.

The one person who made me happy simply by being there, by seeing and acknowledging me, I rejected because… because I could not admit that I cared, because I could not bring myself to respond with fluffy words. Responding to fluff seemed like accepting the in-between, and like letting my guards down. The fluff, as I saw it, was an attempt to test the waters. I could not give in; I would not allow such an admission to come out of me. Either we bond, at the same time, or we don’t. This was a different game from the one I knew. Or, maybe it was more than admissions; may be it was also an attempt to build trust but slowly and from a different end.

Could I accept it in exchange for the smile, the comfort of that one tremendous embrace? The hands?

No. In the end I did not want to. Or maybe could not.

Or was my famed intuition wrong? Did I misinterpret my feelings?

Again no. My intuition and my interpretation were both right on. It was just too challenging. We were not ready for each other; and, I think that’s part of everyone’s existence–human or not. I had to admit it, and move on. I had to move on because I was losing my sight of my purpose. My wings were fading. I had to move on… to recall that I existed to help build love, not hate. So, a bit of re-learning, and a bit of my own arrows.

The issue I have with the latter end of your spectrum is that there is too much room for escape. She and I did not have to deal when we didn’t want to. In another world, we may have been forced to change in order to survive with each other. For us, admittedly it was hard, but we also both turned in different directions because we did not have to stay. Love was not enough.

The love I felt was a potential, a possibility, a desire; actual love simply did not come to fruition. Apparently it needed more time, and effort, on both our parts. There was love from the inside waiting to become a reality, but there was also confrontation from the outside. So I had to return to building love, to re-learn about giving it.