I keep missing a man I never met.
A person whom my soul grieves every minute of the day.
A happy place to turn to when I’m upset.
Only to remember, that he isn’t here yet.
He never was, and may never be.
Because I need to be capable on my own.

But the thing is, I’m ok alone. I’m doing fine alone. But my heart clenches for another heart to sync my beats.

A soul that speaks my mother language like I do.
I don’t want it to be an unhealthy obsession or to make my life revolve around him or for him to carry the center piece of my heart that is meant for God.

I want an arm to sleep in. Someone to love the lovey pieces of me and someone to love the parts that I hate about myself. Because no matter how many times I’m told to love myself before I want to be loved I can’t help but disagree.

I love the beautiful parts of me. But the old ugly scars, the bald spots, the strawberry skin, the mean, selfish part of me…it’s toxic and unnatural to fall in love with these parts of myself.

But a soulmate, they see the pain those pieces of me cause, they see my clear dislike for them. And for that they love those parts of me: because to him it’s my most sensitive vulnerable naked self hiding a little kid thinking she’s too stupid and worthless for the big adventures in the world. To a lover, my flaws are nothing but a proof that I am not a dream and rather a reality. A soul flush against them, a soul having so much faith love and respect for them that it timidly shows their scars and faults whilst crossing my fingers to be accepted and loved regardless.

My heart aches and calls for the man who will hold me in his big strong arms. A man who will whisper in my ears that it will all be ok. When the morning comes he will help me wake up because heaven knows getting up is the hardest part of my day.

I hate waking up only to face a reality I in all means wish to procrastinate facing it. I do wake up when I’m alone. I do wake up now with no man. And I face reality regardless. But is it so bad to want another soul to help me bear the weight of the average day?

Is it weak of me to wish for a soul that loves me dearly that never picks up every little bad habit I have and reproach me for it?

Is it bad to want more than a parent that blames?
To want more than a friend that wants what’s best for you but can never really truly see your soul?
All of the paradoxal parts of your soul?
Is it so bad to want more than a friend who turns a blind eye to your ugly pieces?
Is it so bad to want someone to believe in my possibly non existent ability to achieve my unrealizable dreams?

I am grateful for thé love i have in my life. For my friends. For my little siblings that have so much expectations for me yet I continue doing exactly what hurt me as a child to them. Yet I continue to disappoint them. Yet I continue to shove my ugly soul down their throat. Only to show them glimpses of the beautiful energy in me. Oh how I hate who I become when my sisters catch me in a bad mood.

How I hate that the antidepressants don’t do **** anymore. How I hate that I feel completely utterly like an ugly mess. Is it so bad to wish for a Prince Charming to make me feel like a beautiful princess that regardless of her apparent weakness and helplessness she has a magic power that no one holds but her?

A magic power that only worked after the appearance of Prince Charming. I can understand the anger of women. Their anger towards men and Disney. Their obsession with doing it all alone. I understand it all. But is it so bad that I haven’t lost hope? That I believe in a soul mate? That I hope and can only hope that our roads will cross?

Don’t tell me to get up on my own. To do all of that on my own. Because I will. I will become better and I will become beautiful on my own. But is to so bad to wish for a man to watch me evolve?

Is it so bad to wish for a masculine energy other than that overly exposed part of me?
Is it so bad that no man has ever lived up to the standards of my soulmate?
Is it so bad that no soul has been able to fluently understand my language?

Whatever fate holds for me. I hope that God would ******* out of strong and beautiful. But God will you please please allow my soul to meet its companion.

For God, I need no one but you. But you know, you know how the journey is much more pretty and less bitter when surrounded by the souls I was intertwined with before they became ripped apart and each was given a temporary house: a body.

But my house will never be a home if there is no one to come back to. God I miss him so much. Don’t tell me he doesn’t exist. He might have died. Heck we might no even exist in the same era.

But he existed I can feel him. In the cries of my soul. In the grieves of my soul. In the longing of my soul. In the back of my head. A distant memory that I can’t remember but that always haunts me. I can feel him in the way I’m so loyal to a person that I don’t remember.

God please have mercy on me and let our souls intertwine again during this life. The want is turning into a dull ache in my chest to violent thudding against my rib cage to a full hollow heart.