Somewhere, out there, is someone I will probably fall in love with. Maybe not exactly at that moment when I see them, but maybe after our first conversation. Or our second date. Is it possible that we are never...fit for the "one"?
It's been a long time since I've believed in a soulmate. Maybe I've fallen in and out of love too many times; if I have, why do I gravitate to the idea of one? Could that be one of the defining characteristics of our human nature? Fully conscious of a damaged imperfect world but believing in something that isn't. I suppose that's hope.
Some philosophers would say that we are in the process of moving towards a more perfect existence. Granted, a slow process, but where and at what moment do we find life fully fulfilling? It has to have happened to someone at some point in history.
Sorrow, sadness, loneliness. No one is excluded from the privilege of these feelings. They mean you're alive and there is something out there that has yet to be discovered for you to feel fulfilled.
Currently, I'm living out in the Northeast. The weather is quite different from my native southern California, but life has become more rich...more colorful. It's autumn and leaves have been changing color for some time now. Brilliant shades of yellow and red light up my drives around town. I feel enriched, hopeful, but still a little lonely. When it comes to that, should I give up or should I keep chasing pavements?*
*excuse the weird contemplative post. I'm drunk and I've been listening to sad love songs.
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