The Loveless Stranger

I was lying on my bed scrolling through social media when I happened upon yet another post about a distant acquaintance who found his soulmate. I could barely take it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I mindlessly scrolled until I stumbled upon another soulmate post, yet this one leaves a pang of envy in my chest. This pair is wrapped up in each other’s arms and the girl is radiant. Her smile is familiar but something about her seems foreign to me. Her hair swirls around her in an array of iridescent colors.  Magic laces its way through the image and I feel the sting of tears welling in my eyes. I tear myself away from the image and every memory, every pain from the last few months comes flooding back.

… A month earlier … 

 They say that you will just know, but my heart is restless and my mind anxious with anticipation and doubt. A soft cloud of hope floats over my racing mind as I let myself wonder what love must feel like. I’d like to believe that what I have is love as my eyes settle upon the individual sitting across from me. I drink in the sight of her. Her smile is inviting and personal and her eyes hold hope and wisdom. Her ebony hair falls over her shoulders and casts shadows playfully across her face. I can hardly believe that I’ve been able to call this woman my girlfriend for the last two years. She is perfect.

I break my eyes away from her to study the mark on my right hand. The coal-colored mark indicates that this is where my soulmate will touch me for the first time. It’s scary, really... not knowing who your soulmate could be or when you will encounter them. At first, dating seemed pointless to me. I once asked my parents why I couldn’t just go around matching my mark with everyone until it lit up, but they told me that I was brought up better than that. 

“It’s more than just the matching of marks... it’s a moment that will forever alter your story.” My mom’s words echo in my mind as I return my gaze to my girlfriend. In our two years of dating, I haven’t touched her both out of respect and out of fear. In a few short moments, I will know if this is the beginning of my love story or if I just wasted this poor girl’s time. She knows the plan, we’ve talked about it for hours and hours. What it means to love, who our soulmates might be, what that moment must feel like.... though, search as we may, we never found her mark.

“Maybe I’m one of the Loveless...” she once told me solemnly. It was true that there existed people who lacked a mark at all and these people were destined to die alone. I hated to think she could be one of them.

 “If you are one of the Loveless, I will love you.” This promise got her to smile weakly, but we both knew better than challenge Fate like that. As my mind flips through our memories it settles on the conversation we had a few days ago that helped sculpt the present. For some people, the soulmate mark is the hair. I had realized that her ebony waves might be the solution that we had overlooked. Upon this possibility, sparked hope and we decided that on the two-year anniversary of our time dating, we would find out if Fate thought we were meant to be.

“Are you ready...?” I’m jolted out of my thoughts by her voice, a velvety whisper that sends chills down my spine. My eyes meet hers and I nod. I suddenly feel very timid as I extend my right hand towards her. She stays perfectly still after sweeping her hair to one side towards me. I comb my fingers through her hair and bring her closer to me, eager to feel her embrace and trying to take in the details of her touch. I bring her lips to mine and try to capture the moment. It’s amazing how intimately you can know someone without a physical connection and how adding that level of intimacy creates such a sensual type of vulnerability. 

After a few moments, she pulls away and her eyes immediately scan my right palm. It’s still as black as the ash after a forest fire. Her hair remains its same ebony color, but something is different. I search her face and finally see it in her eyes. The dazzling spark I’ve always loved is lost in a search of answers. She knows now that there’s a chance that she doesn’t have a soulmate. I know now that she’s not mine. I wish I could say that my heart is shattering into a million pieces right now but I don’t feel anything. I’m numb and now I realize that I still don’t know what love feels like as doubt pours into my heart. 

“The kiss was nice.” She broke the silence and attempted to cheer me up as she always does. I gave her a half-hearted smile but, in truth, I was going for something a little better than “nice”. Everything feels so up in the air right now and I wish I knew what I was supposed to do. Do I continue dating her, knowing that she’s not The One… Do I leave and never talk to her again, can we still be friends? As if reading my thoughts, she clears her throat before mustering a braver voice than I could manage,

“We can’t be together. I know that once upon a time we said this soulmate thing doesn’t matter… but it would be unfair to your soulmate and to mine, whether he’s out there or not, to do this. When I was a child, my father told me that those who challenge Fate often find tragedy. We would be missing out on the people we are meant to be with and we could unknowingly cause them to suffer. You know what the right thing to do is and so do I…. I’m so sorry, but, at least for now, I’m going to need some space to process.”  Her words hit my ears, but I know I didn’t process what this would mean for us. All I could do was nod.

… present day ...

Tears threaten to flood my eyes if I don’t do something. I have to get out, I have to escape. I’m scared and heartbroken and jealous. I feel like I’m six years old again and I hate it. I push my way out the door and take off running. I run and cry and gasp for my breath then look up to see a creaky, wooden sign above me. “The Loveless Stranger” I scan the cherry-stained wooden sign before entering the sleepy-looking bar. I take a deep breath and then sit down to scan a menu. 

“You look lost, wanna see if you’re my prince charming?” a sultry voice asks. I turn and my eyes meet a pair of lustful, piercing blue ones. The woman tossed her midnight-colored hair and smoothed her skirt before tracing a handprint on her inner thigh. She smiled and indicated for me to place my hand over her marking. My face flushed as I gingerly brushed my hand against her inner thigh with no result. She shrugged and then lightly said, 

“Well,  you’re certainly not the first and from the looks of it you’re not likely to be the last… so…” I stood in awe of how casual this woman could be about such a life-altering matter. I studied her for a second, partially in wonder, the other part in fear… The next thing I knew our lips were locked and her hands explored my body hungrily. I tried to capture the moment but between the beginning of a splitting headache and the realization that none of this encounter really mattered anyway, I surrendered against my better judgment and wrapped my arms around this stranger. 

The next morning, I splashed some water on my face and ran a comb through my hair before I headed out the door to go to work, trying to shake off the events of the night before. I don’t remember her name. I don’t remember leaving. All I remember was that at that moment I realized that this whole soulmate thing was stupid and nothing mattered. Maybe she was out there somewhere, maybe not. But until then, why should my “soulmate” dictate my actions? After that night at The Loveless Stranger, something in my heart hardened… maybe, deep down, I just wasn’t ready to get hurt. But for now, it was better to live like this.

Half-past ten and I’m sitting at my desk, scrolling through files, when I spot a woman I’ve never seen before. She pauses near enough to my desk for me to initiate an interaction if I choose to. I spot a black mark on her right hand that appears to match my own. I scramble to stand and extend my hand saying,

“Hey, you must be new here allow me to introduce myself-”

“Sorry. I don’t touch strangers” the woman’s steely eyes made me feel small as I retracted my hand. There was something about her that drew me to her and I found myself spacing out as I studied her auburn hair and impeccable posture. When I failed to say anything, she cleared her throat and crisply said,

“Well if you don’t need anything…” This time I interrupted her, boosted by the confidence I learned from the woman I met last night, I shot her my best smile and said,

“If you let me introduce myself, we won’t be strangers anymore,” I think she cracked the slightest smile attached to a dry laugh as she spun on her heel and threw a parting sentiment, 

“Perhaps one day we will be more than strangers… but today is not that day.”