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#121 Meeting your soulmate

Let me say this. “The ONE” does exist. I am living proof. I dated a lot of nice guys. Every single one of them (well, most of them anyway) were incredibly kind, respectful, compassionate, patient, funny, affectionate, honest and humble. I would bring one home to meet my parents, and eventually my mother would say, “I can’t make an effort anymore. You bring home really nice guys and I love them. But then three or four months later you dump them.” Now, in her defence, this was true. I’d give it the old college try and be very excited for the first two months. But somewhere during month three something in my stomach would turn, and I couldn’t ignore it. By month four I was practicing my breakup speech. I told myself I was being crazy. They were all incredible guys I would be lucky to be with. But my stomach was not having it, despite what my head was saying. It just didn’t feel right. And when you start to try and convince yourself to be with someone, it’s time to end it. It’s not fair to them or to you. So you go your separate ways yet again, and get back in the dating pool.

You get on the merry-go-round dating scene, and by thirty-five-years-old, you are dizzy and about to throw up. So you decide to get off and focus on yourself. That’s when you decide to join an amateur theatre group, where you will sing and dance with a bunch of other crazy adults who are just as passionate about performing as you. And guess who walks in to rehearsal that first day? Yep, your soulmate. You don’t speak to him the entire ten weeks of rehearsal because you’re there to focus on yourself. But one day you end up sitting beside each other on the couch watching your friends perform in their scene. The couch is small, so four of you are smooshed in together. The entire sides of your bodies are now against each other, and immediately you begin to feel a sense of warmth all over your body. This is the kind of warmth that you feel when you take that first sip of hot chocolate after coming in from the cold, or when you take that first step into a hot shower after getting caught in the rain. Warmth oozes through your entire body, and yet you also experience something else. It’s a sense of familiarity, of family, of coming home to family. It was the oddest sensation, but there it was. Without even speaking, I knew. Only when we finally spoke the last night of the show were my feelings confirmed. Less than three sentences spoken, I told him that we were best friends in a previous life to which he looked at me plainly and said, “I have absolutely no doubt.” That was it. We talked for three hours and knew we would spend our lives together. It was the absolute craziest thing I’d ever experienced.

Every time he prances around the bedroom naked, shaking his butt, I know he is my soulmate. Every time he sings out the broadway hits from Rent, Les Miserables, Next to Normal, or Hamilton, I know he is my soulmate. Every time I feel down and he comes home with six gossip magazines and two pints of my favourite ice cream, I know he is my soulmate. Every time we burst out laughing during sex, I know he’s my soulmate. Every time he brings me a Nutella, peanut butter and banana wrap, just out of the panini presser, I know he’s my soulmate. Every time I need to talk and he listens with compassion, I know he’s my soulmate. Every time I’m sad and he holds me tight, I know he’s my soulmate.

I had my list of what I was looking for in a partner. But I know that there is something mystical out there that brought us together. It was as if the universe said, “This is the person you’re going to grow old with. It may not look exactly like you thought it would. But that’s life kid. You’ll figure out the details.” And that’s exactly what we did.



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