Stopwatched

Prologue

The first time I turned 18, I made a number of vows to myself. I would outlive all of my friends, I would live a life of riches, and, perhaps most importantly, I would never find my soul mate. Now I know what you're thinking; well, actually I don't, but I know a few things you might be thinking - that refusing to find true love sounds insane, or that this is going to be a sappy love story. But I assure you, dear reader, that this is nothing of the sort. It was May, and I was turning 18 for perhaps the 5th time, but frankly at that point I had stopped keeping track. You see, where I come from, people don't care about birthdays after you turn 18. They only want to know one thing - have you found your soul mate? Because around here, finding the love of your life essentially means you're dying. Rather bittersweet, if you asked me, perhaps too bittersweet. I,
on the other hand, intend to live forever. Now where, you may ask, is this grand soliloquy headed? Well here's the thing - once you turn 18, your existential clock suddenly comes to a halt. The best part? It stays there. Forever. Forever, or until you find your soul mate. Some people live horrified by this reality, desperately searching for their soul mate and carrying out their days lonely and depressed until the agony drives them to take their own life. To me though, this seems purely fantastic. I'm going to live forever young, and by God, I am going to do it right.