Letter to my Soul Mate

I realize I’m a little late for my 100 Stories in 100 Days. I also realize that my first writing isn’t a “story”. I was thinking about this on my birthday, and decided to share it. Maybe I should change it to 100 Writings in 100 Days. Forgive my tardiness. Starting today, I begin the journey of 100 Writings in 100 Days. Wish me luck!

October 16, 2014
Writing # 1

To my soul mate that I have not yet met,

You do not know me, nor do I know you. One thing I know for certain, however, is that I have put a lot of thought into you. I often wonder if you do the same for me. Do you ever wonder who I am, where I am, and when we will meet? I have.

Am I going to meet you at the store one day when I’m out buying groceries? Will you stop to help me on the side of the road if I get a flat tire? Or will I accidentally bump into you and knock your things to the ground, just like in the movies?

I often wonder what you look like, dear Soul Mate. Do you have dark hair? Light hair? Is it long or short? But what drives me crazy with curiosity is what color your eyes are. Are they green or brown? Do they sparkle when you smile?

What does your voice sound like, I ask myself. Does it flow smoothly, or does it have a gravelly sound? What do you sound like when you laugh?

I know I’m not supposed to tell, because it will ruin it, but I dedicated my birthday wish to you. Do you do the same for me? That should tell you how much I wish to find you.

I picture what our life would be like together. I picture something comfortable, something nice. I picture a proper family with a dog in the backyard. I hear the laughter of our children as they run around carefree, and the steam from our coffee cups rise in the cool morning air.

One more thing I wish to know. Do you smile often, and is it genuine? Because I hope to see that smile as often as I can. I like to imagine it warming my heart on a cold day, and making my stomach do flips. I like to picture that smile making me weak at the knees.

Most importantly, however; do you love me as I love you? Can you accept me with all my scars, my broken pieces? I don’t want you to fix me, but maybe you could help me with the repairs. I would do the same for you. We can help repair each other.

I do not know who you are, where you are from, or when we will meet. But I hope, if you do exist, that you wish to find me as badly as I wish to find you.

Until we speak,

                Jackie Spade

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