One part of me read this and thought: no. No screw that. I don’t need anyone to complete me. After all, isn’t that what we’ve been taught? That to make ourselves happy, we don’t require another body; another soul?
But then another part of me shook its head and laughed a little. It said I don’t believe because I am terrified I will never meet someone who fills all the crevices. How frightening, to think you might always be left with an ‘almost’.
You see, we shouldn’t spend our lives searching for a soulmate. We should spend it doing the things that make us happy. We should love ourselves and love the people around us who treat us with kindness. We should find meaning while being alone and this should be enough. You see, only when we complete ourselves as wholly as we possibly can will we discover the cracks.
And call me wishful, call me a romantic, but I believe if soulmates truly exist you do not find each other after a lifetime of searching but rather stumble upon one another in a bookstore or while catching a train or some other terribly ordinary, beautiful circumstance.