It has been said the idea of a soulmate is antiquated and unrealistic. A few women I’ve met in recent history have expressed the idea that there are several men with whom they could share their lives and be happy. I suppose the argument against a soulmate puts logic over superstition. At the same time, I’ve witnessed love’s ability to make us blind, to inebriate us to the point of elation, to the point where we don’t care to see the potential flaws in a relationship because the benefit far out ways the risk. I’d like to think the other person in such a relationship is what some would call the other’s soulmate. It’s not that the two could never be happy with anyone else, but rather, that the two could not envision being happy with anyone else. Further, that the two were fated to be because they chose to be. To wrap our minds around such an idea, we may need to view time as an infinite, rather than a line. If time does not move from one end of a line to the other, if there are endless possibilities, with endless outcomes, then we are simultaneously not fated to be with one individual and have always been with that one individual. If the passing of time is an illusion of the human mind, I am and will always be with her. I ache for the day I meet her and I will not settle for anyone who is not her. I know of the magic of romantic love, because I have lived it. As much as I’ve thrown away, I continue to pray for my next hit, for the opportunity to feel that invincible again. With eyes to the sky, a son of Pi, sending up a flair over a dark ocean.