What if my soul mate is a junkie?
What if I already met my soul mate, and he wasn’t ready to love me?
Intuitively, I believe in soul mates and soul mate love.
I also believe I will not spend the rest of my life with one.
There are a lot of unwell people in the world who will never live up to their potential. There are a lot of beautiful spirits who will only make one self-destructive choice after another until they die. What if that person was supposed to be better, get better, and learn something in this lifetime, but never did?
Then what becomes of that person’s soul mate? Are they doomed to a loveless life only because their soul mate f*cked it up? I don’t think so.
I have been in love—that’s for sure. And more than once. I was madly in love with my last boyfriend, and when things ended, I felt like a bucking horse kicked me in the chest and knocked me on my ass. My ex was the first love who made me believe in the possibility of having a soul mate. I felt like when it came to love, god swooped down and gave me a true gift—an angel—then it ended.
I may have already met my soul mate, but he wasn’t ready for me, and I’m okay with that. I won’t spend the rest of my life with my soul mate, but I’m still capable of loving someone else if the right person comes along.
Either way, I’m not going to wait for my ex-boyfriend to see the light and my worth, and I refuse to believe I am unlovable only because I don’t have him.
There are many sources of pleasure and love in my life that have nothing to do with a romantic partner, and it’s okay. I’m not saying petting my cats and reading self-improvement books is in any way a substitute for sex, but I’m fine with that. Sometimes, I’m more than fine.
Even if we don’t get love from the person we want, we can still experience love that is wonderful and beautiful. Even without soul mate love, we can still have love.
I decided not to wait for someone else to love me in order to feel lovable. Slowly, inch by inch, I’m sewing my life back together with small moments of joy and things and people who make me feel the real presence of love—and I’m okay.
Before I started my last relationship, I stopped running after years of being an avid runner—I was tired. Recently, I started running again. Every time I get knocked on my ass, doing something that makes my body stronger helps me be stronger in other ways.
Running is making me stronger physically, but more importantly, time spent alone and deep breathing are detoxifying my mind. I’m retraining my mind not to give up when I feel like giving up.
I cannot give up on love. I must trust that even though I can’t see it right now, I will eventually have a relationship I won’t have to recover from.
I’m also not rushing into another one. I’m giving myself time to heal. If I broke my leg, I would not run six miles the following week. I’ve been hurt and I need time to heal. I’m giving myself that gift.
Many years ago, I studied French. I stopped because it seemed so impractical. I live in Montana and there are no opportunities to speak French here. But it gives me deep satisfaction to make sense out of words that once confused me. I’m studying French again for no practical reason other than it gives me joy.
It’s important to have sources of happiness that don’t depend on being in a relationship.
For most of my dating life, I shared almost every detail with my friends about the ups and downs of my relationships. There is great value in being heard and supported, but this last relationship was different. My life is filled with so many people who genuinely love me, but talking about what we can’t undo isn’t going to take away the pain.
I just have to feel the pain that rises to the surface. I decided to trust myself to do what I need to do to heal and become stronger. Being more private than usual is also helping me trust myself more, rather than letting other people weigh in on what I should be doing or not.
In the mornings, I get up and drink black coffee in my backyard when the rest of the world is still quiet and the birds are awake. In the evenings, I listen to Bob Dylan sing, “It Ain’t Me Babe,” and I write poems at my kitchen table while my dog sleeps on the couch.
Eventually, my heart will be strong enough to take another risk.
Romantic love is intoxicating and wonderful, but I don’t need to be intoxicated all the time.
Do I have more than one soul mate? Maybe, maybe not.
Can I still have a good life right now? Definitely.
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