|Soul Mates or Dead Mates?
||[Jan. 21st, 2009|02:44 pm]
|||||Josh Rouse - "Directions"||]|
I was thinking the other day, about the idea of soul mates. This definitely isn't the first time, but it's the first time a certain additional thought came to mind. Many romantics like myself believe in the idea that there is one person in this world for each other person. I am one of those romantics but I still question that notion. I want to believe in it. However, my thinking expanded to a new thought on this topic. I was wondering, if there is indeed a mate for everyone, does that necessarily mean each person will meet that mate? If you think about it, the people that live their whole lives without feeling like they've found that one special person, could have just been unlucky. That soul mate of theirs could have came into their lives one day, only to have instead died suddenly the day before they were going to or were "supposed" to. We would never know this happened, if it ever did, so one could understand the fascination with the idea, and the possibilities of it. My "soul mate" could be out there still, or he could have died yesterday and I would never know. He could be out there, but in another hemisphere, to which I'll never make it, and thus will never meet him. Though, with the idea of "soul mates" and its connection to the idea of fate and things that are "meant to be," perhaps none of this applies. If we are "meant" to be with someone, maybe none of that misfortune will occur as an obstacle. But what about those people who never meet someone who compliments their being in that way? Does that mean that there really isn't someone special for everyone? "Who" or "what" decides these fates?
Wow, this is lingering too close to the topic of "God" and religion in general so I'm just gonna stuff these thoughts in the glove compartment and maybe come back to them another day, I think...
Speaking of being with people though, of course I'm going to bring up Todd again. I'm going to see him tonight, and I'm actually really excited because I haven't seen him since Monday morning. I realize that sounds really lame, considering it's only Wednesday... but for the past while I have seen him almost every day, until now. We could have hung out Monday night but there comes a point where clothes just really need to get washed, before you find yourself having to wear shorts in -16 degree weather, and your dog needs to be reminded that you still do love him. Haha. Anyway, I've really been enjoying my time with Todd, and his little posse, who all happen to work at Sheehan's or are Sheehan's regulars, at least. His best friend Mike (who also happens to be the brother of his ex-wife) is dating a bartender there, who's straight from Edinburgh, Scotland. I met her sister, too when we all went to a big party on the weekend (which was a going away party for an employee of - yes, you guessed it - Sheehan's.) This was the night that I discovered the joys and then the subsequent pains of jello shooters. I have only puked on account of alcohol about 7 times total in my lifetime, and unfortunately this night was no exception. I'm sure Todd's toilet really appreciated it. Nothing like getting the puking-yer-guts-out thing outta the way early on in the dating phase of a "relationship." Wouldn't be the first time, which should really teach me something. But the only thing I've learned in accordance with alcohol and drinking it, is that I don't learn anything... not even from the worst of mistakes made under its influence. Alcohol is like that really lame boyfriend, who you know is no good for you. He gets you into trouble and you fight every other hour, yet you keep going back to him, if not for the temporary pleasures.
I'm totally in the mood for a couch cuddling, movie watching date tonight. Mmmm.