And All That Could Have Been [HIATUS]

013

"I swear Em, I hate him so much ! Gaaaah !"

Highly irritated, I punch one of the throw pillows by my side while simultaneously letting out a strangled scream that does nothing to alleviate my frustration. It is lunchtime (for me) and early breakfast (for her) on Saturday, we are currently having our fifth "investigation meeting", as we call it, of the week. No matter how hard my sister and I try, there has not yet been much progress to identify anything about my unknown soulmate. Nor has there been progress about me being able to say those words out loud without stammering either...

The only positive thing is that I have approximately shortened the time frame during which I could have met him, though even that is a wild guess based on debatable suppositions. If I take the average of six days before the apparition of the symptoms, add it to the weird pains and mood swings I had at the very beginning of the week, probabilities say that I met him last Tuesday.

I feel confident saying it could not have happened any other day, because the dozens of meeting accounts I read for my research all say the same thing : when you meet your soulmate, it always starts with your eyes locking onto each other. Like a gravitational pull, your senses tunnel out everything else until you feel yourself falling into their eyes. Some have likened it to something akin to hypnosis, others going as far as comparing it to a form of spiritual enlightenment ! Is that even believable ?

No matter what, if there is even one thing I can trust among all the information I have gathered, meeting them seems to be such an earth-shattering moment, a long one that can span up to several minutes, that I cannot have accidentally met him on the tube or in a shop and not noticed. With my best estimation of meeting him on Tuesday, the only plausible scenario for this fucked-up situation is that I met him while drunk out of my mind then lost the memories in my hangover black-out. Why does this happen to me ?

Coming to this conclusion has been the rather easy part of this crazy puzzle. Once I had this starting point, a weight was lifted off my chest and I could jump into action. I spent the whole afternoon at the club yesterday, trying to find someone that would give me a copy of the guest list for the fateful party we attended. Of course, I failed miserably because, one, it was a very select party with only show business VIPs, two, I could not ask too many questions without being discovered as someone who crashed that party or worse, mistaken for a journalist looking for a juicy story to publish.

Which brings us back to this moment of hilarity for my sister, since I am sharing the details of my pitiful attempts to get a hold of this elusive guest list, that could literally change my life. Sending her a dirty look, though I can see the humour in my situation, I really am mad at the faceless guy who brought me to such low extremes.

"Seriously, look what he made me do ! If my colleagues knew the level of embarrassment that experience was, I'd lose all my professional credibility. Rule number one of the entertainment industry : you do not ask questions, you do not snoop around ! And what did I do ? The exact contrary, of course !"

Emma is barely holding in her laughter when she answers, "Okay girl, calm down ! Don't get your panties in a twist, this is not so serious. A bit of awkwardness never hurt anybody, don't be a drama queen about this."

"Oh no, you did not just say that !" Sending a dark look in direction of my screen, I clear my throat to bring us back to a more pressing subject.

"Seriously, I don't know what to do about this guest list. I don't see how I can get it, and even if I did, then what ? I stalk every male guest until I happen to stumble upon my soulmate ? What if he is not a guest at all, but someone who crashed the party like us ? Or a temp hired for the evening ?"

At this point, I am holding my head in my hands, feeling completely hopeless about the situation.

"What happens if I never find him ?", I ask in a very small voice.