Soulmates

Heartbreak is an interesting phenomenon. When I think about all of my past lovers, I think about the way in which I felt complete at that moment. To this day I fail to understand why it takes another person to make me feel complete. For this reason, I have also believed in soulmates and romanticized the idea of feeling empty with the absence of another individual. As I grow older, I am beginning to see this mindset as problematic and untrue.

My last heartbreak required me to shift my perspective on love. I believed this person to be my one and only soulmate. At 21, I believed that I had found the person that I would be marrying, having children with, and giving the rest of my life to. Now that this relationship has ended, I feel stranger than ever - I feel as though I have gained something. I don't know whether it's independence, confidence, or something else. I hope to find out soon what this strange new feeling is. For now, these growing pains make me feel uncomfortable and slightly poetic. I feel as though I can write hundreds of poems about the soulmate who is no longer here, or there, or anywhere.

“A SHORT LOVE STORY” - Rita Perez 

I remembered waking up lazily to his dark and cozy room the first night that I told him that I loved him. He laid in bed peacefully, I gave him the softest kiss that I could, and then I crawled out of bed quietly, hoping not to wake him. As I walked towards the kitchen for a glass of water, I imagined my future with this man, the man of my dreams.

I imagined myself pouring him a glass of water at our new apartment in Virginia with the Brita I had sent him in June. To me it was useful, practical, and would save him time from leaving his apartment on snowy or rainy D.C. days to go and purchase a gallon of water from his local Safeway. In my head, he would greatly appreciate the gift and thoughtfulness. 

I imagined him thinking of me every time he used it - a gentle reminder that I hoped would convince him that I was as essential to him as water was for his body. 

The idea of being with him became embedded in my mind, an essential part of my future, as essential to my body as the glass of water I was drinking. As I placed the almost empty gallon of water back into his fridge and walked back towards the man of my dreams, I thought to myself, “We’ll really need a Brita.”