My own story is neither as tragic or as happy as some of the others.
The way I've always looked at it is this: you only get one life, and one soulmate. How can you possibly be sure who it is? You'll never know until you die and what if the person you spend your life with isn't your soulmate? Then you've had a life meant for someone else while your life was slipping further away.
My best friend knew how I felt about this. He knew why I kept my numbers covered and never dated. I didn't want to deal with the pain. My parents had died when I was younger and I was raised by my widowed aunt. I had seen what losing a soulmate does to you.
I wanted no part of it. That didn't stop my best friend. He loved me so much it scared me sometimes. But he was the only constant in my life and no matter how many times I pushed him away we were two sides to the same coin. I loved him as dearly as he loved me but I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch him die. I wouldn't.
I told him I didn't like him like that. That I wanted him to go have his own life, and every other lie I could think of to get him to leave. I just wanted him to be happy. But the thought of opening myself up to the heartbreak made me feel physically ill. He deserved better than a broken down fixer upper. He deserved a palace.
Eventually he did move on. Or he went out with other people anyway. Until one night when he was on his way to his girlfriends house. He was on a train. So was a maniac.
The wreckage was devastating. I could barely handle it, I shut down. I sat in front of my TV, not moving, not eating and trying desperately to not care.
After a few days I managed to get up the courage to look at my arm.
I never wanted to tear my own skin off so much as I did that day. I was ... beyond grief.
I stayed alive because I had to. My aunt needed me and I had friends that needed me. But it was hard. I could do it though. I was strong.
A year after his death, I was brushing my teeth when I caught a flash next to my side. My arm was glowing lightly. Slowly, the numbers began to go up. I didn't understand.
When they stopped, my second soulmate had forty years. And me? I had hope.
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