He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t analyze. Don’t expect for more than he can give. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.
Most people think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.
A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life.
Soul mates don’t follow rules, they don’t have to be of a certain age, size or description, they don’t even have to be lovers, they could just be any two people who love each other.
His favourite mornings began with a message from her. Even the harmless “good morning” jump started his day with a smile. On days she didn’t message, everything seemed wrong with the world. He had known her for a short while but it seemed like an eternity. They had become good friends over a period of time. He watched her work her way through the day, hiding is stares between causal conversations. He hoped his eyes didn’t betray him and give away what he had been hiding.
He saw her through the window. She was impatiently looking into her phone. She was waiting for him. All he wanted to do was sweep her off her feet and take her in his arms. Instead he stood at a distance, watching her. Stealing a moment as he filled his eyes with images of her.
He wished he could tuck the errant strand of hair that kept troubling her. He wished he could freeze the smile that curved on her lips. He wished he could kiss her forehead, and wipe all her worries away. He wished to be the reason of her happiness. He wished he could tell her what she meant to him.
He sighed as he walked up to her.
She smiled as she saw him, his heart skipped a beat. She was complaining about him being late, but he couldn’t take his off her earring that kept kissing her cheek. He cleared his throat and apologised. She kept talking, telling him everything that happened along with everything that could have happened, questioning him with her big eyes when he didn’t respond. He shook his head and replied to her. The sun kept crawling to meet the western horizon as their chats went on, then it was the the time of the day he hated the most. Time for her to go back into her world, and for him to come back into his.
They would spend the whole day talking yet he would miss her when she was gone. He would look at her pictures when she wasn’t there, making him feel her presence around him. He would replay the stories she would tell him, imagining himself with her in them. He would wait all night for it to be morning, just so he could see her again. She was the last thought in his mind before he slept and the first after he woke up. He wondered if she thought of him sometimes the way he thought of her. He wondered is she would let him do, all that he wanted to.
She was pretty and she was smart, she was perfect like a piece of art. She was everything a girl should be. The only thing she wasn’t was that, she wasn’t his.
“Why am I afraid to lose you, when you aren’t even mine” he thought aloud.
The thought troubled him for a bit, but he pushed it away. He didn’t care who she belonged to, cause no one could take her thoughts away from him.
She was and would always be his pretty little secret.
“You will begin to touch heaven in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. Perfect speed.. is being there.”