Open Letter to My Soulmate

Hey Lauren - I’m assuming your name is Lauren, right? No? Is it Madison? Emily?

Don’t hate me! I’m trying to guess your name because I haven’t met you yet. But regardless of what your name actually is (I’m sure it’s lovely), I’m writing this letter for one of two reasons: Either you really exist, and I’m sorry for ever doubting you did - or you don’t exist, and I’m using this article as a cringey, painful (and very petty) way to guilt my friends; all of whom promised me that I would find you, the fucking liars.

I’m writing this at the end of 2021, at 34 years old, in what was my 19th straight year of being single. Yup! Been single for nearly 2 decades! Or more than 2 decades, depending on when we got together. Sad but true.

Before you came along, my first and only “relationship” came when I was 15, lasted five weeks, and I experienced varying levels of singledom ever since.

I’ve done the casual-hookup-but-no-official-title-or-exclusivity type of single, the fell-hard-for-someone-who-didn’t-feel-the-same-way type of single, and more recently, the not-even-talking-to-anyone-because-everybody-sucks type of single.

I need you to understand that 19+ years of mostly disappointing romantic experiences hardens a person. It fucks with their self-esteem. Makes them question their worth. I was a broken man when I met you - cynical, bitter, and hopeless. Hence why I refused to believe you even existed, or that if you did, that you’d want me. Truth be told, I’m still in the process of healing. I don’t say this to put pressure on you, like you’re being tasked with undoing decades worth of suffering - I say this so you realize how dark my world was before you came into it. 

While I can’t imagine your love life’s been as rough as mine, I can assume that you, too, have lived a life, and as such, have experienced heartbreak and disappointment in your day. I promise you, I won’t break your heart. I won’t disappoint you. I’m in this relationship because you’re all I’ve ever wanted, and I’m not gonna do anything to fuck that up and risk losing you.

So, with all that said - let’s start making some predictions, shall we? Let’s see how accurate I was.

I’m curious how we met. It couldn’t have been through online dating, because online dating fucking sucks. I’m pretty introverted, as you know, so I don’t think we met at some social gathering - though, I can’t totally rule it out. Maybe we met through the movie club I made on Meetup? It’s possible. But, I’m gonna say odds are, we met through social media. Instagram or Twitter, more specifically. Maybe something I posted caught your attention, you followed me, I followed back, we realized we had a lot in common, and the rest is history.

I don’t want to assume anything too specific about your appearance, but I will say my favorite physical attribute of yours is your face. Followed very closely by your ass. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you have a killer fucking ass. I don’t care what the size or shape of it is. I’m definitely super into it, and I’ve probably told you that quite a few times already. But seriously though, that face. My god. Oh my god, Stephanie…er, Catherine???

That’s as much as I’m assuming when it comes to physical traits. I don’t wanna talk about your beautiful blonde hair, because if you’re a redhead, you’re probably gonna get upset and maybe even feel insecure, like you don’t have everything I want, and so, fuck that. Why start unnecessary drama?

I will however, assume things about your personality, because there’s no way I agreed to a relationship with you without these traits.

First off, thank you for being childfree. Seriously. I knew that me never wanting kids would probably be the biggest obstacle to finding you, since so many women in our age group have or want them. But here you are, all childfree and shit. I love you for that. Here’s to a life of sexy vacations, money in savings, and minimal responsibilities. Go us.

Second - you’re a fellow progressive. Awesome. As you know, our politics speak to who we are, and what our values are, and there’s no way you’re not passionate about climate change, civil rights, and fighting for equality at large. You’re pro-science, pro-choice, anti-capitalist, and you think organized religion is a net negative for the world. Ugh, I’m getting hot just thinking about you and all these sexy traits you have. If you’re reading this in front of me, can we take a kissing break? Suck my face off, please.

[Pause for kisses]

Whew. That was hot. Did I mention you’re a fucking great kisser? Well, you are. Add that to the list.

And, while we’re on the subject of getting physical, I just wanted to say, our sex is explosive, and by far the best I’ve ever had. You bring out a level of passion in me I didn’t know existed. Everything about you turns me on. Your touch, your taste, your smell - it’s sensory overload. It’s fucking magical.

Whew, anyway, where was I?

Oh! I love that you appreciate the arts. I don’t know if you’re a fellow creative, but I do love that at the very least, you enjoy films, books, and fashion as much as I do.

I also love that you’re a little nerdy, and share in my interest of all things science. From talking about the mysteries of the universe, to watching nature docs, I find your love of science adorable.

There’s so much more I can write about who you are, but I wanna take some time to discuss all the plans I have for us. 

Remember, I’m a relationship noob, so even small, relatively lame experiences are foreign to me. For example, I’ve never had a Valentine’s Day dinner (I know it’s less an actual holiday and more a shameless money grab for greeting card companies and chocolate manufacturers, but let’s celebrate it at least once, so I know what it feels like).

I wanna travel through Europe with you. I wanna stargaze on the beach with you. I wanna do things both big and small with you. Things I’ve only done alone, or with friends, I want to experience through the lens of doing them while in love with you. That means driving around at night, vibing to music. It means going to museums, and to the zoo. It means baking cupcakes and binging shows and sharing TikTok videos with each other.

I know all of this sounds overwhelming. I’m hitting you with a lot at once. I’m just so incredibly happy to be with you. I’m a rescue pup just thankful to get a second chance at life. Like I said, up until I met you, I didn’t think you actually existed. I can’t fully articulate how ridiculous it is to me that you’re a real person, and more so, that I’m with you. 

Me. With you. It’s fucking insane. I still can’t believe it. But I’m glad I held out. I’m glad I didn’t settle. I’m glad I didn’t compromise on the traits I found most important in another human being. You’re everything I wanted and more. I’m sorry I ever doubted your existence, but take it as a compliment, because I’ve never met a woman like you before. And I’ll never meet another one like you again.

My friends were right, and I was wrong. I guess I owe them an apology.

Or, maybe I don’t. 

I haven’t actually met you yet, and there’s no reason to believe I will.

Only time will tell if this was an adorable, sappy, vulnerable piece of writing that’ll strengthen our relationship, or a pathetic, embarrassing waste of time that’ll further add to my feelings of loneliness. 

Hoping it’s the former, but emotionally preparing for the latter.

Hope this letter found you well, Sophie.

Oops! I mean, Megan.

Love,

Dave