"Love is the force that leaves you colorless"
― Ovidio, Metamorphosis

It's a strange thing, really. Soulmates. I've always wondered if lonely souls would look kinda funny, like a translucent substance that whips and whorls from a person's heart. Always reaching out for someone else. Tendrils searching for something to complete them.

When I was in a kid, I had my first love. He wasn't the cutest boy in my grade. Actually, he was one of the smaller, scrawnier kids. I stood a full head taller than him, and I wouldn't let him forget it. He hated it, always greeting that with a scowl. Then, I would push my nose up, or down, or wiggle my mouth in time with my eyes back and forth until his mouth twitched upward from the corners. 

I always thought we'd be soulmates. Maybe I grasp onto people too quickly. I always thought as long as I didn't fall for the prettiest, most sought after guy, I could find someone to love me back. Will anyone ever love me? I'm laying down in my bed, alone, at night. My past plays scene after scene for me on the wall. He was just my best friend's brother. Why can't I forget the time I stared into his eyes and he didn't look away? He never thought of me the way I thought of him. I knew that the whole time. Playing games in the pool, and I would always try to end up next to him so I could hold his hand. Why can't I forget how his hand felt in mind? Why can't he leave me? It used to hurt. 

I'm just cold now. When did I loose faith in love? Whatever. Who cares anymore? Maybe my soul is grasping, a broken, wispy substance that grapples at everything desperately. It attaches itself to everything in arms reach, but it will never stay whole. Maybe I'm not meant to be whole. Can I try to be whole by myself?

I hate romcoms. They're everything wrong with my ideas of love. They glorify the parts that I glorify. They brush under the rug the parts of love that hurt me the most. They tell you everything's going to be fine, but nothing will every actually be fine cause real life never works the way that movies work, no winning formula will make him love you and nothing you do can change that and maybe no one will love you that way. Maybe I should learn to be okay.

But I feel so empty. I hate how empty I feel without some boy to fill me. I hate it. I hate every part of this. I hate love. It never did anything but hurt me.