Soul Leveling

Solo Attachment

What is a soulmate? In theory we all know what it means, but in real life is there really that one person that completes us so we give ourselves over to them entirely and irrevocably? Is there really that one person for every soul?

Pita's pale fingers slowly combed through her dark hair as she childishly put her other hand out to touch the raindrops. She thought about how she ended up once again staring at the rain as she so often did in the past when she found herself caught up in emotions she didn't understand. Her soft green eyes looked vacant as she sat in the cold darkness staring at the 3am moon on her patio.  She wondered what he was doing and if he was staring at the same sky wondering what she was doing too.

When she first met Shia he seemed witty and cunning. It was never about sexuality or beauty, it was all in the mind. They could've been blindfolded and still have the same amount chemistry that they have now, not to discredit his looks in anyway.

He presented himself as acculturated, independent, unapologetically black and comedic. Your quintessential tall, dark and handsome with modern style and an old soul. Every word he ever spoke was kind and every interaction they had left a lingering smile on her face. She couldn't understand why though. Wasn't he married? Wasn't that against her rules? Why even allow it to reach this far? She usually frowned upon this sort of behavior when other women did it but foolishly justified that he was far away, so this was harmless.

Where did it start?
The music came first, something about a kindred spirit always intrigued her. Similar tastes in music, sports, politics, similar wit and charm, evenly matched competitors and aligned chakras. It seemed like things moved so fast that she didn't even realize what was happening, and by that time he had already infiltrated her innermost barriers. Never had she met a man who could match her intellect as she always thought herself to be the smartest in the room without even giving it a second thought; yet here he was keeping her on her toes and holding her interests with every "...typing..." or "recording audio..."

Silly girl. She was supposed to be past this. Is it that her heart is so paper thin that it was easy to penetrate? Couldn't be; others tried and they couldn't even pass Go. It's like he rolled a 6, went straight to Boardwalk and never passed the dice. No one else could touch the hem of his Thawb; thats how highly she thought of him. Ridiculous. Hasty. Foolish! Are you 14? No ma'am (as he often calls her) you are 30. You hate men remember? They all lie and gaslight your emotions; you're stronger now! You're healing and no one is supposed to even remotely be taking over your thoughts. So why is this happening?

She feels like she's losing touch with her mind, her consciousness feels altered, everything just...blurred. She knows the right thing to do is to back off but something about the way her heart throbs when he initiates contact; it's a giddiness, as though there are no obstacles between them, everything else has a strange way of fading to black just by simple contact.

Does he touch himself the way she did when she thought about him? Did he cum twice thinking about how she could touch him intimately or taste him masterly or feel him deeply? Does he picture the moment they meet or fight the urge to say what he really wants to say too? What's going on in his mind?

So many questions that would never be answered; remember he's already committed and she's "healing from brokenness" or whatever she tells herself when she wants to make sense to the person in the mirror. Neither of them physically available but mentally? Psychologically? Spiritually? They couldn't be more connected. 

So where does it go from here? Certainly he's gonna think she's a creep if she says anything...but what if that's what he wants? What if he already knows and was just waiting for her to grow a pair and say what she has to say? What good is it to know if the ability to change the situation doesn't exist?

It's a dead end path. Beautiful, meaningful yet unrequited.