Soulmates, The Ones, and Other Minor Infatuations

Seeing that it is the end of the year and I'm in SUCH a pondering type of mood, I will continue to touch upon another thorn-at-my-side type issue I'd love to resolve. The Counterpart. Obviously, there are no delusions to resolve this within the next oh... 22 hours, but I also strive to make some sense or peace of it all.

I've met "a soulmate," I've met "a one" and like many girls out there I've had many heartachingly frustrating infatuations. I preface these people with an "a" because I have to believe that there is more than one out there. Or I could also admit that I was stupendously wrong and only thought I had met a soulmate and the one (two different people, strangely enough.)

I'll start by saying that in a tremendously low moment the other day, I actually fled the scene when I bumped into the boy I once believed to be a soulmate. He didn't see me, and it had been years since we'd talked or seen each other, but I felt blah and unfit for any human contact other than perfect strangers. At one point we were dear to each other and I truly thought he was a kindred spirit who also knew how to push my buttons for better and worse. It all sounds so silly now, but at the time, I took a chance on this friend and told him how I felt. Sadly it was not a storybook ending and the friendship deteriorated quickly after that. That was the first and last time I ever took a chance to tell someone I liked them.

"The one" on the other hand was a beautifully torturous life lesson. Full of denial, hope, massive weeping, more hope, heartache, unfailing faith that it would somehow work out in the end - so much so that I swore to UBBF that if ever I ended up with someone else, she alone would know he was number two, and finally painful acceptance that a person I cared for so much and would leave everything for, just didn't feel the same way about me. Not even a fraction of that. Despite all the time we spent together - the meals he cooked for me, picking each other up at airports, Xmas shopping together, attending dinners and parties together, and for a blissfully long time, knowing that we were the last person the other one spoke to before nodding off for bed. None of it meant a thing.

It was a reaffirmation that my so called gut instinct, continued to have shit for brains. (The same gut instinct that's told me it's fine to fall for the wrong people, and also had me initially disliking every single person that ended up being one of my closest friends.) It also taught the lesson that just because I had never felt that way about anyone before and felt so 100% confident that we'd end up together, red flags be damned, that Feeling can also mean nothing will come to fruition. No matter how hard you will it so.

Clearly it was a shellacking designed to make me stronger and wiser, to learn how to cut my losses earlier and recognize disinterest right off the bat. And it did in a way.

Unfortunately, the day after I triumphantly confessed to Turtle that after two years, I finally felt good again and optimistic about meeting someone new, in waltzed Mr. DD early this year to set me back a couple of steps.

To be continued and concluded...