“The most ordinary mortal bodies are housed by spectacular souls.” 

― Julie Berry, Lovely War

Her

I’ve always believed the story of the red string. Or simply, the concept of soulmates. Red string is the invisible connection that you have with your destined lover. No matter how far you are from each other, destiny will pull you back together. This string will be your lifeline. This string will be your promise that you’ll never be apart from each other’s hearts. I grew up believing this story. Wishing that someday I’ll meet that someone or maybe I’ve met him already; I just didn’t know.

“Foolish little girl. Stop reading those stupid fairy tales. They won’t do anything good to you.” My mom, Miranda, would tell me.

She said soulmates are a thing for the dreamers. And dreamers don’t survive reality. She told me that if I don’t stop dreaming, I won’t last at the outside world. What is that really? Why can’t I survive reality? Why do we have to always give up something when in the end we won’t be happy? Should I just die? Should I continue to dream? Without these stories, am I even alive? I looked down my window. Watching cars passing by, saying their quick Hello’s and goodbye’s.

I live in a small town where everybody knows everyone. When a small gossip spreads, it spreads like a plague. Quick, deadly and silent. But no matter how hard I looked, I can’t seem to find that someone. When will I be able to find you?

Him

My parents always told me that whenever they would look into my eyes, all that they can see is oblivion. Nothing. Empty. Hollow. They said that I should dream more. Hope for the better. Read stories and let my imagination grow wilder. But that’s not how I am. I use my brain to solve things logically. I highly avoid being swayed by my unbalanced hormones. They are useless. They are just hindrances.

My parents would tell me to go outside. Explore the world. See things in a different perspective. Breathe for once in a while, but I don’t have that privilege. I can’t smile, knowing someday I’ll reach my end. But then, I met you.

So foolish. Naive. Innocent to the terrors of the world. When I looked into your eyes, I saw the opposite of mine. Maybe you can teach me what I need to find. Something that will make me less hollow. Empty. Nothing. Maybe you can read me your stories. How you see the world in your eyes.

When I saw you, I never thought I would end up like this. My rational calculative brain began to malfunction. Some kind of error breached within. I was afraid. What is this tugging feeling that keeps pulling me into you? What is this force? Gravity? I can’t formulate any theory. Please, tell me.

And for once, I feel weak. Vulnerable. Fragile.

You were something I can’t comprehend. I can’t decipher. Why? Why do my eyes keep searching you from the crowd? Why do I feel the urge, the need, to make you smile when you frown? Why does my heart become erratic when you would walk towards me? Why do I tremble when I hear you call my name?

These stupid chemicals. Imbalances. These that make me feel alive. Once more. For the last time, I wanted to see the world. I wanted to look at it with you. Dream about thousands of myths with you. Talk about your hidden tales with you. Bathe in the stars with the spectacular you.

Look in to my eyes and maybe you’ll see that for once, I may not seem hollow, won’t you agree?

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